Picking a New Page

Hi. How are you? I've missed you. Did you miss me? I sure missed me. I've been under a lot of stuff. Snow, mostly.

But a lot of stuff that has nothing to do with the weather. See, I know that I last posted in September, when school was new and things were staring up again. But at the same time, things were ending. And I had no idea. Turns out that even though it takes two people to be married, all it takes is 14 weeks and one person to end it. Quickly and with no warning. And when that happens, blogging goes by the wayside, because really, you  are just trying to figure out what happened and how to put one foot in front of the other.
And how to get up in the morning.
And take the dog for a walk.
And go to work.
And just breathe. Because you forget to do that.

You forget a lot of things. When your whole world flips upside down and every plan and every thing that you thought you knew to be true turns out to be false and you realize that nothing will ever, ever be the same, you have two choices. Go under the covers or try to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. So, I thought about it. I thought that I could just curl into a ball and sort of disappear and dissolve and fade away. But I realized that, in fact, I was not made that way. So I had to force myself to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. And I had to get up. And I had to move forward. And I had to re-asses the situation and the life I was in and go through my grief. But nothing said I had to do it alone. So, I quit my job. I apologized to my kids and my heart broke again when I told them I had to leave.
In December I moved myself, my dog and a truck full of my stuff back to NY where my family was waiting. (I did not actually drive the truck. I left that to my father who, on the way back, missed New Jersey. To be fair, he drove it the whole way and we both had colds.)

And then I did nothing. For three months.Well, not nothing. I got tan.

I went to Hawaii.

I went to Barbados.

I drank lots of things with umbrellas and read really bad books on beaches and cried.

And I thought about who I was and who I wanted to be. I thought about all of the things that I had not wanted that had been thrown in my path and to which I said "oh, well. Ok, I can work around this" I thought about all the stuff I had settled for and finally I realized something. I get a do-over! I get to do it all over. I can move to London or teach in India or get my real estate license because apparently no one is getting a teaching job in NY.

I can dress up my dog any way I want. (well, let's face it. I was going to do that anyway)

I can make totally different choices. Kind of like a "Choose your Own Adventure" book. Remember those? You got to a point in the story and if you picked choice A you went to page 45. If you picked choice B, you went to page 96. I did page 45. I'm going back to the beginning and picking page 96.

People keep asking "What are you going to do?" and the truth is, I don't know. I'm in mourning for the person I was and the marriage that was and the vacations and houses and children and all the possibilities that I imagined but will never be. I don't know.

I do know that I am surrounded by friends and family who have offered me unconditional support and love. I am lucky enough to be able to live in a place that asks very little of me and where I don't have to pay my utilities and I get cable. So I ask those of you with whom I have been incommunicado to please forgive as I am only now beginning to communicate. I'm struggling to find out what my new adventure will be and waiting to turn the page.

Lice is NOT nice

'Tis the season for....lice. Actually, lice season is August - May, so maybe we should be rejoicing on the days when it isn't lice season. This year, we lost our full-time school nurse. She was supremely fab, and knew all the kids and all the fakers. And she would check my head when I was totally creeped out. But because we do not have a high risk student at our school (i.e. a diabetic, student with a physical disabilty, etc) she was re-located and now we, a school of 800 plus children, gets a nurse either Monday, Wednesday, Friday or Tuesday and Thursday, depending on the week. Awesome. Meanwhile.....one of the totally fab teachers at my school was notified that a kid in her class had lice. So she told the nurse, who was there that day. She was fully expecting the nurse to say "OK, bring your kids in for a head check". Instead, she was told that doing a head check was "Not a priority" and that she "might get to it in the next two or two and half hours, if at all". WHAT? SERIOUSLY? WE ARE TALKING PESTILENCE, PEOPLE! But, I guess that is the new policy. Love them budget cuts. I just kept thinking to myself "This cannot be good."
       Fast forward to today. I saw a class on the sidewalk. There were about 9 kids in the class. I said to the teacher "Where is the rest of your class?" She told me that four were testing, but that five (FIVE) had just been sent home because of lice. Mr. L will now be checking my head. Every. Single. Night. ew.

The New Kids

I have begun this year afraid that I would have no "personalities" in my class. I am used to big personalities. Those not sure of what I mean need only to look back at the past year. But a new year, new kids. This year has been relatively quiet. So far. I was content to ride it out in peace. Today, there is a glimmer of hope. Bug Boy from last year came to visit me today. I pulled him next to me and said "See? He's in fifth grade! People do survive this class"

Without missing a beat, I hear
"Is he the only one?"

Things are looking up.

Dirty Harry aka Bad Boy

Yes, I know, it's been a long time. Such is life when one reaches this time of year, but I have been saving things up and so plan on some more regular postings. At this time of year, when there are only 11 days left of school, everyone goes a little nuts. The kids, the teachers, even the administration. Last week, they were suspending kids left and right, although when you have 2 fourth-graders who pee in the garbage can, you really have no choice, right? In my own little kingdom, the jesters have taken over and I am in danger of being de-throned.

Last week, Drama Boy comes up and tells me that he is off his medication and probably will be for the rest of the year. Trying to keep the panic from my voice, I replied "WHAT?!?!" He nodded and grinned at me. Now let me state right now that I am not normally in favor of medicating kids. I think we do it waaayyyyy to often with kids, especially boys. But in this case, the medication keeps DB from crawling around under the tables and cutting and eating his own hair (which he did the last time he was off his meds.) So when he announced this stunning development, I can only hope that my eyes remained in place and did not bug out of my head. Turns out he is a little underweight (the meds really kill his appetite) and so the Dr. wants him off them so he can gain a few pounds. Perfectly reasonable, but the man could not have waited two weeks? REALLY?!?!?!?!

By the second day of DB medication-free, the choices were down to either he goes or I do. I would have preferred to leave, but it's frowned upon to leave 23 9-year-olds un-supervised, so I told Bad Boy (who has been remarkably awesome lately) to take him to Mrs. K's room. Get him a clipboard with his work and go. Now. BB, DB and a partner were gone almost 25 minutes. When they came back, we had this conversation:

Mrs. L: Where have you guys been!?
BB: (sighs, shakes his head and looks at me) Well, Mrs. L., about halfway there, DB decided he did not want to go anymore. So I had to pick him up and carry him. And you know how he's little and really skinny? Let me tell you, he gets heavy after a while.
Mrs. L: You carried him?!  How? (keeping in mind that BB is one of the smallest kids in the class as well)
BB: Yeah! Like this (indicates a fireman's carry) What else was I supposed to do?
Mrs. L: (really slowly) Ummm....what happened then?
BB: I had to throw him into Mrs. C's room!
Mrs. L: Oh. OK...... Wait! I told you to take him to Mrs. K's room!
BB: I know, but she's too nice, and he needed to learn a lesson.
Mrs. L: (looking stunned) Umm yeah, ...great, thanks, ok.

So apparently, I need not make any decisions anymore...justice can be meted out by a 9 year old.

FOLLOW UP -
After a conversation with Mrs. C at which she expressed surprise at having DB in her room and confirming that yes, indeed, he had been carried and then tossed into the room like a sack of Idaho spuds, she asked BB why he put DB in her room. The reply?

BB: Mrs. K is too nice, and I knew you were already in a bad mood, so I thought it was better this way.
Mrs. C: Oh.

11 days, friends. 11 days.

A Stream, A River, A Lake

OK! I know it has been, like, a month since I wrote anything, but friends, let me tell you....state testing time is no joke! We have successfully weathered the storm and I am thrilled to be able to tell you that Spring Break is right around the corner. WHOO-HOO!!! Because after that, folks, we have nine weeks left.
 My kids all took the state tests, and now, I can finally begin all of the fun stuff that happens in fourth grade. I kept promising them it was coming, and now it is here!!!!!!
However, allow me to tell you all that has transpired in the last month.

Friends, I promise to hit the highlights, but first of all I want to know what $&#*$(%)$ bureaucrat decided that during testing, it would be OK to have thousands of nine-year-olds sit still for a minimum of 70 minutes. Seriously. They take the test and then they have to sit there. Theoretically it gives them time to check their work several times, go back over things, etc. But I don't know ADULTS who can sit silent and still, staring into space, for at least 70 minutes. Do you? SOOOOOO frustrating. Most of the kids actually end up falling asleep. I really loved the testing day of two back to back 70 minutes testing sessions. In which they get a stretch break. for two minutes. Utterly, totally ridiculous.  Which is why, after testing, I let my kids play games until lunch. About 40 minutes.  Sorry, Connect 4, Battleship, real, actual games. They love it and they don't feel so burned out. With that said, there are many things that happen during the time between the end of the test and lunchtime.Some of the high points?

*Bad Boy yelling out in the middle of a game of Uno "Who busted a gump?" Now, if you know what that means, you are way ahead of me and I am really impressed. Apparently, it means passing gas. This statement from Bad Boy managed to get three boys into a shouting match about who, in fact, "busted".

*The nose-to-nose shouting match between two girls who either love each other to death or are at war. When I told them they were done and they were not to be near each other again, one of the told me "But I really want to work on this friendship" With what, dueling pistols?

*The Tornado Watch in the middle of the test which stopped our testing, forced us to stay in our classrooms all day (no bathroom breaks, because we would have to go outside and we were not allowed to do that) and prevented my kids from getting lunch until 1:00, 2 HOURS AFTER we normally eat. The kids had to eat in the room, and my room smelled like cafeteria beef for the next 24 hours. EWWWWW. Thankfully, I had bought Cheez-its for a snack and had leftovers in the classroom,  and a generous art teacher bought my kids snacks for after the tests and we had those. Thanks Mrs. Stone!!!!

* And finally, the piece de resistance, the ultimate, the show-stopper event -THE ACCIDENT, involving, of course, Drama Boy. Now, DB dis not test with me. He got to test with another teacher, where he spent 40 of his 70 minutes of the reading test asking her about the bar code on the front of the test. She is a saint. Now the rules of testing state that during testing, students cannot go out to the bathrooms by themselves, so we have to go as a class. I am NOT dragging my class out every 7 minutes so one person can go to the bathroom. At 10:00, DB said to me "Mrs. Lewis, I have to go to the bathroom" I said "I am sorry, DB, you will have to wait until we all go together in about 15 minutes. " He went back to happily playing games. At 10:15, we all went out and went to the bathroom. At 11:00 we went to lunch, and we went to the bathroom. At 11:40 we came back from lunch and went to the bathroom. At 12:08 we lined up to go to PE. I walked to the back of the room and saw what looked like a lake under the back table. I opened my mouth and said "Did somebody spill......." when a voice at my elbow furiously whispered "Please don't tell, please don't tell!!!!!" I looked, and it was DB, with his enormous sweatshirt wrapped around his waist. I realized that the lake had been created by him!!!!! Yes, he had managed to have an accident at the table right before we lined up. To say I was stunned is an understatement. 10 years old. Really? I told everyone to go to PE and DB and I followed quickly behind. As soon as we dropped off the class, I was going to take him to the clinic for fresh clothes. Apparently, my class does not move as fast as he would like because he kept saying to me "Hurry up! It's dripping!!!!!" I hustled everyone to PE and kept him moving smoothly towards the clinic. As we walked, I said "If it was such an emergency, why didn't you tell me?" His response? "I DID!!!!" I looked at him and said "At 10:00 this morning!!!!! It's 12:15! Are you telling me you held it for two hours even though we have been to the bathroom three times since then???!!!" His response "I told you and you said I had to wait. So I did."

I am so glad this week is over.

I write, therefore.......my hand cramps

I know.....it's been forever. But there has been a lot going on. On February 9th, the fourth grade took the FCAT writes. Now, for those of you not in education, let me explain a little about the FCAT. Thanks to the stupid No Child Left Behind act, states have to prove their competencies through a series of tests.In Florida it's the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test, or F-CAT. If you really want to know how I feel, go here.

Anyway, in fourth grade, we have to prove how well we write. So from August to now, we spend an hour a day doing writing prompt after writing prompt. Learning about 5 paragraphs, creative language, expository and narrative. The whole thing is so phony and canned. But, of course, we are not teaching to the test! I want to tell everyone that kids DO NOT learn to write this way!!!! I want to tell them that it is totally counter-productive!!!! But I can't, because the truth is, it's my ass on the line. And guess what? If my scores suck, I get blamed for it. So we practice, practice, practice. I try to make it fun and creative, but by the end of January, we are all sick of writing. Really sick of it. I had 3 kids who just refused to write anymore. And I kind of don't blame them. So we sat down and had a conversation. All of us. And I told them that we were finished with writing. We were tired of it, and really, we had practiced as much as we could. They knew what to do, we had gone over it a million times and they could do it. So the deal was, no more writing. But on the day of the test, we all had to give our best effort and write, write, write.

"Yes, Mrs. Lewis!" my friends all chorused together.

Liars.

On the day of the test I had one kid who wrote one line. and then erased it. And then wrote half a line. Total. In 45 minutes.

Another had 4 lines and one more had one paragraph. And that was it.

When I glared at the one-paragraph kid (because I cannot say anything during the test. I am not even allowed to know what the prompt is) He looked at me all indignantly and said "What? I'm done!"

4-liner just put his head down and went to sleep, and when I asked 1/2 line kid what happened, he just shook his head and said "I don't know".

Now part of me feels really bad that these kids hate it so much, but part of me want to scream "YOU KNOW THIS!!!! I HAVE SEEN YOU DO THIS!!!!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????????" But I didn't.

The biggest surprise? Bad Boy! That child put his nose to the grindstone and I saw him plan, write, edit, re-read and edit again! He worked the entire time!!!!!! At one point, about halfway through, he put his paper down, heaved a huge, resigned sigh and got back to work. I was so thrilled! I told him how proud I was of how hard he worked and he looked at me and said:

"What do you mean? I just did what you told me to do."

I almost collapsed.

Oh the Drama!!!!!

My class has a penchant for the dramatic. (and, truthfully, so do I, so I may be partly to blame. oh well) Nothing is ever stated, nothing is ever just said. Instead, we have to yell, exclaim, shout, demand, announce, proclaim and broadcast each and every item. I am glad they are so enthusiastic, but I am certain that if this level of hysteria over everything continues, at some point I will probably have to bring in fainting couches for the Sarah Bernhardts of the class. Maybe I can get a bulk discount. Today's drama, which was relatively minor, went something like this:

"Mrs. Lewis? I have red spots all over my arms! And they're getting bigger!" (Which she did and they were)

"Mrs. Lewis? I just fell (at recess) and cracked my head on a rock and now I'm bleeding."

(Two girls nose to nose, both yelling and crying)
"I did not punch you! You are a liar!
"I am not a liar, you are horrible and mean and I hate you!"
"I'm telling! You are the liar!"


and no post would be complete without a moment brought to you by Drama Boy, who yesterday looked at me and said "You are WRONG!" Today was a better day.

Drama Boy: "Hey Mrs. Lewis! Did you know that I went to Animal Kingdom with my mom and we went on the Yeti ride and it looks nothing like it does on tv and its way scarier than I thought it would be and did you know that Yeti's are real it's true I saw one but on the ride they are much bigger and I thought that it was going to get me but then I realized I was on the ride and it can't get me but I want to know where they live and do you know because I need to find out and I need to go to the media center to look it up.'K?"

And then we had to get under our desks because there was a tornado drill. And another class was with us. Yeah, Wednesday. Sigh.

Chaos Part Deux

I believe I left you all at Wednesday of last week. Go HERE if you would like a re-cap.Then came Thursday. At that point, we were back in our room, but if you re-call, had done absolutely nothing the day before. So we had two days worth of work to get done. We are motoring along, getting our work done. At 9:10, I realize that I had never sent our attendance cards up to the office. I grabbed the bag and sent Drama Boy and Lip Gloss (who happened to be my two messengers) to the office. They were gone an awfully long time. When they come back, Drama Boy has got a bowl of cereal and chocolate milk in his hand. Our rule at school is that if a child does not have time for breakfast at home, they can have it at school. We also allow children who do not have time to eat in the cafeteria to grab a bag that has 2 slices of toast and milk to bring that and eat it in the room. Toast. Which, you know, does not spill. At 8:00. It was now 9:30. The conversation that follows:

Me: Drama Boy, what are you doing with cereal?

DB: I got it from the cafeteria. I was hungry. 

Me: And they gave it to you?(I find out later that there was a misunderstanding, because, at the time, I was livid that they had given it to him.)

DB: Yes

Me: Well, I'm sorry but it is past breakfast time. We are doing writing and if you were hungry for breakfast, you should have gotten it an hour and a half ago when you came to school. ( I know, you think I am awful for denying a kid breakfast when he is hungry but you know what? He could have gotten it at 8:00. Also, Drama Boy tends to think that rules do not apply to him, and he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants. Plus, if he was eating the cereal, no writing would get done. At all.)

DB: WHAT?

Me: You need to go put the cereal on the back table. We are writing.

DB WHAT?!

Me: Now.

DB: (Stands as straight as he can drawing himself up to his full 4' 1",  extends his arm and points a finger directly at me.) FINE! FINE! BUT IF I STARVE TO DEATH IT WILL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!! (He then throws himself at his desk and weeps copiously. I ignored him.)
He proceeds to build a tower of books over and above his head while still crying. I thought my class was going to lose it because half of them were red in the face from trying not to laugh out loud. The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Then came Friday afternoon.

In the grand scheme of things, Bad Boy was having a pretty good week. Then his mom came to pick him up Friday afternoon. I love his mother. She is awesome. She is totally supportive and really involved. I find out that Bad Boy, who has not been turning in his homework, has been lying to her about having it done already. He has also been lying about his writing and when I dig through his backpack, I find a ton of "correct and return" papers that he never returned. His mother was at a loss, I was at a loss, and so I laid into him. Really, really hard. I have tried to be kind, I have tried to be strict, but he is just being lazy. And I let him know it. I have never laid into a kid that hard before, and I would not have, except for the fact that him mom was a) standing there and b)on the same page as me. I started to feel really bad when he began to cry, but I was determined not to let up. I finally ran out of steam and let his mother take over. The poor kid! But I hope this will get through to him. I feel like if he does not begin to learn about consequences now, he can easily get lost in the shuffle of middle school. So that was the week. I am thankful for a three-day weekend for me, but because we have report cards due, the kids get a four-day weekend. So I won't see them until Wednesday. And when I do, I will give Bad Boy a big hug and we will sit down and talk.

Chaos Theory In Practice

Kids need routine. Kids like predictability, and when you mess with that, you better be prepared. Change one element, and it can throw off the whole delicate operation that is the elementary school day. As predicted, this week has, indeed, been one hot mess. Monday, we moved out of our classroom. 24 children lugging backpacks, textbooks, coats, sweaters and recess equipment while their teacher pushed a large grocery cart with books, cd player, computer, paper, pencils and other items. We looked like some sort of deranged parade. Along the way, I lost several of my kids. I'm not sure where they went, but they showed up 20 minutes later.
We settled comfortably into our temporary digs and dismissed from that room. Fine. The next day, we hummed along as best we could. Until the afternoon. When Bad Boy comes back to the room from going to the bathroom and delivering a message to another teacher for me. (20 minutes later)

BB: Mrs. Lewis? I have paint all over my hands.

Mrs. L: Why?

BB: Because I stopped by our room and touched all the wet paint.

OF COURSE HE DID!!!!!!!! But I have to give him props for admitting it. So when the kids were dismissed, I took him down to our room and made him apologize to the painters who now had to re-paint all of our shelves because someone's little fingerprints were all over them. And he did. And so I sent him away. That was Tuesday.

We were told we could move back into our room Wednesday morning. However, the painters finished our room Tuesday night and told that art teacher she could move into our temporary room right away because her room was next in line. Move into where we were. Which we had no idea about. Wednesday morning, I walk in and find her there. Getting ready for her first class. In 20 minutes. Of course, we had PE on Wednesday, and as you know from HERE, on cold days, PE has to be inside. And it was 35 degrees out. So the art teacher, who is, no doubt, a Super-Super Colleague rearranged herself to accommodate us. Because there was no way, even though the paint was dry, that we could have had PE in our room. And this is why:

The kids desks are somewhere under there. No idea where. While the kids were doing PE, I hastily packed up all our stuff, again, and tried dragging it by myself back to our room so the art teacher could get into the temporary room right after PE. It was not pretty. Things spilled. I crashed the cart twice and cracked my shin against it at least three times.

At exactly 9:05 I dragged my kids out of the room with all their stuff. Three went missing again. I found out later they had an unfortunate meeting with the assistant principal. They came back, unscathed, although I later heard that one of my girls told someone to "Kiss my butt", which brought about the meeting with the VP.  We are all assembled back in our room, and it occurs to me that there is no way we can do anything until we put some order back into the room. So we try, but the kids are totally wound up, and I am seriously losing it. As I am about to blow a gasket, along comes an angel. A wonder. A woman whose debt I will forever be in. The fourth grade teacher on my row pops her head into my room and sees the chaos that is the day. She offers to take my kids, and, not only keep them in her room, but do a writing lesson with them!!!!!!!! While her kids are in there too!!!!!!!  I mean, seriously, does it get any more super than that?!?!?! NO!!!! WOW!!!!! So She takes them. For 2 hours. And I take two trustworthy kids of mine and we put the room back in order. She also takes them for half an hour after lunch. I love this woman. I worship at the altar of her awesome-ness. I, of course, will do the same thing for her when she has to put her room back together, but I am still feeling the glow of her kindness.

And that was Wednesday.

The drama of Thursday is coming up, but re-living the first part of the week has exhausted me all over again, and now I must take a nap.

I AM BAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!

Yes, Friends, it is I. Your wonderful blogger, back from vacation/holidays (holi-daze, really), last week of school/first week back, etc. Needless to say, it was hectic, exhausting, but ultimately great. And so I resume. But be prepared, because the following is a lot.

First things first:
Holiday vacation. To have two weeks off is great. It is restorative, it is restful, and it allows me to re-charge. Truly. The truth is, if I did not have these two weeks off, someone would die. The kids were cranky, I was cranky, and no one was getting along. On my vacation, Mr. L and I went home and spent the time visiting our friends and families, seeing plays and movies, and generally catching up with all and sundry in NY. For the very first time, Mr. L and I were home for the entire vacation, together. Usually, he leaves a day or two after Christmas and I do not return until New Years. This time, we had 11 days to do all the stuff we never seem to have time to do. It was great.

Then, it was time to go back to school. And deal with the hot mess that was the first week.
Now the last time I was in my classroom was the day we let out for vacation. Which means I was just as eager as the kids to get out of there. Needless to say, my room was a mess. "No problem" I thought, "I will organize and clean before the kids come in". Wrong. When I got into my car on January fourth, I was horrified to discover that it was 32 degrees outside. 32. In Florida. Now that may seem like a small inconvenience to some, but for me it is huge, because the rule at school is if it is below 40 degrees, the kids have to come into the classrooms. Now when I was a kid, we always walked from the bus into the room and waited for our teacher. No such luck anymore. Kids are not allowed to be in classrooms without adult supervision, ever! As such, the kids all line up on two central courts in the morning where they are supervised by teachers until the first bell rings. I then usually truck out there to get them. Except when it is cold. Then, the kids have to come inside the minute they get there. In other words, I cannot get anything in my room done, because all of a sudden, my kids are in my room a half-hour before normal. Plus, if it's a PE day, that means that PE is in the rooms. During my planning time. So again, nothing gets done. It has been cold all week. I am already behind.
And then, on Thursday, the painters come in and tell me that our room is going to be painted on Monday. And we have to pack up the room like it's the last day of school.
And move to a portable. (read: trailer)
On the other side of campus.
And we don't know when they will be done.
So instead of reading our new story, learning our spelling words and trying to finish "The Tale of Despereaux" we will be packing up our room. Fun.


P.S. - Stay tuned. Stories of Drama Boy and Bad Boy to follow in the next few days. I just have to figure out how they end.

For once, I applaud politics.

I had never heard of Diane Savino before today. Now, I wish I lived on Staten Island just so I could vote for her. She says everything I wanted to say but was unsure how to say it. A concise, complete, clear argument. Unconvinced? Watch until 3:10. There is something for everyone. Think it's a religious issue? She shoots that down and even allows that people who base their views on religion can still discriminate. So don't worry, you can still hate.
And for all those people who think that a relationship is not "valid" because the participants are not a man and a woman, watch the whole thing. Can you really say her arguments don't hold? They do. She's right.
GO DIANE!!!

I see London, I see France.......

It was a traumatic day today for many reasons. As we head into the 2 1/2 weeks before vacation, everyone is wound up, emotional and out of their minds. I try to keep things as normal as possible and in a regular routine. Then, I have conversations like this one that literally had me sitting down, laughing so hard I was crying.
Just before lunch, M comes up to me:

M:   Mrs. Lewis? I have a hole in my pants.
Mrs.Lewis.:   Let me see.
M: (holding his shirt down over the back of his pants)No.
Mrs.L.:   You need to let me see it so I can see if I have pins.
M:   No.
Mrs.L.:   OK, when we go to lunch, you can go to the nurse and see if she has extra pants or pins for the hole.
(We go up to lunch and I take him to the nurse's office)
Nurse:  M , Let me see the hole
M:   No.
Nurse:  Well, how big is the hole?
(M indicates a hole about 2 - 2 1/2 inches across)
I don't think I have anything that will help that, but let me see it.
M: No.

(Mrs. Lewis, looks at M's panic-stricken face and with a realization breaking over her, leans down)

Mrs.L.:   M, are you wearing underwear?
M: No.
Mrs. L.:  NO? WHAT DO YOU MEAN "NO"?
M: I forgot.
Mrs. L:   Forgot?
M: Yeah. I got dressed really fast this morning and I guess I just forgot.
Nurse: You FORGOT? You CANNOT come to school commando! You MUST HAVE UNDERWEAR!

It was at this point, seeing the simultaneous looks of horror on the nurse's face and on M's face that I collapsed into the chair, laughing and gasping. Luckily, so did everyone else. So we got a rope, pulled up his pants and secured them, and he kept his shirt pulled down the rest of the day.
12 more days.

This is the real America

I KNOW! It's been forever, but I have an excuse. And a reason for this post. My MIL was visiting this week, and so we were busy, busy, busy! My MIL is a retired second grade teacher, so she totally gets what I am talking about when I get on my soapbox. (Which I am about to do again.) It's so nice to be understood! One conversation, however, was really enlightening. I teach in a school that gets around 66% free lunch. For the uninitiated of you, that means that I teach in an area of high poverty. There are many middle-class families at our school, but there is also a very high rate of the "working poor". What is working poor? It's this.

• Many kids in my school do without. Even though the parents work. And I do not mean do without Wii's, or trips to Disney. I mean many of my kids do without food and clothes.
  
• There are kids in my school who go to bed hungry at night. Fortunately, they get breakfast and lunch at school. Still, they do not get three meals a day. 
• There are kids that come to school in clothes that are either too small, dirty or both. 
• There are children that come to school who have not bathed in a week. 
• There are kids who do not get the medication they need or are dosed with only half because the families are trying to make the prescription last as long as possible until they can afford to get a new one. (even paying the $10 co-pay is a streach). 

My MIL was shocked and outraged (as everyone should be!) about this and really, really upset. "But this is America!" She said " I do not understand how people can let a child go hungry at night!". Mr. Lewis replied "Yes. This is America and this is what most of America looks like" Now my MIL was really lucky to teach in a fairly affluent area, so the things that I see did not necessarily show up in her school. But her district and her population are not the norm. My school represents a majority of America. And it is a distressing sight.

I have been reading a lot of Facebook posts lately and as we approach the holiday season, many people have been updating their status to say "I am thankful for...." I wonder how many people who write these things realize how fortunate they are and if they really mean it. Do you realize that you are lucky to have a roof over your head? Lucky to be able to get care when you need it? Even mundane things like pick up milk on the way home? If you can do all of that, you are fortunate indeed.

I would like to ask everyone reading to think about something: For the next two months, when you pass by a Toys for Tots location, a local food drive, a way to give to families and children in need, do it. Please. The $5 you spend on a latte or a fast food meal can be donated very easily. Then, when the holiday season in over, find a way to give again. And again. The holidays are only 6 weeks long, but the needs of these families last all year.
A little girl in my class is being thrown out of her mobile home in 2 days. I don't know if I will see her next week, because she does not know where she will be living. She is nine, and she does not know where she will be sleeping come Monday.




p.s. - For anyone, I recommend the book "Nickel and Dimed" by Barbara Erenreich. It's about the working poor in America who are trying to survive on minimum wage and it is a fascinating eye-opener.

Report Cards

Report cards came out on Friday. It's a rough time for kids, parents and teachers. I also want to know who decided to give out report cards the day before Halloween? That just seems mean. We have all the regular spaces in the report card for the letter grades, but then there is the section for marking things like "Uses time well", "Comes prepared for class" etc. If nothing is marked, an "S" for "Satisfactory" appears. If the teacher does mark that section, an "N" appears for "Not Satisfactory". Bad boy was looking at his report card and talking to himself. I heard him say "All right! Mostly S's! Oh, an "N" for following directions" He saw me looking at him. "I know I got an N for not following directions. You don't have to tell me twice!" I leaned very close to him and said "Yes, Bad Boy, I do have to tell you at least twice. Which is why you got the N"
He at least had the grace to look down and hide his face as he smiled.

Dirty minds....again.

So all is now well in the Land of Lewis. The kids have all come back, but, of course, I am now sick and fuzzy-headed, which makes my reaction times slower. Which, as you will see, is a bad, bad thing. And they keep saying things like "How'd you get that cold?" I simply stare and let them gaze on my red-eyes, runny-nosed self. In keeping with the theme this year, my little ones continue to have their minds in the gutter.  This week, we are studying the /or/ and /ar/ spelling patterns. You know, like door, floor, argue, spark....those sounds. I had my small group of spellers-in-need with me at the back table. And guess who was with me? That's right. Bad Boy. We were breaking up and "graphing" our spelling patterns (where you space out the word according to the sounds). They were having a really hard time deciding how to break up the word "shoe". Is is a long "o" or a short "o" or something else all together? So I whipped out the white board and wrote down the following words:

Cool
Moo
Hoot

and I asked if "shoe", even though it is spelled differently, sounded like any of these. Stupid, stupid me. I walked right into this one. The conversation that then happens (and it took place in, like, a second and a half!) right in front of me between Lip Gloss and Bad Boy:

L.G: That's not right
Mrs. Lewis: What's not right?
L.G.: Hoot
M.L.: What do you mean?
L.G.: It's supposed to be "Hooters", not hoot!
Bad Boy: She means "hoot" like the owl! Hooters is the restaurant, the place with the boobs! Hey! That has a long "o" sound too!
L.G.: What does?
B.B.: Boobs!

at which point the whole table lost it. And I had to pretend to drop my pen so I could duck under the table before they could see me laughing. They are definitely feeling better.

Save Yourselves!!!! Cough into your elbow.

My kids are dropping like flies and I am considering wearing a personal SCUBA suit with my own air supply to school. Yesterday, 5 kids were out and as the day wore on, I steadily lost more. The first one came to me about 9 am. "Mrs. Lewis? I really don't feel well" Normally, you look at a kid and say "Well, what does that mean? What doesn't feel well?" But you could totally see that this kid was truly ill. Glassy eyes, flushed, kind of teetering as he stood. So I sent him to the clinic where he was promptly packed up and sent home with a fever of 100.
30 minutes later?
"Mrs. Lewis?" That one threw up.
15 minutes after that? The next victim. Fever of 101.1
Then came, in this order, fever, fever, vomit.

By lunch time, the body count was at 5.
One girl managed to sneeze (and not once, like 5 million times)  through almost the entire day. I asked her if she had a cold but she swore it was just allergies. Watching her wilt after lunch, it was clear that she had also been struck down.  After making her way through an entire box of tissues, I sent her packing. Fever. 100.

Looking at the survivors, I declared it was "decontamination" time. Like "Hammer Time", but not as much fun.
Last year, my kids were always sick, so this year I bought the economy size jar of cold and flu antiseptic wipes in August. I thought I  was being super smart and that I would not need them until January. Wrong. Each kid got a wipe (or six) and we proceeded to clean desks, chairs, scissors, markers, door handles, table tops and anything and everything they touch. Now I am not a fan of the anti-bacterial stuff. I think regular soap and water is fine, and, in fact, I think you need a few buggers crawling around to keep you healthy. I don't like it and never, ever use it. But this is war! We have already been washing our hands like we were in some sort of OCD Olympic event, but now? Now we sing as we wash. 2 rounds of "Happy Birthday" as we scrub, rub and beat those germs into submission. We have watched a hand-washing video (yes, there is one from the CDC that we are actually required to watch) we have left all our windows open, even though this creates a tornado-like effect in our room and everything has to be weighed down. (Including some of the smaller children) While we are doing everything humanly possible to keep ourselves healthy, I realize that I may be waging a losing battle and that I may have been defeated already by a fourth grade ritual.  There was a sleepover Friday night. The majority of those there have already succumbed. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I fear that by Thursday we will look like passengers on a Japanese commuter train. You know the ones that wear the white surgical masks?

I must believe, however, that I WILL BE VICTORIOUS! My remaining kids will stay healthy and hopefully some of the fallen will return this week. On the brighter side? We have been coloring and watching movies for 2 days. Can't get much done when half the class is gone. Now excuse me, I have to go find the 612oz  bottle of hand sanitizer I bought from BJ's.

I Heart NY

So we have lived here in FL (Or the FLA, pronounced "flah" if you are in my family) for 4 years and we are almost at the beginning of our 5th year here. I never thought we would be down here this long, and I am mostly OK with it, but there are a few things I really, really, really miss. And a few I don't.

I Miss:

-My friends and family - being able to drive anywhere and see them within 5 hours.
-Fall - specifically the trees- (Although Jill tried to remedy this by sending me a huge picture of a Maple turning in N.H. - thanks, Jill!)
-The first snowfall
-Cold weather at Christmas
-Bloomingdales
-restaurants that are not chains
-Pumpkin picking
-Apple picking
-Corn mazes (Yes, they have them here, but doing one in 90 degrees seems a little off-putting)
-New York City
-Real Christmas trees
-Stew
-Cool summer nights
-sweaters
-Being near a major airport (an hour and a half is not near)


I Don't Miss:

-Scraping off the car
-The temperature in January at 7 am
-Having to bundle up before going outside. It's amazing the freedom when you don't have to think about it!
-November in the north. It's just gray.

I Like:
-Access to the beach at all times of the year
-The weather in January and especially in February

I Don't Like
-The Bugs. A well-established fact. The really, really, really big and plentiful bugs. And snakes. And rats. Oh! And sharks!

 I'm not sure how much longer we will be here, but I have gotten pretty used to it. Anyone who knows me will tell you I do not do well with change. I came down here literally kicking and screaming for a time, convinced that it was the most horrible fate ever. But I have established friends and colleagues who make it bearable and more fun than I thought. I like my job, I like my kids, I like the weather in February. So no matter how much longer we are here, and even though I miss all the things I listed above, I think I can survive. I just need a really big can of bug spray.

This just made me laugh

I love these Anne Taintor designs. About 10 years ago, a friend of mine gave me a set of the coasters. They make me laugh every time I see them. In that time, I have seen almost all of the designs and they always crack me up. I came across a new one the other day, and it may be my favorite.

YOU KIDS ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!!!!!

This is how I felt on Thursday. Ever have one of those days where you feel like if one more person speaks to you, you might, in all probability, explode? Yeah. That was me. Except I could not avoid 25 voices saying "Mrs. Lewis! Mrs. Lewis! Mrs. Lewis!" It was one of those days where you turn to the kids and say " I am changing my name, and I am NOT telling you what it is!" And then they just stare at you. The main problem, I have come to realize, is that I have a very, very young class. Last year, I had a dream class. They were amazing. Frustrating sometimes, but really, really amazing. They were also more mature. Which makes a HUGE difference. This year, my kids are really young and really immature. As a result, THEY DO NOT LISTEN! To ANYTHING!!!!  I know, 9 and ten year olds are not known for their powers of observation and keen insight as well as a strong sense of paying attention, but at 10 years old, you should be able to do the following directions:

1. Put your pencil down.
2. Place your bubble sheet on TOP of your test, face up.
3. When you have done that, look at me.

and they can't. They are incapable of COPYING an overhead. They cannot walk in line. They cannot even line up. You know line up? Where you stand behind the person in front of you? Behind? The direction you learned in kindergarten? Some days I feel like I have room full of Golden Retrievers. Really enthusiastic, jumping all over the place, super sweet,  but essentially lobotomized.

     I thought it was me. I thought "OK. We need to change tactics, we need to go over rules and do more listening activities." I thought maybe I had not made myself clear enough. But last Thursday, not one but two teachers who were working with my kids said "What is wrong with them? How have you not torn your hair out?" It was a comforting conversation.

By the end of the day, however, I had turned into Mean Mrs. Lewis. Normally, Mrs. Lewis is pretty loud, and kind of brusque, but she will joke and fool around with her kids. She loves her kids and will hug them, high-five them, and talk about interesting things with them. Mean Mrs. Lewis is a cranky, very loud, not very nice lady who takes over. And being around her is no joke. She snaps, she snarls and she makes the classroom a generally unhappy place to be. Mean Mrs. Lewis makes her appearance when she feels like she has repeated herself 52,000 times and has not been heard once. She shows up after regular Mrs. Lewis has been interrupted, tugged on, talked-back to and ignored for the better part of the day. Mean Mrs. Lewis makes her kids sit at their desks doing solo, silent worksheet after worksheet after worksheet. Mean Mrs Lewis says things like "Do not even THINK about raising your hand unless you are bleeding or there is a piece of bone sticking through your skin. If you are going to barf, use the trash can. I do NOT want to hear about it." At the end of the day, I said to my kids "You have two choices. We can have another day like today and tomorrow we will do nothing but worksheets while you sit at your desks in silence, or you can decide that you are going to listen, pay attention and follow directions and we can have a nice day. It's up to you . Think about it tonight. Now pack up."

Today, everyone played on the computer, everyone got to make-up their work and hand it in, we went outside for recess, we watched a science movie and Mrs. Lewis did not have to raise her voice once. It was a lovely day. A fact I pointed out to them several times over the course of the eight-hour time-block we are together. Now I have a feeling that Mean Mrs. Lewis will be making an appearance again, but I don't think it will be in the near future.


P.S. - Today was picture day. It was 96 degrees with 98% humidity. We had pictures taken after PE (in Florida there are no gyms so PE is outside) and after lunch. Which was pizza. I cannot wait to see the photos.

New Kid on the Block

Whenever you get a new student, it is always cause for concern. Will they fit it? How will you help them fit in? Will the other kids be nice to them? How will this kid change your classroom chemistry? Will they make you want to scream now or will they wait until later? Are they going to have high-maintenance parents? Will they be high maintenance? You are just as nervous as the kid who walks through your door. The audition is for both of you, and you hope you both pass.
           One of my colleagues in third grade is getting a new student on Monday (it is actually stunning that she knows this far in advance. I like when they knock on your door at 7:49 and introduce you to the new student for the first time as the 7:50 bell rings.) Anyway, she mentions she is getting this new kid and wants to know if a certain fourth grader knows him as well. The fourth grader pipes up and says "Yeah! I know him! And I know why his mom Tasered him, too!"

She is really looking forward to Monday.