What do you live in, A BARN?

Those words were spoken to me once and only once by my husband while we were dating. I hadn't put down the toilet lid. WHAT? A man telling me to put down the toilet lid? Who was I dating and was I really that lucky? I was a little embarrassed about being called out on that, but from that moment on I've always put the lid down. Wherever I am. Hotel. Friend's house. Family's house. If there's a lid, I WILL close it.

Enter Dusty's cats. He got his two cats after I convinced him that they'd make his apartment and his life more happy since he lived alone. Had I known he was going to propose in a few months I would have NEVER encouraged it. 4 cats? Seriously? Well, that's what we have.

The first picture are my cuddly, furry, lovable cats Top: Yahtzee, Lower Level: Ginger.

The second picture shows Dusty's cats: Defensive Mode: Smitty, Attack Mode: Rodger.

Wait, it gets better. Third picture: Devil showin' it's true colors:

With Dusty so Proper, you'd hope that his manners would rub off on his feline children. But, no such luck. His cats DON'T EVEN BURY THEIR POOP! Honest truth. We both consistently have the toilet seat down to prevent appearing like we live in a barn, and his cats will paw at ANYTHING around the litter box, refusing to get their paws dirty by covering their poop with litter. One of his cats pooped... you'll hear clawing on the wall. Another one of his cats pooped... you'll hear it scratching the side of the washing machine (found next to the litter box). His cat pooped... you'll hear clawing on the floor. NEVER are his cats' poops covered.

Experts say that cat owners should have one litter box per cat, per level of home. I refuse to have 12 litter boxes to clean. We used to only have two. One upstairs, and one on the main level. I have recently upgraded to 4. Two upstairs and two on the main level. They are all being used. But NO LUCK with his cats. Rodger and Smitty still haven't learned to cover their poop. This makes getting out of the shower an unforgettable experience when the most recently added litter box is in your "get ready to start the day" bathroom. So what do I do? I COVER IT UP!

They must not have gotten the lecture. I wonder how our kids will turn out...

The 27 Hour Day

I feel like I often get great ideas while working out. Well, today, I figured out an answer to almost all the problems with elementary education. Are you ready for it?

The 27 hour day! Don't roll your eyes yet, just hear me out. This is how it would work: School would start in the morning along with most other businesses. The school day would remain the same: Kids going to their "specials" classes (art, music, gym, library, reach, etc), staff meetings once a month, and of course the insanely growing Professional Development that we are given which will surely fix the problem with failing children (even though it currently takes away from our small amount of planning time which is necessary to be a prepared teacher).

But here's where it all changes. After the kids leave, elementary teachers have an extra THREE HOURS of UNINTERRUPTED preparation and planning. They can read all 27 of their students' Reading Response Logs. They can read all 27 of their students' Writing Journal entries and comment on them so the kids know they have an actual audience with their writing. They can correct the weekly homework, district-encouraged math workbooks, and any other student work that needs to be looked over. When all the STUDENT work is done, they can sit down and read the Lucy Calkins'  Reading Workshop Chapter to prepare for the following day's lesson. They can read the different assigned chapters from their 5 different reading groups so they can have a meaningful discussion with students about what they read the previous night. They can sit down and read the Writing Workshop Chapter to prepare for the following day's lesson. Please keep in mind that EACH of these daily chapters is typically 16 pages long (as well as the Reading Workshop chapters). They can read over and plan for the following day's math investigation and/or create student specific problem solving questions. They can look at the grade level standards for History and Science and create units or modify preexisting units that will captivate the students and encourage learning. They can change their bulletin boards more than once a year. Then, once teachers get home after work, they still have time for a good healthy workout, won't need chiropractic appointments to fix their broken backs from carrying so much work home with them every night, and can pursue their own personal interests- like cleaning the house, working on a hobby, or just taking a bubble bath guilt-free.

So what are the students doing while out of school? MANDATORY FAMILY TIME! Yes! Students MUST spend the extra three hours with their family: reading together, going over any homework together, playing games together, going places together - NOT R-RATED MOVIES, cooking together, volunteering together, and finding ways to promote learning in all areas of life.

All teachers reading this are laughing right now at the thought of three extra hours of work- we're already underpaid, but get this, since this is THE answer to our problem, teachers would get PAID for their extra planning and work, thus feeling motivated to be the best teacher they could be- our extra work and contributions would finally feel valued- WE WOULD FEEL VALUED.

Now, there is a big problem with this picture: What if BOTH parents are in elementary education and have children of their own? Yeah, that is a problem. Teachers' kids need family time too. I guess I haven't worked that one out yet. And in re-reading what teachers would do in an extra three hours a day, I wonder if it's actually enough. I'd be willing to give it a try.

But for now, I'll just continue doing pretty much everything I listed above in the amount of time that I have - or however much I can get done before getting too stressed out and bringing the rest home with me to taunt me from my backpack and make me feel awful for even considering to sit down a read a book of my own choice, write this blog, or watch a movie with my husband. I'll keep putting off doing my scrapbooking, organizing, and any other hobby interests I have to make sure that I'm prepared for my next day of teaching. But you know what? I'll still do my best to smile every day at school and let my students know that my job is to be the best teacher I can be and their job is to be the best learner they can be. The question is, how long can elementary teachers last with a lifestyle like this?

Now, I need to decide: Time with my husband or reading tomorrow's chapters for school... What would you do? You'd think it'd be an easy choice, but nothing feels worse than having 27 students staring at you or getting out of control because you're not prepared...

Happy Tuesday Night.

I Will Always Try

I save things. I don't always like this animal compassion that I have, but I always give in to the desire to save animals from an unnecessary death as often as possible. Sometimes it results in getting other people involved in my animal rescues against their will...

Hwy Q from Middleton heading to Waunakee: Just about dusk. I see a HUGE turtle on the side of the road. I watch him as my car approaches the stoplights just beyond, praying that he has already crossed the road and will not attempt to cross the four lanes of traffic to get to the other side. To my dismay, I see him in the rearview mirror start to head into the first of 4 lanes of traffic. The light turns green, no one else is around... so I put my car in reverse and pull off the side of the road. Once I'm up to the turtle, I see that not only is he a HUGE snapping turtle, but he is watching me like a hawk, turning his body to follow my every move. Who do I call? My dad. What does he tell me? In order to move a snapping turtle you need to pick him up by the tail. THE TAIL?! Are you kidding me? I tried, with fear showing in my facial expressions and actions. I thought I firmly had the tail, but the giant moved around, almost lunging at me and pulled its tail in- giving me a nice gouge on my finger. At this time a police officer happened to be driving along and spotted me. He turned around to see what the problem was. When he saw the turtle and heard the advice about moving it by its tail, he said a few choice words and said there was no way he was touching that animal. I told him I wouldn't leave until the turtle was on the other side of the road, and told him not to worry about me. I went to my car and emptied out my box of outdoor equipment (rollerblades, frisbee, basketball, volleyball, glove, softball, etc- you never know when you'll need those things) and the cop went to his car and came back with an ice scrapper (in the middle of summer). He used the scraper to force the turtle to go into the box. Eventually the turtle was contained and the officer carried it across four lanes of traffic and into the tall grasses on the other side. He maintained a good distance from the box as he released the turtle. When he handed me my box I thanked him. He again said a few choice words and we both went on our way. My mood: Happy.

On Century Avenue, heading home after a number of disappointments, just about dusk, I came across the biggest raccoon I had ever seen in the middle of the road. It had been hit. I stopped my car, put on my flashers and approached the animal. It was on its back and was breathing heavily as it moved its feet in the air trying to move. I looked around and found myself alone on the typically busy road. I called my nearby friend with a truck who might run it over to put it out of its misery, but there was no answer. I looked at the raccoon and started balling right there in the middle of the road. I went to the back seat of my car and pulled out a plastic grocery bag. Using the bag to protect my hands, I began to haul the raccoon over to the side of the road, crying the entire way, apologizing to it for its predicament. Once safe on the side of the road, I watched it gasp a few more times, and then breathe his last breath and become still. My mood: Complete and Utter Misery. I went right home and cried myself to sleep.

On Gammon Road, early morning, heading to school (last week), I noticed a group of birds circling above the road in an unusual manner. As I got closer, I saw something white in the road. I figured it was a bird that had been hit. It was. Only, this bird was still sitting upright and looking around, but it couldn't move. I turned into the first possible place, keeping my eye on the bird and the cars that were hopefully missing it, quickly parked, and flew into the street. Thankfully the bird hadn't been hit again and I scooped her up and took her back to my car. A driver passing me gave me a funny look. I looked at the large (and surprisingly beautiful) seagull in my hands and wondered what I was going to do with it. I looked up at the crows waiting in the trees and told them, "NOT TODAY, CROWS!" Knowing I didn't have a box of sporting equipment in my car anymore, I did what any normal animal lover would do: I carefully set the seagull on the passenger seat next to me. With my foot shaking on the gas pedal, and my right hand petting the bird, telling it that it would be okay, I headed to school. Long story short, Animal Control came to pick up the bird. Having a very negative image of Animal Control in my mind, I was pleasantly surprised with how friendly the woman was who came to get my seagull. She was very optimistic about the bird and would be taking it to the Emergency Animal Hospital to be checked out. I'm pretty sure its leg was broken and it appeared to have an injury possibly from a pecking crow. I told my class it was our Thankful Seagull since it was the day before Thanksgiving. At the end of it all, my mood was: VERY HAPPY!

With plenty more stories to share, I'll leave you with my mother's advice to me over this Thanksgiving's visit. She said it would be wise to always have an animal crate and gloves in my car. And since my compassion for animals will never end, I think I'll take her up on that idea. Time to go to craigslist and find an animal crate.

Just for fun, here are two other pictures of "animal rescue" opportunities that I have had. I wish I had photos to go with them all.

My first litter of coons to rehab & release.

A partially blind dog I found stopping traffic
in the middle of Hwy 78. She hung out with me
for several hours before anyone claimed her.

The THAWP

I have some vivid memories of spending time with my cousins when we were all young. In a few of those memories, when my boy cousins would need a little "redirection" there was a heart-filled, solid, THWAP to the base of the back of their heads- given by their dad of course. Even though I found the THWAP a tad humorous, especially since it wasn't happening to me, I also semi-feared it. As I grew up, I found myself (once in a great while) using a very mild version of the THAWP when babysitting. It was never a hurtful THAWP, just a silly, "You know better, you doof!" kind of THAWP.

Well, this week, after one of my WONDERFUL students did something he wasn't supposed to, but there's no way I could be upset at him, I gave him a loving THWAP. I thought it was a totally fine, silly thing to do. We (the class) were all in good spirits that day. As I was walking back to the front of the room, I noticed that this student wasn't smiling... That's when the fear stepped in. Not the fear of getting THWAPPED myself, but the fear of kids saying that I HIT a student in my class.

I immediately tried to fix the situation, and with a smile I my face said, "That didn't hurt, did it?" He said, "A little." SHOOT! Full out apology, already imagining the phone call from his dad asking why I hit his son. My last comment was something along the lines of, "I feel really bad about that, I meant it as fun." He responded by saying very firmly, "Well, maybe this will make you feel better," as he walked directly over to me. I knelt down a little and prepared myself for a THWAP to the back of my head, fully expecting that's what he was going to do. Instead he gave me a HUGE HUG! "There!" he said, "Does that make you feel better?"

OMW. I love my students this year. I also dislike how I read into the small stuff too much. He was fine, the class was fine. I'm fine. But no more THWAPPING this year!

Completely Random Life

The days continue to fly by... Since my last post, my turtle continues to enjoy eating her feeder fish. Thankfully the bleach from cleaning the tank didn't get the best of her- I won't be making that mistake again!

And continuing on the topic of life, I got to see my sister over the weekend and help host her Baby Shower. 25 happy women in one house, all excited to celebrate the upcoming birth of her baby girl. When all was said and done, and it was only my sister and I hanging out, she gave me the opportunity to feel her baby moving in her round belly. I know life is a miracle, but I couldn't help thinking about a few X-Files moments.

Once I got back home, I was eager to use my 30% off coupon at Kohls. I'm in desperate need of a pair of new shoes (being able to touch your toes while having shoes on isn't a skill), black pants, a good fitting pair of jeans, and a winter coat (it's a little embarrassing when I go to put my hair up and strangers can see that I'm wearing a coat with holes under both arms). So after school today, I headed out for my amazing trip to Kohls, ready to spend money and come home with some great new items...

46 pairs of pants later, I discovered the same thing I discover every time I venture out to buy new pants: I'm short. The pants that fit me well are always too long. The pants that have the right length, are bulky everywhere else. Depending upon the brand & department within the store, my size ranges from 4 to 9 and in other clothing XS to XL. Feeling beaten and discouraged, I sauntered into the baby department. Let's just say that it's easy to buy super cute baby clothes when nothing fits you right. I think I'll have to make a return tomorrow. But I did wind up with a good new pair of shoes. =) I'll show them off to my students tomorrow. They'll be proud of me.

Speaking of students, does anyone want to read 27 writing notebooks and 27 reading response logs for me tonight? Yeah, I didn't think so. 

Happy Tuesday Night!

And then there were four...

That is Turtle Makena. Turtle is what we typically call her, but her middle name, Makena, means Smiling Happy One- given to her by a former student who adopted her for a summer. She is my classroom rescue pet (African Sideneck) that I've had for a couple years now.

When I first put in a live plant for her to enjoy, I didn't think twice about the snail we discovered that had been on the plant. We let it live. And what I wouldn't give to go back to that day and kill that snail. As the years passed, more and more snails continued to appear. Emptying out the rocks and cleaning the tank regularly did not help eliminate the snail problem.

This year, however, the tank developed more than just a snail problem. It got worms. WORMS! If I google diagnosed it correctly, they are Nematodes. Smaller than 3 millimeters and appear after continual over feeding. I warned my students that we can only feed her a certain amount of food each day, but it wouldn't surprise me if they figured it wouldn't hurt to give her a little more (she is a beggar)- or if a student fed it when it wasn't his/her job for the week resulting in more than twice the amount she should get. However it happened, the tank got disgusting. I cleaned it multiple times per week and it didn't get better. On top of that, Turtle wasn't eating. I've never seen her NOT eat. I think she gets that from me.

So earlier this week, turtle got relocated to a new TINY apartment. A 10 gallon tank with a new filtration system and heater while I worked on her 40 gallon home. She still wouldn't eat. Enough was enough. I went to the store, bought a huge container of bleach, and went to town. After all the original water was removed, I poured in the bleach. It was the first time I experienced JOY from death. I watched the worms wiggle and thrash around in the bleach until there was no more movement. I watched the snails fall off the sides of the tank and lay motionless among the gravel. Well, maybe it wasn't joy, but more of RELIEF!

Just to be sure, I let the bleach sit in the tank overnight. Kudos to the students that sit closest to her tank because it smelled of an over chlorinated pool for two days. Friday came and Turtle still wasn't eating. I was feeling desperate. I knew that our principal was going to let me in on Sunday to finish working on the tank, but I didn't want to wait. I emptied the bleach and the rocks and hauled the tank to my car. Brought it home, scrubbed it out, and hosed it down. Called school to see if the building was still open and raced back to school to reconstruct Turtle's home. I made a quick stop at PetSmart and did something I never planned on doing. I bought feeder fish.

Once I got the 40 gallon tank back into my room, I began to fill it up, one bucket at a time. I had also bleached and scrubbed down her basking log (I am REALLY hoping nothing survived through that since it didn't sit overnight in it) and returned it to it's proper place in the tank. I talked to Turtle as I removed the nice new filter and heater from her apartment to her home. I released the 5 feeder fish into the sparkling clean tank, put the basking light above the basking log and looked around to make sure I had not forgotten anything. It was time to return Turtle to her home.

I put her on her basking log and she hurried off of it and roamed with pleasure (I hope) around her proper home- free from the tiny 10 gallon jail she had stayed in for three long nights. And then I grabbed a chair and sat to watch the show- if there would be a show. I just wanted to see her eat one fish.

As I watched the fish swim around her, I saw Turtle look at me. It seemed like she was saying, "I've been alone in this tank for three years and you want me to EAT the first living thing you put in here with me?" But as I waited, I think she was saying, "Thank you for making me feel alive again!" I watched her stay still as a rock, only moving her little eyes to follow the fast moving fish as they swam by her. Suddenly, in one quick movement, her neck stretched out and snapped at a fish. Miss. I was excited. I watched longer. The second time: Miss. The third time: SUCCESS! She gulped that fish down and seemed excited to be a hunter. Seeing that it was just about 8:00pm on a Friday night, I knew I needed to head back home, but at least I had seen her eat. I knew she would have some food that would not rot in her tank for the next two days. I wanted to wait until there were three fish left, but I, myself, was hungry and wanted to get home.

Here's hoping on Sunday, when I go in to get some work done, that she'll be a renewed turtle. If all is well over the next couple weeks, I think we'll add a friend to her tank- one that she can't eat. That was the original plan before we got worms...

This was my FIRST turtle tank picture when I got her. There is that snail-bearing plant. And I can see that Turtle HAS grown quite a bit since I first got her. When I go in on Sunday, I'll take a new photo of Turtle in her home.

Back to Reality

Walked into my classroom that smelled like rotten garbage: Thank you practicum student for your Decomposing Banana Experiment.

Helped a teacher unjam a crumply paper-packed photocopier: Hello slice to the knuckle and gushing blood.

Ate way too many pieces of Halloween Candy given to me by my students: Good Bye morning workout.

Yep. I'm back to reality.
Time to Foos!

Bring It!

I'm feeling a little bit invincible right now. I know this feeling won't last, but I'll take it while I have it!

First of all, there has been the recent passing in the senate that teachers can now be observed, evaluated, and let-go based on student performance, lack of progress, and bad testing scores. I have mixed feelings about this. Instead of ranting and raving about the necessity to hold parents accountable, as well as keeping in mind that some children are just trying to survive each day, I say BRING IT! I welcome anyone into my classroom. Come see the environment we, as a class, have created. Come see my students greet each other eye-to-eye and take the time to listen to each other every day. Come see their Reading Logs, Writing Journals, and Red Hot Problem Solving Notebooks. Come listen to them as they participate in classroom discussions and activities while they learn about the world around them. Observe me. Evaluate me. And I dare you to let me go. (I told you I was feeling invincible!)

Secondly, I've started making working out a priority again. I've been mixing up what I do as well as making sure it gets done. Twice this week I worked out before school- and today, I worked out after school as well. I know it's not realistic to work out twice in one day, but hey, why not do it while I'm motivated to? I know it won't last forever.

Finally, over the past year, I've been cutting out the amount of alcohol I consume. I went from being a 21 year old who never had alcohol, to a 31 year old, finding it easy to make a delicious mixed drink at the end of a long day. Am I proud of that? No. Am I ashamed of it? No. Thankfully, my addictive personality didn't cling to alcohol and it's easy to pass on an evening drink. I just need to take the time to think about whether I really want it or not. Once I take two seconds to think about it, saying "No" is easy.

So, with having an AWESOME class this year and feeling confident that I'm making a difference, working out regularly once again, and passing on the quickly adding calories of an evening beverage, I'm feeling ON TOP OF THE WORLD!

Now I only hope that tomorrow my day goes well, I don't skip out on my workout (since I have to do it in the morning because of Foosball in the evening), and that I don't give into the temptation of a drink while playing Foosball at a bar. Ooosh. Maybe I posted this too soon...

Happy Wednesday Night!
What makes you feel invincible?