16
February

A four-hour nap later…

I’m sort of feeling human. The last Valentine’s Day gift I got from my kiddos was a cold. Good thing I have four days off to get myself closer to being well.

It’s been all school this week, between February holiday madness squeezed into one week and the school tossing in a Walk-a-thon on Friday, just because. While I’d love to have the entire week off next week, I’m going to the three days of workshop sessions.

So I got the email with the schedule and I’m reading it, and lo and behold my eyes bug out. There, in black-and-white pixels, is my name.

As a presenter: technology use in the classroom.

So my jaw is hanging open and I’m wondering who or what managed to get my name pasted there. But I shut the computer down and run off to my committee meeting after school, and run into the person in charge of the presentation.

I sidle up to her.

Me: Hey, I saw my name on the list of presenters for the tech thing on Friday?

Her,  with a surprised face, which clears suddenly: I didn’t ask you, did I?!

Me: Um… no. You didn’t.

Her: *laughs*

Me: *not laughing*

Her: I put names on the list; I didn’t think they’d publish them!

Me: *nodding*

Her: Two minutes, talking about how you’re using Ed Caliber for those video clips, that’s all. Two minutes.

Me, still stunned by the entire thing: Oh. Okay. I can probably do two minutes.

There were two other names on that list beside mine. I wonder if they know they’re doing a two-minute presentation on Friday…..

no comments

1
February

Lots to do and no real inclination to get anything accomplished. I know. I’ll read.

Except for the tendency to click (clockwork knees, anyone?) and swell, the knees seem to be settling down nicely. I’m still icing, although I’m not sure how I’m going to accomplish that at school, which is what the PA wants. Physical therapy is next on my list, and hopefully, I’ll get that handled today.

So I’m free.

Or not. I have a recital in a week and a half, and I need to work–really work!–on not pulling down. If I have a nemesis, it’s my soft palate, and what a pain it is. I’ll be working on that today and tomorrow, in between updating my lesson plans for next week, reading my second novel on my daughter’s Kindle, and cleaning whatever I should clean (my bathroom and vacuuming the stairs and bedroom.) I also need to write lesson plans for Wednesday, because I’m out all day for the writing committee, and after that, I’ve got a two-hour meeting on trimester assessments.

I would just like to say having a week off will not compensate for that one day on my rear. No matter how much we accomplish as teams. This year is all about putting out wildfires, and I’m getting whiplash.

However, an image mugged me yesterday, and now I have a character with a story, although she’s not sharing much yet. I’m doing some research in order to dig it out of her and my subconscious is taking its sweet time letting me know just what it might be. There may be some first person narration going on to tear it out of her.

I’m still working on the old short story, and researching blackbirds to find some more strange/horrific elements to add. I’ve also got plans to do a reverse outline on the thing, to see where I need to add or subtract. We’ll see how that goes and thanks to one of the Posse for that notion.

And since the dog is asleep at my feet, I do believe I’ll start with some reading. It’s a freebie, so if I can’t stand it, I won’t feel guilty about not finishing.

 

no comments

19
January

Another week closer…

Another week crossed off.

Not enough accomplished, however, so tons (literally, those things are heavy) came home with me. I have six days of lesson plans to write for my sub.

Creative writing for the woo. Not.

We have a craft that we do for MLK’s day. On a black frame, with newspaper in the center, the kiddos glue three multicolored hands. The hands lap over each other and a small picture of MLK gets glued down on top of it all. The story I heard from another long-time teacher is that one long-retired kinder teacher asked her class a week later after completing the craft what the class remembered about MLK.

A little boy’s hand shot up.

“I know! I know!” Then, breathlessly, he announced, “He had three hands!”

I spent a fair amount of time yesterday reminding my class MLK did not have three hands as they completed the craft.

Last week was about a bunch of pre-op stuff. I particularly liked my doctor’s PA who went over what to expect for me. “You know those people who say wow, two days later and my leg was great! when they have their meniscus surgery? Yeah, that won’t be you. Your tear is on the outside and that one will take two to three months. But the MRI is ambiguous about that possible tear on the inside.”

Since all the pain I feel is on the inside, I’m pretty sure there’s a tear there that  surgery will vanquish.

Although I’m probably going to have pain on the outside now for a long time. Eesh. All I want to do is shift gears with that leg without wincing or hissing in pain.

Next car, an automatic. I’m too old for this stuff.

However, the good news about actually doing this surgery is that I will have ten days of enforced relaxation. I probably won’t do anything heavy duty in terms of cleaning. I only have two books unread, and there’s only so much time I can practice for the upcoming recital.

What does that leave?

OMG, writing.

no comments

21
December

Whew

School’s out.

And I’m not actually sick–so far. But I’m headed to bed way early tonight, because I’m exhausted. It always goes downhill from that state, so if I can fix it quickly, I shouldn’t actually get anything else.

Our fifth-grade reading buddies came into today to help wrap the kindergartner’s presents for their parents. Their teacher watched me whirl around the room for fifteen minutes and decided watching me was exhausting. (I don’t think she’ll be switching grade levels any time soon, no matter how much I beg.)

But it explains so much of the rest of the day, which involved compressing a normal five-hour day’s activities into four hours. I did it, but I had to run the day on zoom.

In doomed news, the verdict on the PC is that the hard drive is toast. Next step is to slave it to a new hard drive and see what we can recover. Everyone cross their finger and pray hard. All my writing is on it. All the short stories. All my school stuff. All my email. My Photoshop files. My photographs. My music. Those are the critical things.

I do have some things–like the latest novel–on the Mac, so it’s not all death and destruction, but I was a bad, bad girl and did not back up files as often as I should have. Back up yours right this second!!

I will purchase some sort of portable drive, so I have no excuses in the future.

Meanwhile, I am trying not to think horrible fates, but I don’t have the brain power/time/or energy to deal with it until after Christmas.

There are times when I hate technology.

And then there are days like yesterday, when I whip out my cell phone and take a photo of the classroom behavior chart to send to Santa.

(The number of children who believe grows phenomenally the second the phone comes out. Now if I only had an elf-manned hidden webcam in my classroom like the transitional K classroom does….)

 

 

no comments

11
December

And the latest item on the chopping block

appears to be the playhouse in my classroom. Along with all the other playhouses in the kindergarten classrooms. We’ve been told that our classrooms are old-fashioned.

This is what happens when people who have no freaking CLUE about early childhood education are put in charge and decide what school should look like for five-year olds.

I probably should have taken the transitional K position in retrospect, although the TKs are killers this year. (Think bands of wild, roving dogs loose and multiply by 10, because the beginning of the year that poor teacher had forty children in her class.)

I am now upset enough by it all, that I am actually considering a political movement by talking individually to school board members. I’ve yet to research the impact of play on children’s social development, but since social skills are mentioned in the CA guidelines for extended day, I’m going to delve.

Swear to god these lesson plans and everything else they’re throwing at us are designed to keep us so overwhelmed that we don’t have energy to protest.

no comments

1
December

Done. Or maybe done in.

Wednesday: The flu hit me. Hard.

Thursday: I am chopped liver, but return to school. By the end of the day, I have diagnosed the sore throat as a cold.

Friday: I am now wheezing. I break down and use the inhaler when I get fed up with the elephant sitting on my chest.

This year. This year sucks.

I am trying to put my frustration down to illness and stress, and remind myself that when I feel better, things will look rosier. To no avail.

I can’t use names, and my district is so small that I can’t even identify positions, because if someone happened upon the entry, the person would be identified.

With the latest tidbits (no, we should not be doing crafts of any sort during group time–that should be academics only, and consider not taking toys/playhouse when we move to the temporary site next year) I am considering myself a fossil. Apparently teaching to the whole child (Those crafts? Eye-hand coordination development. The playhouse? Social skills development, along with English acquisition.) isn’t considered necessary.

Mind you, no one is saying this directly to me, but to a co-teacher. However, I am considering having a heart-to-heart with my immediate supervisor.

Retirement–five years early–is starting to look good.

I have thirty-one years experience in kindergarten, two credentials (elementary and early childhood education) and a Montessori certificate–you can’t tell me that people who’ve never taught (or for very long before entering the upper management levels) or who’ve never taught my grade level know what is critical for kindergarten. I would love to stick some of these people in my classroom and tell them to show me how it’s done. You want me to level up to common core writing standards–sure. Can do. I will scaffold everyone to the point where they can produce three or four grammatically correct sentences and two-thirds of my class will produce those independently by June. But tell me exactly how I should be doing it?

I don’t think they have the expertise. I don’t even go to many educational conferences any more because I’ve seen so much and they don’t bring many new insights.

This is a relatively quiet outburst on my part. I am churning and I have been since I woke at 4A this morning.

I’m also considering alternate career choices.

(Just to show you that life at school is not all doom, a couple of my boys pieced together a complete sentence with wooden linking letters. They copied mine from the board and forgot to put in spaces, but hey, first steps. One of my girls wrote in under eight minutes: “I am thank for my mom and dad. I love them so much.” She is flying as a fluent writer. However, alternate career choices still look better.)

And now to fix Adobe Player whose recent upgrade which totally fouled my ability to play YouTube videos without crackling or audio delays. Only reason why the darn thing works in IE is that I have a 10.0 version there.  I am not relying on IE every time I want to listen to something on YouTube. Stoopid upgrades.

no comments

15
November

Numbers

Number of pumpkin pies: thirty-two.

Number of successful sticker bribes in exchange for mini pie plates: seventeen.

Number of parent conferences: thirty-two.

Number finished: twenty-six.

No shows: three.

(Guess how many phone calls tomorrow.)

Number of biters on Wednesday: one.

Number of biters on Thursday: two.

Number of biters who did not learn a lesson after the first bite and were bitten in return: one.

Number of biters seeing the principal tomorrow (provided he has no unexpected meetings): one.

Number of small children I have had to tell that they are not sharks: one.

(Did it help? Ehn. Jury’s out. But–nooooooooooooooo….)

One more day locked in a classroom before another week (unpaid, d’oh) off.

Number of weeks deserved off: at least three.

 

 

 

no comments

10
November

And the weekend is just beginning

A weekend of work.  School work, to be exact.  I brought homework to be stapled and stuffed home with me, along with everything else: pie plates to be washed and labeled with names,  little books to be stapled, worksheets to be created, ELD and history units to be compiled, and what I left–the math chapters to be ripped and stapled, I just remembered.

My lesson plans for math got finished at 10P  last night, and I didn’t get home until 7P.

I am mentally chastising myself for having decided to do the pumpkin pies after all with 32 kids–I don’t have enough pie plates at this point, and I’m not sure the extra ones I ordered on Amazon on the 3rd will get here before Thursday. I’m baking on Wednesday. The cafeteria needed the oven space on Thursday.

And next week are parent conferences and report cards. I have thirteen conferences on Tuesday nine on Wednesday, seven on Thursday, and only three on Friday. By then, I’ll be dead.

Good thing we have the entire week of Thanksgiving off.  I don’t care that those are five unpaid days. I’ll collapse, see the knee guy on Tuesday and get the bad news, and then cook Thanksgiving, head to Fresno to see my mom and attend a baby shower for a niece-in-law, and return home Sunday in order to return to school and Christmas hell. Somewhere in there before Christmas, we have to make time for half-day subs so my partners can observe me and what I’m doing to constrain 32 kids into some semblance of active learning. And then I’ve got to have a half-day sub to observe them and offer suggestions. There’s another person, too, available to observe, but I think I’ll get there first if I can.

Why am I teaching again? It’s not the kids that are getting to me, really, although as I traveled campus yesterday, I spoke to a TK who was misbehaving and got him to sit exactly as he was supposed to, menaced a group of second-grade boys who showed up for a picnic lunch in the office and seemed to think it was fine, until I suggested that they might look as though they were being punished, and then groused at a couple of fourth graders having grape stomping contests outside the cafeteria and made them pick up the mess. Later I collected all three boys who were supposed to be in my class for ELD but were playing on the playground and nailed them for misbehavior. I lectured the entire group in Spanish for ten minutes instead of actually teaching English–because no other teacher in kindergarten can. And they needed to hear it.

You know, I have no problem with compliance. I may not actually be the principal, but they respond to me as though I am. And I can make them feel guilty as hell. Which is all I want, really.

One of my comadres is talking about leaving kinder next year if we have thirty-two again. She’s probably not the only one with experience who is ready to quit. I’m really hoping the money from prop 30 makes its way into our coffers and provides enough that we can go back to 24 or 25 again. We don’t have enough money to buy additional yard duty people, and these marauding hordes of kinders are impossible for them.

Ah well. It’s quiet for the moment–I only have Harley snoring beside me. If my allergies would settle down, I’d be good.

Okay, and if I had a housekeeper, I’d be better.

So I’m off to do some stapling and clear the decks for the mental work of report cards.

no comments

15
September

More school

No matter how fast I run, I can’t catch up.

I can’t even catch a glimmer of it.

Last week started on zoom and ended with me spattered across my bed at 8:00P two nights in a row. I can do 5A wake-ups. Just don’t expect me to make it to an adult bedtime.

However, back to school night (Thursday) is over. School photos (Friday) are done. Funny how those photos worked out–they increased our class size, but only kept a 20 minute window for each class’ individual photos.

Have you ever tried getting 5YOs to cooperate?

Some do.

And then there are the others. I had one this year who could not keep his spine straight, his hands in his lap, not rock the box his feet were resting on, and smile at the camera simultaneously.

After many tries, (and me behind her, trying to catch his eye) the photographer went for three out of the four.

The group photo on the steps actually was easier, which shocked the photographer and myself. First, no one fell on the steps. No one sat down. Everyone lifted their hands on cue and dropped them to their sides on cue, and even smiled on cue.

No one blinked. No one turned.

It took us longer to get in place than to take those photos, and the photographer thanked me profusely.

I have no idea what the TK class was like before me. I have a guess or two, though.

Mostly, I feel boring.

My life revolves around school and school and school, with an occasional choir rehearsal thrown in for good measure, and dealing with the house/yard/pool in the off moments. The spouse is traveling around Pennsylvania and Maryland, the dog is not dead–although I watch him constantly and get nervous when he starts coughing. His meds aren’t fixing everything.

There is no writing in my current existence, unless you count the lesson plans we’re doing online, and I’ve got the math plans down to about fifteen minutes per daily plan. For one subject. I think we’ll have four by the time everything’s implemented.

I can’t wait for full days, because I will have time to actually teach. Right now, I’m still working on appropriate school behaviors.

It’ll get better, right? Someday? (Can’t wait for thirty parent conferences come November, though.)

no comments

2
September

Swirling down the drain

It’s been a long week, filled with school angst, meeting angst, and just good, all-around stress.

Yesterday, I did nothing.

Well, I sang at a funeral with the large choir, I got a pedicure, and best of all, I took a nap. Which means, I didn’t sleep as much last night, but oh, well.

Today is all about catching up–housework, laundry (yippee! I have a working washing machine!) and staying focused on those two items while beer-making ensues. (And the Spouse’s new hobby with added people takes over the backyard and kitchen.) Tomorrow? I think I’ll finish up whatever needs finishing, research some school stuff again, and basically collapse by the end of the day.

Tuesday night? It’s my way-early birthday gift and I’m going to Les Miz. I am super excited to see this show and since the last time I went to one of this particular company’s productions, it was to see Patti Lupone and Mandy Patinkin, I have high hopes.

Music resumes–both choirs start up rehearsals again this week. I’m glad, because it’s been a hole without them. My voice lessons move to a new location, after seven-eight years in the old studio–Paul’s spare room. I’ve started on Dido’s Lament, which is a lovely piece of early opera by Purcell. Scroll to 3:00 to find the beginning and skip the recitative bit. I couldn’t get it to do that for me.

I’m also working on another piece I adore–”Sweet Liberty” from the musical Jane Eyre.

Yes, the musical. Mind you, they took some liberties by adding that modern touch of women’s lib. (I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a theme running through the book, but it’s been a long time since I re-read, so my memory may be faulty.) No actual visuals on this one, sorry. But the song is beautiful and calls to me.

And about the writing–I did have a novel thought in the midst of the teaching day, but no way of making a note about it, and now it’s gone.

And that’s it for the writing. I can’t wait for everything to settle down, but I’m afraid it’s going to be a long time. Feelings are still running high what with the high class size numbers. Test scores district-wide seem to have risen based on what I can gather from the state department, but that doesn’t mean we’re over the hurdle. At all.

All I know is that we’re being asked to do more with less time, less support, and more children. If it weren’t for my parents this year, I would be in a morass of depression like so many others in town.

And now that I’ve depressed myself, I think I’ll go walk the dog.

no comments

« Previous Entries