January whizzes by in a blur.

January is gone. January seemed to fly by in such a hurry, it's hard to believe half of the school year is over. I listened to an article on NPR about the reason time seems to fly by faster as you get older... fascinating stuff... It sure makes me want to go out and find new and novel things to do to put the skids on this perpetual state of fast-forward I feel like I'm in!

When I take a look at what I set out to do - to write in the blog every day, I can say I did okay! I think I see 31 posts in January, and while that is cheating a little (a couple of posts on a couple of days; no posts on a couple of others,) I'll take it.

Little victories matter.

 

It's hard to see this picture, but it is a picture of a retired teacher and a former student. The student is a guy who most certainly rides a Harley - tattoos up and down his arms, long hair - in short, he's a caricature of a biker. We were having drinks last night (emphasis on the plural) and debriefing a particularly trying week. We were talking about all of the bullshit we put up with at school and how important it is to hang on to little victories.

Nailing jello.

We are one week in to the new semester and I am ready to poke my eyes out with a dull crayon. I have diligently pin-pointed students who struggled last semester - those who had a lot of absences and/or tardies - those who had a difficult time behaving... I have whittled my list of 500 charges down to 50 who need at least weekly attention (some need DAILY attention.) And now begins the task of keeping all 50 of them where they belong each hour of the day. Picture me, trying to get 50 kittens to stay in a box... kittens who would rather be exploring (except I work with bad-ass kittens who want to go smoke by Sam's Club or make out with other hot little kitties in the stairwells.) I really DO have to just be amused by the things that happen each day, don't I?

Who is in charge of this mess?

So in the statistics section of today's paper, I read this:

Besides the second announcement being a little untraditional, the name of the first mother of the second announcement made my stomach sick. Take a look at the news article from a few months ago. Maybe she can take her new baby to her sentencing in a Snugli. Who is in charge of this mess?

Enable them to death.

It breaks my heart to work with student after student who is enabled to death by parents. Parents are so sure I spend my time sitting in my office plotting against their child... oh, to have that much time... Pa-leese.

Mind-numbing therapy.

I'm about to start my period. I'm sorry to say, a few kids got the wrath of me today. I hate it when, at the end of the day, I feel like I didn't serve them well. Even when I feel like shit, they deserve dignity and respect. Don't get me wrong, I didn't treat kids disrespectfully... but I certainly didn't have the compassion I aim to have most days...

Oddly enough, I enjoyed finishing a 42 page report for the state today. I "had" to close my door and be alone for about four hours this morning. Who would have thought a mind-numbing chore could be so therapeutic!

Does that make me an idiot?

I got an email from a woman at work - I had been cc:ed (although I couldn't tell that right away by looking at the message in my inbox). The subject line said "JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW." In my mind I was opening one of those mushy emails that has a nice statement about how much someone appreciates you...

The sender is the records clerk so this is a very busy time of year for her. It turns out it's something about how she had to change a grade for a student for one reason or another.

Does that make me an idiot? Perhaps.

As if she knew it were true...

What is it that people enjoy so much about gossip? I can almost understand teenagers gossiping... they are emotionally immature and are still trying to figure out their places in the world. They don't realize the consequences of what they are saying - how their words can leave lasting scars on the victims of their stories.

Do-in' good!

There is a special needs boy at school named Nick. Nick is hands down THE HAPPIEST kid I have ever met! He makes his own lunch every day (every day it's the same - baloney sandwich, fruit cup, and a juice box). He goes to the cafeteria for A Lunch and scarfs down his meal and then he makes his rounds: He stops by the front desk of the office where I can hear Dawn say, "Hey, Nick, how's it going?" He replies, "Do-in' Good!" He stops in to see the SRO to get a high five from a guy with a gun. "Good to see you Nick! How ya doin'?" "Do-in' Good!" He stops in each AP's office and each counselor's office and then heads back to the cafeteria to hang with his peeps.

Thanks, Matt's dad!

I got an email from a teacher who said a mother called in and excused her son from the teacher's class, but the kid was later seen in another classroom, working on a project. The teacher was a little miffed that the kid obviously lied to his mother to get her to excuse him and when she (the teacher) confronted the student, he because insubordinate and rude.

Something's got to give.

It's that time of year again. The end of the semester brings with it students who are in tears because as it turns out, a last ditch effort most often isn’t enough. Students find out they need to repeat a class and parents decide it's time to actively... parent... and no one is happy.

Everything's temporary given enough time.

These are tense times in high school. Seniors who are failing are freaked out - their parents are more freaked out... Juniors who are failing are mad - their parents are more mad... Sophomores who are failing are apathetic - their parents are too... and finally, Freshmen who are failing are still in denial that they have to take a class over again (or several classes over again) - and oddly enough, their parents are too! I have been yelled at, cried at, and cussed at today. I got into my car, cranked the tunes, and took the long way home - pulling over to enjoy the view of the river along the way!

Address the gap.

So much of the time, we approach a problem by examining, studying, and dwelling on what isn't right -OR- by pacing around and wringing our hands about how we will never reach the desired goal. We are so good at admiring the problem (or fretting about the impossibility of the target,) but we fail even to take a peek at possible solutions. Instead of this method, we should spend time finding and then addressing the gap.

It goes on.

It’s interesting that some people can go about their day, working independently, competently… until someone else shows up… and then they have to run every decision by the other person. Some wives complain that their husbands are that way as parents... alone, they are great! But when the wife shows back up, all of a sudden she is shouldered with the work! Where does that sudden feeling of incompetence come from? Or maybe it's a sudden lack of confidence? Does the person think his or her decisions will be scrutinized? I don't know what it is, but today it's making me want to go hide in another office and be unavailable! But enough ranting...

Blighter's Rock.

I wanted to write something about a place by the shore called Blighter's Rock. It's an imaginary place I go when I have all of my energy sucked out of me and yet I want to continue writing. I don't want to go there, but a gravitational force sucks me in that direction. When I have no energy, the "juices" I'd normally use to create - anything - are gone. It's those days that, as Mel described in her blog, "the cat rubs up against me, wanting something from me, and it sends me over the edge." It's THOSE days that I am pulled to Blighter's Rock, and there is no coming back!  

Criticism is an indirect form of self-boasting.

Why do we let some things bother us so much? I think I have a decent grasp of my priorities. My work involves a lot of time outside of the traditional work day, but I really try to include my family in the after-hours stuff - like watching game after game after game of the sport du jour (but let's face it, there is nothing painful about watching our varsity boys play ball!) I try to attend each and every activity, skipping one here or there when there isn't a way to resolve a conflict with my personal/family schedule. So why do I let the little comments get to me?

Cross-town week is put to bed.

The key is not the "will to win" . . . everybody has that. It is the will to prepare to win that is important.

~Bobby Knight

"Cross-town Week" just about kicked my butt! This week was crazy with disciplinary issues at school and then the boys played across the river on Tuesday and the girls played in our house on Thursday (both of those nights we were getting home about 9:45), and today it was one thing after another!

I haven't earned a beer like this in a while!

Bragging rights.

The "cross-town" basketball games were this week. In a small town (by America's standards), but a big city (by Montana's standards!) with only two high schools where the town is divided by a river (how's that for an obvious LINE down the middle!), each time the two high schools play each other, it's battle for a year of bragging rights.

Go ahead, I'm listening.

I'm disenchanted. It's not about my thighs this time or my inability to make good decisions about my bed time. It's about listening (or lack thereof).

I'm disenchanted by people who SAY they are "listening," when it really feels like they want to LOOK like they are listening. Listening is a great, generous thing (just what we want to have people see us doing!), but when one says he's listening, but doesn't act like he's HEARD, it kind of negates the listening, doesn't it?

“Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.” ~Karl Menninger

What does it say about a person?

I went to the mailboxes at school today and got my handful of silly stuff. I get prom catalogs (which immediately pawn off to Julie!), graduate credit opportunities (which I pawn off to teachers who I know need a kick in the butt to start master's work), and the smattering of "real" mail (which I throw on my desk to deal with later - quite a system I have there, huh?)

Finish each day and be done with it.

I did it! I went to sleep at 9:00 and fell asleep quickly (I think!) Oh shit, now that means I have fewer excuses not to exercise! What a crock!

This week, I have the boys' cross-town game on Tuesday at GFH and the girls' cross-town game on Thursday at CMR... it will be a busy week, but I've got to be more consistent with exercise than LAST week (since I couldn't get any worse!) All I have to do is walk more than twice and I've done better than before! I think my mom said improvement is what it's about... If that's the case, I better not walk more than three times, or it will be harder to improve the next week (I'm really liking this logic...)

It's a fine line.

It’s a fine line…I am having a hard time exercising in the morning because my back is so tender, but I have gotten on the treadmill for an hour in the evening and I’m wide awake until TOO LATE! I used to say, “John talks about having to ‘wind down’ before going to bed, but me? heck no! I can go right to sleep!” Well, that may not be true after all… maybe I didn’t know that before because it never occurred to me to… exercise… Last week, I got on the treadmill for a little under an hour sometime in the evening (I don’t remember how late it was) and I had a REALLY hard time going to sleep that night.

Next week's a new week.

"I’ve pretty much accepted I’m talking to myself in my blog posts." Posted by vander1 on ruminations.com

It's probably too early in 2010 to have this kind of attitude, right? It was just that kind of week... I'm sure the treadmill will make me feel better though. (as if.) Getting up early to walk on the the treadmill hasn't worked well because my back hurts so terribly, I can't even work up a sweat as I "tread" as lightly as possible to try to avoid feeling my back tweaking! And last week was nightmarish at work as I had activities to supervise (or kids to taxi around) three of the four nights. How do people do it? I told the girls I had better strike a few yoga poses first in the morning to see if I can do it!

Next week's a new week...

Crunching numbers.

Let's go ahead and stop using the phrase "crunching numbers." It doesn't put any type of helpful visual imagery in my head - and it's annoying – especially when what you really mean is “add.”

I sat through a very long meeting today and all I could do was think about the plethora of items on my desk that I could have been working on. Because I was so distracted, I couldn't focus on the content of the meeting, so I sat there instead, making a list of every annoying thing that was said.

Deep thoughts.

"I bet if you were in some old west gang, and you were dragging a guy along the ground with your horse, it'd probably make you really mad to look back and see him reading a magazine." ~Jack Handy

No embarrassing accolades.

The school district is moving to a Microsoft Exchange server and in the process, moving everyone to Outlook 2007 for email rather than QuickMail, the inane program we used before, which was anything but ("quick"). Ever heard of Quickmail? Right. No one has. Anyway, I boycotted QuickMail a long time ago and have always used Outlook.

Just desserts.

...continued from yesterday's "Karma."

Folks who fart as frequently and freely as we do really do deserve a gaggle of flatulent animals.

A few years ago, we got Jessie, a Boston Terrier who is the sweetest dog. She is smart and tenacious, and she farts. She doesn't fart a little, she doesn't let go of SBDs*, she farts, audibly, ALL THE TIME. She has the walking farts as she walks out of a room pffffttt, pffffttt, pffffttt, pffffttt. She will fart while she waits for you to throw a ball for her, pbtbtbtbtzzzbtbt (followed by the joyful wagging of her little, callused, stump of a tail). She will fart while she is curled up in the living room sleeping while everyone surrounding her is enjoying a peaceful, quiet evening, thrrrrrrrptptptptptptflpflpflpflpflprrrrrrtttroot. It’s not something we looked for in a pet, but it just happened…and it couldn’t have happened to a more fitting family.

Karma.

Farting is funny. Not funny "ha-ha," but roll on the floor, nearly wet myself FUNNY (and ever since I had kids, wetting myself in laughter has become a lot easier... I've GOT to get back to Kegels... anyway, I digress).

Fear and loathing.

Why does the day before returning to work after a long break remind me of the same fear and loathing I feel before grading a stack of 50 poorly-written essays or shopping at Walmart or starting to organize a closet that has taken on a life of its own?

Luck be a lady.

Isn't life a little like Wheel of Fortune (probably a LOT like it if you think of all of the religious and philosophical allegories surrounding "Rota Fortunae"). I’m talking about the game show, though…Wheel of Fortune gives players clues as to what might be hidden behind the tiles, but requires the individual player’s skill AND the luck of the spin to seal the deal. A smart player with great skill might get a bad spin and lose everything; an idiotic player can bumble his way to big money with luck on his side.

Another chance to get it right.

I always say I love the world of academia because you always have another chance to start over. As a teacher, if this period seems to be going badly, 53 minutes later, you get to start over. If today isn't working out, tomorrow's a new day! If the kids are making you crazy this month, Spring Break is just around the corner and you get to start fresh after that. And then there is the do-over at the end of the quarter, the semester, and finally... the new school year. In some ways, the "New Year" is like that for everyone... Oprah Winfrey said, “Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.” I'll drink to that!

A little more of the same.

Resolutions... when I think about making them, I feel a sudden wave of practicality wash over me, and I think, "why rack my brains for a few MORE things to beat myself up over not doing?" If there is one thing I'm really good at, it's hammering myself for doing too much of this and not enough of that. So isn't manufacturing impossible expectations of myself that will glare at me for a year (A WHOLE YEAR?!) a little more of the same?