What a long week. I feel like this week in particular dragged on; but the odd thing is, I felt God's embrace around me throughout the entire time. Like there was a warmth surrounding me, a tightness of someone's arm around my shoulders, just pushing my body through the next thing on my checklist.
I never had a close relationship with my grandmother. We lived so far away from each other so it made it difficult. So when she passed away last Sunday my head and my heart began a civil war within my body, that I feel only God's embrace has started to remedy. I wasn't sure how to feel. She's my first grandparent to pass away but she was also 92 years old. I should be so lucky to live that long. I thought about the opportunities I passed up to spend time with her, or write her or call her. I thought of how often I had figured I had so much time...not sure where I thought that "time" was coming from a woman who was 92. I guess I just didn't know. I mean, who does, really? So many things I didn't know and don't know, including how to react or grieve. It's a new process for me and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be doing it.
But these are the things I do know:
1- She was a die hard USC fan, loved anything Irish and I probably got not only my stubbornness, but my passion for Ireland from her. She always had to have bright red nails and lipstick; had closets upon closets of stuff (including menorah candles) for "just in case" purposes (Depression baby). She loved children and loved teaching and was a very devote Catholic.
2- She loved me. As much as I couldn't truly wrap my mind around that fact, she loved me very deeply. I could hear it in her voice every time she called; I could sense the pain her heart felt, knowing she'd never really be close to me. I know she loved me very much and I am just now realizing how much.
3- God loved her. God loves us all. OK, duh. But even throughout my reservations (for various reasons) to be close to her, God was. He loved her very much and for that reason I am writing my entry today.
I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I mourn my own selfishness. I mourn the loss of my grandmother for my grandfather, who is left behind; for my mother, who is there watching grandfather struggle; and for my aunt and uncle who are mourning in their own ways. I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I think about all that could have been. And I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I couldn't see her the way God did.
Lent has only begun and I have decided to change my promise. In light of the little Irish lady, I called "Grammie", I pray that I treat people with the love God does and see them as He does. Because at the end of the day, God doesn't care about USC, bright red nails or closets of clothes; He cares about the relationships we're building and how we're choosing to show His love through our actions. I miss her. It's an odd feeling, but while I'm teaching specifically, I feel her. I feel her looking down on me, giggling at my students when they say something silly or smiling at me as I make her proud working with a population she loved so much. I feel closer to her now than I ever did before. And now I'm trying to love her the way God does; without reservation and without judgment.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
You Can't Worry and Worship at the Same Time
Matthew 6:24-34 "Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself."
Went to Mass today. My good friend and I made a point to make this our "date" for the day. Today's gospel and homily couldn't have been more on point for where I am at in my life. Life isn't slow and it certainly isn't boring. I feel like I am in a constant state of exhaustion with a laundry list of things still "to do" but today's homily helped me to put things in perspective.
Fr. Pat began by saying that the gospel isn't saying, "let go of your fears and don't worry, be happy. Because that's unrealistic, that's not helpful. When someone is in true distress, telling them not to worry is not helpful to the situation. What the gospel is saying is that while you are worrying, you're number one priority isn't God, it's your worry. You cannot worship and worry at the same time because what becomes number one? Your worry."
He went on about opening ourselves up to God and His abilities to see us through and to pray for help conquer our worries. He shared a story about when he opened the door for an old lady and she was so profoundly grateful that it made him wonder, "what does she have going on in her life that this simple act meant so much to her?" He called that a set up for a blessing.
This made me wonder; how many times have I been set up for a blessing and missed it? How many times have the opportunities to love or care for another whizzed past me? OR how many times have I been a blessing and not recognized it? I thought of two weeks ago, after I had a parent/teacher conference with a group of parents. Two parents lingered until everyone left and started talking to me about their son. After discussing his progress and how much I enjoyed him in the class. The dad off handedly said, "these kids are lucky to have you." And before I could respond, the mom said, "that is for certain, our son has changed so much..." then she started crying, "it's a different kid. It's just a happier, different kid. Thank you."
You never know who considers you a blessing or where a blessing will come from. We all have worries, we all have troubles and trials and tribulations BUT, by dwelling in the worry, God slips to number two on our priority list and blessings just whiz past us.
Fr. Pat ended the homily with a helpful suggestion: instead of giving up coffee or ice cream for Lent, think about your goal for the end of Lent. What do you want to accomplish? By setting a target or goal for Lent, you will probably be more success in keeping and maintaining that trait or sacrifice you are attempting to accomplish.
This year, for Lent, I want to go to Mass every Sunday with the goal being to breathe new life into my spiritual life. I want to go to confession (same goal as listed above). I want to run three times a week with the goal being for me to be a healthier and happier individual. And lastly, I want to be the set up for blessings every day (goal - to remember what true love really is: it's compassion and selfless giving).
The readings for today were a slam dunk and if you take anything away from my blog today, I hope that it is two fold: 1) You cannot worship and worry at the same time 2) You never know how or when you are the set up for a blessing for someone else.
Went to Mass today. My good friend and I made a point to make this our "date" for the day. Today's gospel and homily couldn't have been more on point for where I am at in my life. Life isn't slow and it certainly isn't boring. I feel like I am in a constant state of exhaustion with a laundry list of things still "to do" but today's homily helped me to put things in perspective.
Fr. Pat began by saying that the gospel isn't saying, "let go of your fears and don't worry, be happy. Because that's unrealistic, that's not helpful. When someone is in true distress, telling them not to worry is not helpful to the situation. What the gospel is saying is that while you are worrying, you're number one priority isn't God, it's your worry. You cannot worship and worry at the same time because what becomes number one? Your worry."
He went on about opening ourselves up to God and His abilities to see us through and to pray for help conquer our worries. He shared a story about when he opened the door for an old lady and she was so profoundly grateful that it made him wonder, "what does she have going on in her life that this simple act meant so much to her?" He called that a set up for a blessing.
This made me wonder; how many times have I been set up for a blessing and missed it? How many times have the opportunities to love or care for another whizzed past me? OR how many times have I been a blessing and not recognized it? I thought of two weeks ago, after I had a parent/teacher conference with a group of parents. Two parents lingered until everyone left and started talking to me about their son. After discussing his progress and how much I enjoyed him in the class. The dad off handedly said, "these kids are lucky to have you." And before I could respond, the mom said, "that is for certain, our son has changed so much..." then she started crying, "it's a different kid. It's just a happier, different kid. Thank you."
You never know who considers you a blessing or where a blessing will come from. We all have worries, we all have troubles and trials and tribulations BUT, by dwelling in the worry, God slips to number two on our priority list and blessings just whiz past us.
Fr. Pat ended the homily with a helpful suggestion: instead of giving up coffee or ice cream for Lent, think about your goal for the end of Lent. What do you want to accomplish? By setting a target or goal for Lent, you will probably be more success in keeping and maintaining that trait or sacrifice you are attempting to accomplish.
This year, for Lent, I want to go to Mass every Sunday with the goal being to breathe new life into my spiritual life. I want to go to confession (same goal as listed above). I want to run three times a week with the goal being for me to be a healthier and happier individual. And lastly, I want to be the set up for blessings every day (goal - to remember what true love really is: it's compassion and selfless giving).
The readings for today were a slam dunk and if you take anything away from my blog today, I hope that it is two fold: 1) You cannot worship and worry at the same time 2) You never know how or when you are the set up for a blessing for someone else.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
'Twas the Night Before the Super Bowl
I prepared a little Super Bowl snack for Seattle fans out there:
‘Twas the night before the Super Bowl, somewhere near the Meadowlands,
Seahawk fans were praying for Wilson to get it to Tate or Lynch’s hands.
12th Men were nestled all snug in the sack,
With visions of the first NFL Six-Pack;
Skittles and Gushers were plenty and there weren’t any tears,
So I drifted off to sleep without any fears;
When at the stadium there arose some strange clatter,
Broncos fans feared, “what was the matter?”;
We heard “Beast Mode” and we heard “LOB,”
We jumped from our beds, and what did we see?
He stood at the end zone, ready for a pick,
Broncos fans looked like they were going to be sick;
Then in an instant, not to our surprise,
This Stanford grad got a glint in his eyes;
He followed his route and jumped into the air,
Watching Manning’s choice and his selective stare;
Then over the airwaves came decibels never heard before,
The ground started to rumble, and the crowd wanted more;
Two teams engaged in such a great battle,
but the 12th man could be felt all the way from Seattle;
Through the polar vortex, the sleet and the snow,
A 13-3 record made them ready to go;
So bring on John Elway and his herd of horses;
They’ll remember the day they were defeated by the ‘Hawks’ forces.
Seahawk fans were praying for Wilson to get it to Tate or Lynch’s hands.
12th Men were nestled all snug in the sack,
With visions of the first NFL Six-Pack;
Skittles and Gushers were plenty and there weren’t any tears,
So I drifted off to sleep without any fears;
When at the stadium there arose some strange clatter,
Broncos fans feared, “what was the matter?”;
We heard “Beast Mode” and we heard “LOB,”
We jumped from our beds, and what did we see?
He stood at the end zone, ready for a pick,
Broncos fans looked like they were going to be sick;
Then in an instant, not to our surprise,
This Stanford grad got a glint in his eyes;
He followed his route and jumped into the air,
Watching Manning’s choice and his selective stare;
Then over the airwaves came decibels never heard before,
The ground started to rumble, and the crowd wanted more;
Two teams engaged in such a great battle,
but the 12th man could be felt all the way from Seattle;
Through the polar vortex, the sleet and the snow,
A 13-3 record made them ready to go;
So bring on John Elway and his herd of horses;
They’ll remember the day they were defeated by the ‘Hawks’ forces.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
The Silent Walk Home
I am so fortunate that I get to walk home every day. I get to stroll to and from work and along the way, I get to pass by all sorts of interesting things like the garbage man, the postal worker who always says, "hello, you getting your mail alright?" dogs, rats, icy spots, parents walking their kids to school and of course, parents walking their kids home from school.
Now, I always preface everything that has to do with children with this: I am merely a teacher and have never been a parent; I do not know the stresses or joys of parenthood and therefore cannot judge the parenting skills of others. With that said, throughout my years of walking, I have noticed that the walk home between parent and child has fallen silent. Not only are parents walking yards away, with their 7-year-old trailing behind, jumping out of trees or running into garbage cans, but they aren't talking.
This discovery is sad for two reasons, 1) As a teacher, I have learned so much from my students. They seem to have an honesty and simplicity that makes life appear clearer. 2) Children are crying out for love and attention. The love and attention a simple conversation provides the backdrop for so much in their lives.
The equation for parenting isn't easy and certainly isn't going to be found in the annex of my blog, but as someone who is around children 40 hours a week, I believe talking to your children is a big part of that equation for success.
I went surfing the web only to find that:
It's a known fact that with meaningful conversations with parents, children grow up knowing how to converse with their peers, co-workers, bosses and friends. They are more likely to go to college, have healthy romantic relationships and have a better quality of life. I know it's hard to fit in or even listen to a 4-year-old carry on and on and on about the new Cars movie or how Cinderella is the best princess because she has the best dress; but it's sooo incredibly important to invest in their thoughts and ideas early so they have a wonderful idea of their own self-worth.
There are a few things I do to keep me sane while I listen to their frazzled thoughts, that also help promote their growth:
* Stimulate children's curiosity and interest by asking lots of why and how questions. This helps children learn to verbalize their thoughts and feelings.
* Allow children to talk about themselves and what they like to do, their feelings and concerns, and how they feel about themselves. This will help to build an environment of trust and acceptance.
*Stop and listen. Don't just go "a-huh" or "yeah", actually listen and respond with recalling another time they shared a similar story or a book/movie you read together...help them make connections.
Again, I do not know anything about parenting but I know that only talking to your child for 6 minutes a day isn't a positive way to form a loving, giving, thoughtful and stimulating relationship with your child. All I'm saying is I wish more families I see on my walk home weren't so silent.
Now, I always preface everything that has to do with children with this: I am merely a teacher and have never been a parent; I do not know the stresses or joys of parenthood and therefore cannot judge the parenting skills of others. With that said, throughout my years of walking, I have noticed that the walk home between parent and child has fallen silent. Not only are parents walking yards away, with their 7-year-old trailing behind, jumping out of trees or running into garbage cans, but they aren't talking.
This discovery is sad for two reasons, 1) As a teacher, I have learned so much from my students. They seem to have an honesty and simplicity that makes life appear clearer. 2) Children are crying out for love and attention. The love and attention a simple conversation provides the backdrop for so much in their lives.
The equation for parenting isn't easy and certainly isn't going to be found in the annex of my blog, but as someone who is around children 40 hours a week, I believe talking to your children is a big part of that equation for success.
I went surfing the web only to find that:
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
The
average parent spends 38.5 minutes per week in meaningful conversation
with their children. (A.C. Nielsen Co.) - See more at:
http://dinnertrade.com/568/interesting-statistics-on-family-dinners#sthash.EpmP9ktC.dpuf
"The average American parent spends 38.5 minutes having meaningful conversations with their children a week" (A.C. Nielson Co.)...friends, this is a little over 6 minutes a day. WHAT?!?!?! I think I take 6 minutes to wash my face and brush my teeth each morning! And my walk home is only 12 minutes long.It's a known fact that with meaningful conversations with parents, children grow up knowing how to converse with their peers, co-workers, bosses and friends. They are more likely to go to college, have healthy romantic relationships and have a better quality of life. I know it's hard to fit in or even listen to a 4-year-old carry on and on and on about the new Cars movie or how Cinderella is the best princess because she has the best dress; but it's sooo incredibly important to invest in their thoughts and ideas early so they have a wonderful idea of their own self-worth.
There are a few things I do to keep me sane while I listen to their frazzled thoughts, that also help promote their growth:
* Stimulate children's curiosity and interest by asking lots of why and how questions. This helps children learn to verbalize their thoughts and feelings.
* Allow children to talk about themselves and what they like to do, their feelings and concerns, and how they feel about themselves. This will help to build an environment of trust and acceptance.
*Stop and listen. Don't just go "a-huh" or "yeah", actually listen and respond with recalling another time they shared a similar story or a book/movie you read together...help them make connections.
Again, I do not know anything about parenting but I know that only talking to your child for 6 minutes a day isn't a positive way to form a loving, giving, thoughtful and stimulating relationship with your child. All I'm saying is I wish more families I see on my walk home weren't so silent.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Relating to Sally
Went to Mass today as part of my new 2014 commitment to bettering myself. I hadn't been to Mass in DC in a while so going back to the church that helped me through my second year of JVC left me a little anxious. When walking into the church, I was greeted by two kind ushers, smiling and welcoming me in and as I looked to the front of the church, there they were...the St. Augustine's Gospel choir. To top it off, Fr. Paul was announced as the celebrant for Mass. It was as if God knew that I needed a huge dose of spiritual awakening today.
As Fr. Paul read the Gospel (a Gospel reading we all know well, Matthew 3: 13-17) about John the Baptist baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, I thought, "alright, how is he going to spice this up with a message I haven't heard before?"
Well, he did. And the message was simple enough: "God loves you."
Fr. Paul spoke about how God's beaming down over John the Baptist and Jesus and saying, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;” was God's proud Papa moment. Fr. Paul said, "I can just imagine God handing out cigars in heaven like a proud father. But the best part about this story is that God looks at each of us that way too."
Fr. Paul recalled his first year as a priest in Philadelphia and a confession he heard from a woman named Sally. She was a prostitute and did drugs. She had her profession to pay for her drug habit and as she confessed this to Fr. Paul he said he remembered thinking, "gosh, what in the world am I going to say to this woman? What could I possibly say to ease her pain?" And then it hit him - Matthew 3:17. Fr. Paul said to Sally, "Sally, I want you to say this ten times. I want you to say, 'This is my beloved daughter, with whom I am well pleased."
After about a minute of silence, he thought she had left without saying anything else to him so he said, "hello? Sally? Did you hear me?" He heard Sally take a deep breath in and say, through her quiet weeping, "but He knows what I do. He knows who I am. How could God ever think that of me?"
Fr. Paul said, "God doesn't love what you do, He loves who you are. You are His daughter and He is happy you are home."
At this point, I started to cry in my pew. I was Sally. Sure, not a prostitute, and definitely not doing drugs; but I have skeletons, we all do and this sermon, this homily, showed me it was OK to come home because God is so very pleased with me and no matter what I am His daughter...no matter how long I go without going to church or how many skeletons I hide away, I am still His daughter.
Fr. Paul concluded the entire homily with: "As often as I preach on God's love and insist that God loves you, so many don't believe it. So many think that whatever they've done is more powerful than the love God has for them. This just isn't true. God wants you to be home and the devil's only job is to keep you from home...to keep God's love hidden from you. Don't be a stranger, don't let the devil win; because you are God's daughter, you are God's son, with whom He is well pleased."
Fr. Paul records all of his homilies - here is a link below - this most recent one isn't posted yet:
http://friarpaul.podbean.com/
As Fr. Paul read the Gospel (a Gospel reading we all know well, Matthew 3: 13-17) about John the Baptist baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, I thought, "alright, how is he going to spice this up with a message I haven't heard before?"
Well, he did. And the message was simple enough: "God loves you."
Fr. Paul spoke about how God's beaming down over John the Baptist and Jesus and saying, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;” was God's proud Papa moment. Fr. Paul said, "I can just imagine God handing out cigars in heaven like a proud father. But the best part about this story is that God looks at each of us that way too."
Fr. Paul recalled his first year as a priest in Philadelphia and a confession he heard from a woman named Sally. She was a prostitute and did drugs. She had her profession to pay for her drug habit and as she confessed this to Fr. Paul he said he remembered thinking, "gosh, what in the world am I going to say to this woman? What could I possibly say to ease her pain?" And then it hit him - Matthew 3:17. Fr. Paul said to Sally, "Sally, I want you to say this ten times. I want you to say, 'This is my beloved daughter, with whom I am well pleased."
After about a minute of silence, he thought she had left without saying anything else to him so he said, "hello? Sally? Did you hear me?" He heard Sally take a deep breath in and say, through her quiet weeping, "but He knows what I do. He knows who I am. How could God ever think that of me?"
Fr. Paul said, "God doesn't love what you do, He loves who you are. You are His daughter and He is happy you are home."
At this point, I started to cry in my pew. I was Sally. Sure, not a prostitute, and definitely not doing drugs; but I have skeletons, we all do and this sermon, this homily, showed me it was OK to come home because God is so very pleased with me and no matter what I am His daughter...no matter how long I go without going to church or how many skeletons I hide away, I am still His daughter.
Fr. Paul concluded the entire homily with: "As often as I preach on God's love and insist that God loves you, so many don't believe it. So many think that whatever they've done is more powerful than the love God has for them. This just isn't true. God wants you to be home and the devil's only job is to keep you from home...to keep God's love hidden from you. Don't be a stranger, don't let the devil win; because you are God's daughter, you are God's son, with whom He is well pleased."
Fr. Paul records all of his homilies - here is a link below - this most recent one isn't posted yet:
http://friarpaul.podbean.com/
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
26 in 2014
Merely three days back on the east coast and you know what I've noticed? Although the temperatures are comparable to those in Boise, it seems colder here. Although there is a stronger windchill and definitely more snow in Boise, it seems more frigid here. My heart and soul were warmer in Boise.
Although Boise certainly isn't my home, my parents are. This most recent visit has solidified that thought for me. My brother told me on the phone tonight that he sits back and watches me interact with others and thinks, "man, what an empowered, loving and giving woman she is." I am staunchly independent, incredibly playful, compassionate to a fault, painfully stubborn and eager to learn, but my parents, well, my parents are my heartbeat. Their words, their passion, their love and their zest for life runs through my veins. In fact, it seems unfair for me to even take a shred of credit for the person they have created and fostered.
In the two weeks I was home, I tried to soak it all in. Soak in their wisdom, their silliness, their strength, their oddities, their love and like a well written book, I was left wanting more.
I am very blessed. I am an incredibly blessed woman because I have such a unique and open relationship with my parents. I spent New Years Eve with them, eating fondue, drinking Sam Adams' finest and gobbling up left over pumpkin pie. We rang in the New Year and at 12:05am, promptly went to bed. I wouldn't have changed a thing.
During my two weeks "home", my parents and I had some of the most fruitful conversations and some of the most silly (a-hem Scarlet Fever a-hem) conversations of my life. At the end of those two weeks, after three days back, I feel that my desires as a 26-year-old seems to boil down to this:
1) Love. I want strong, supportive, loving and heart-warming relationships in my life. I don't want to half-ass anyone. I want those that I love to know that I love them and why.
2) Joy. Like pee-your-pants, over-the-moon, smile uncontrollably, joy. Nothing thaws a winter storm faster than a group of people basking in each other's joy.
3) Taking advantage. When opportunities arise, coin the phrase, "there's no time like the present." On the grand scale, I am going to Europe this summer. On the small scale, I am writing a postcard to a friend every week. I want to build on my joy and love I have in my life so I need to take advantage of the wonderful people God has gifted me in my life. OR when someone calls, I no longer hit the "ignore" button. Taking advantage of opportunities, joy and love and seeking those opportunities are my major action step as a 26-year-old.
4) Embracing myself. God made me; He gifted me with my parents to raise me into this woman I am. Who I am to throw it away or hide it. I wear onsies, I love Jeopardy and shoes with good arch support, I am engrossed by puzzles, love the smell of rain, love children's movies and trashy TV and Top 40 music; I cry in every movie, sing flat most of the time, think my voice is too nasally and I bite my nails. But I love people; I believe in people and I believe that we all belong to each other...26 is about embracing all of that.
26 in 2014 is about thawing my heart when it's away from my home. 26 in 2014 is about loving joy and living to the fullest while embracing every imperfection, because at this point, let's face it, am I going to change that much? 26 in 2014 is about being grateful. Grateful to God, grateful to friends and most importantly, grateful to the two human beings that I had the privilege of bringing in 2014 with. I feel it in my bones. It's time. Things are beginning to thaw out, out east.
Although Boise certainly isn't my home, my parents are. This most recent visit has solidified that thought for me. My brother told me on the phone tonight that he sits back and watches me interact with others and thinks, "man, what an empowered, loving and giving woman she is." I am staunchly independent, incredibly playful, compassionate to a fault, painfully stubborn and eager to learn, but my parents, well, my parents are my heartbeat. Their words, their passion, their love and their zest for life runs through my veins. In fact, it seems unfair for me to even take a shred of credit for the person they have created and fostered.
In the two weeks I was home, I tried to soak it all in. Soak in their wisdom, their silliness, their strength, their oddities, their love and like a well written book, I was left wanting more.
I am very blessed. I am an incredibly blessed woman because I have such a unique and open relationship with my parents. I spent New Years Eve with them, eating fondue, drinking Sam Adams' finest and gobbling up left over pumpkin pie. We rang in the New Year and at 12:05am, promptly went to bed. I wouldn't have changed a thing.
During my two weeks "home", my parents and I had some of the most fruitful conversations and some of the most silly (a-hem Scarlet Fever a-hem) conversations of my life. At the end of those two weeks, after three days back, I feel that my desires as a 26-year-old seems to boil down to this:
1) Love. I want strong, supportive, loving and heart-warming relationships in my life. I don't want to half-ass anyone. I want those that I love to know that I love them and why.
2) Joy. Like pee-your-pants, over-the-moon, smile uncontrollably, joy. Nothing thaws a winter storm faster than a group of people basking in each other's joy.
3) Taking advantage. When opportunities arise, coin the phrase, "there's no time like the present." On the grand scale, I am going to Europe this summer. On the small scale, I am writing a postcard to a friend every week. I want to build on my joy and love I have in my life so I need to take advantage of the wonderful people God has gifted me in my life. OR when someone calls, I no longer hit the "ignore" button. Taking advantage of opportunities, joy and love and seeking those opportunities are my major action step as a 26-year-old.
4) Embracing myself. God made me; He gifted me with my parents to raise me into this woman I am. Who I am to throw it away or hide it. I wear onsies, I love Jeopardy and shoes with good arch support, I am engrossed by puzzles, love the smell of rain, love children's movies and trashy TV and Top 40 music; I cry in every movie, sing flat most of the time, think my voice is too nasally and I bite my nails. But I love people; I believe in people and I believe that we all belong to each other...26 is about embracing all of that.
26 in 2014 is about thawing my heart when it's away from my home. 26 in 2014 is about loving joy and living to the fullest while embracing every imperfection, because at this point, let's face it, am I going to change that much? 26 in 2014 is about being grateful. Grateful to God, grateful to friends and most importantly, grateful to the two human beings that I had the privilege of bringing in 2014 with. I feel it in my bones. It's time. Things are beginning to thaw out, out east.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Week 8: The Pre-K Diaries
Well, I've made it through eight whole weeks of Pre-K. Although there was
apprehension, fear, excitement and a dash of doubt, I have survived the
first five weeks of school and more importantly, so have my students.
I have an interesting band of 17 misfits with big personalities and even bigger needs. It's definitely been a challenge to learn what motivates them and what manipulation techniques I can use to persuade them to follow the rules or "make good choices" as we say in my classroom.
With that said, here are the top ten Pre-K moments so far with my band of misfits:
10. Reminding me that They are Little People Still Learning Right From Wrong: Don't know why this is number 10, but yesterday a student went into the bathroom and after I shut the curtain behind him (not more than two minutes) I heard a huge crash in the bathroom...he broke something...well, it turns out he pushed the cover off of the toilet lid and it smashed to the ground. Not sure how he lifted it or why he did it but when I asked him if it was a good choice, he didn't know. Needless to say, now he doesn't get the curtain shut behind him anymore and the toilet has a cardboard box over the tank.
9. Their Sense of Justice: Since day one, I have repeated the line: "Pre-K is fair" to my students with the hopes that they'll gain a better understanding of sharing. Well, this week,one of my students with an IEP (specialized plan for children with special needs) was watching as another student run up to the schedule and tear off the arrow pointing to where we were in the schedule. B was so appalled by this action, apparently, that he got up from the carpet, took the arrow from the other student saying, "No, N, that's not OK. You're not making good choices" and he put the arrow back on the schedule. I didn't have to say anything...B felt a sense of injustice and wanted to right the wrong.
8. Creativity: during an assessment, one of the questions is - does he/she know his/her full name? I asked one little girl what her name was and she said, "Claire". Then I asked, "Claire? What? What's your last name?" She stopped, thought for a second and smiled brightly while screaming, "Claire Polka Dot!"
7. Their Grasp on Reality: I took my students on a listening walk but before we went, I asked them, "what do you think we'll hear on our listening walk?" Their answers go as follows: -a firetruck -a car -a dog -a plane -a tractor trailer and my favorite, a princess turning strawberries into frogs. I love that in my job description, I am not allowed to correct them, this was a brainstorming activity and you never know, we might've heard a princess turning strawberries into frogs on our listening walk.
6. The Innocence of their Thoughts: It's inevitable that a handful of my students are going to be listening to the same music as I. I recently heard a few students singing Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" which is 100% about sex. My students kept repeating the same lyric over and over: "I know you want it. I know you want it." So I finally asked them, "What do you think he wants?" and without a beat they responded, "I don't know, a cookie?"
5. Their Emotions: The emotions they have are so pure and raw and honest that it's beautiful. When they give you a hug, it's the best hug you've ever gotten. Yesterday a student was very sad after his mom left and my youngest student turned to him and said, "it's OK, mommies always come back" as she rubbed his back.
4. Their Ability to Roll With the Punches: We were reading Caps for Sale and it was my third read through and by this point they knew most of the words in the story because a few lines repeats over and over again. I read one of these repetitious lines, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 cents a cap!" and they read it with me. When it came time for the line again they anxiously yelled, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 dollars a cap!" I stopped, and smiled in disbelief and said, "wait, wait, wait, is this because of inflation?" And they screamed, "yes, caps are expensive!"
3. Their Ideas of beauty: while playing beauty parlor with my hair, they have pulled out probably half of my scalp...but as they constantly tell me, "it's all to make you more beautiful" and then one little girl screams, "we need more grease!" Still trying to figure this one out.
2. Discovering Little Boys' Problems with Being Easily Distracted: I learned very quickly that when a little boy is using the bathroom, that is the WORST time to say his name (unless, of course, you don't mind cleaning up urine off the floor, toilet seat, walls, step stool, his clothing and yours as well).
1. Potty Humor: I had a little boy who went #2 on the toilet and as I popped my head in to see if he was OK and asked, "hey, man is everything alright in here?" He lit up, hopped down from the toilet, turned around and bent over (spreading his cheeks wide open in front of me). I looked at his bum and then him and said, "you can wipe. Ms. Katie doesn't wipe" and walked away.
I have an interesting band of 17 misfits with big personalities and even bigger needs. It's definitely been a challenge to learn what motivates them and what manipulation techniques I can use to persuade them to follow the rules or "make good choices" as we say in my classroom.
With that said, here are the top ten Pre-K moments so far with my band of misfits:
10. Reminding me that They are Little People Still Learning Right From Wrong: Don't know why this is number 10, but yesterday a student went into the bathroom and after I shut the curtain behind him (not more than two minutes) I heard a huge crash in the bathroom...he broke something...well, it turns out he pushed the cover off of the toilet lid and it smashed to the ground. Not sure how he lifted it or why he did it but when I asked him if it was a good choice, he didn't know. Needless to say, now he doesn't get the curtain shut behind him anymore and the toilet has a cardboard box over the tank.
9. Their Sense of Justice: Since day one, I have repeated the line: "Pre-K is fair" to my students with the hopes that they'll gain a better understanding of sharing. Well, this week,one of my students with an IEP (specialized plan for children with special needs) was watching as another student run up to the schedule and tear off the arrow pointing to where we were in the schedule. B was so appalled by this action, apparently, that he got up from the carpet, took the arrow from the other student saying, "No, N, that's not OK. You're not making good choices" and he put the arrow back on the schedule. I didn't have to say anything...B felt a sense of injustice and wanted to right the wrong.
8. Creativity: during an assessment, one of the questions is - does he/she know his/her full name? I asked one little girl what her name was and she said, "Claire". Then I asked, "Claire? What? What's your last name?" She stopped, thought for a second and smiled brightly while screaming, "Claire Polka Dot!"
7. Their Grasp on Reality: I took my students on a listening walk but before we went, I asked them, "what do you think we'll hear on our listening walk?" Their answers go as follows: -a firetruck -a car -a dog -a plane -a tractor trailer and my favorite, a princess turning strawberries into frogs. I love that in my job description, I am not allowed to correct them, this was a brainstorming activity and you never know, we might've heard a princess turning strawberries into frogs on our listening walk.
6. The Innocence of their Thoughts: It's inevitable that a handful of my students are going to be listening to the same music as I. I recently heard a few students singing Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" which is 100% about sex. My students kept repeating the same lyric over and over: "I know you want it. I know you want it." So I finally asked them, "What do you think he wants?" and without a beat they responded, "I don't know, a cookie?"
5. Their Emotions: The emotions they have are so pure and raw and honest that it's beautiful. When they give you a hug, it's the best hug you've ever gotten. Yesterday a student was very sad after his mom left and my youngest student turned to him and said, "it's OK, mommies always come back" as she rubbed his back.
4. Their Ability to Roll With the Punches: We were reading Caps for Sale and it was my third read through and by this point they knew most of the words in the story because a few lines repeats over and over again. I read one of these repetitious lines, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 cents a cap!" and they read it with me. When it came time for the line again they anxiously yelled, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 dollars a cap!" I stopped, and smiled in disbelief and said, "wait, wait, wait, is this because of inflation?" And they screamed, "yes, caps are expensive!"
3. Their Ideas of beauty: while playing beauty parlor with my hair, they have pulled out probably half of my scalp...but as they constantly tell me, "it's all to make you more beautiful" and then one little girl screams, "we need more grease!" Still trying to figure this one out.
2. Discovering Little Boys' Problems with Being Easily Distracted: I learned very quickly that when a little boy is using the bathroom, that is the WORST time to say his name (unless, of course, you don't mind cleaning up urine off the floor, toilet seat, walls, step stool, his clothing and yours as well).
1. Potty Humor: I had a little boy who went #2 on the toilet and as I popped my head in to see if he was OK and asked, "hey, man is everything alright in here?" He lit up, hopped down from the toilet, turned around and bent over (spreading his cheeks wide open in front of me). I looked at his bum and then him and said, "you can wipe. Ms. Katie doesn't wipe" and walked away.
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