'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.  

12^th 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 12^th 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.

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:

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.

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/

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.

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.  

Measuring Our Success

In my Pre-K classroom the measure of success isn't with the things one would usually expect. Yes, academics like knowing your letters, counting, knowing the shapes and colors are all very important but the thing that the parents ask for the most and the assessment that carries the most weight is the one measuring their child's level of personal/social interactions and empathy.

I made the silly mistake on my first home visit of being overly prepared to report to the parents all the letters and numbers their child knew and I even brought some example writing samples their child had done but the funny thing was when we started talking they didn't really care about the materials I had prepared. They wanted to know how their son was interacting with other children. And when it came time for them to make a "goal" for their child it wasn't for him to master writing his name or being able to read, but it was for him to make a friend and sympathize better with his peers.

That got me thinking, how do we get from those goals of empathizing with our peers to turning a blind eye to the needs of others. With the "recent" government shutdown, it's been a bit of a mess here in DC. Many are furloughed and many are in danger of not being able to pay their bills. I have friends who aren't getting paid but are still working and are nervous about how their rent will be paid.

Even though these realities exist it's amazing to me that there are people (a-hem, FOX news) that voice their opinions in between chuckles, "so a few tourists won't be able to see Statue of Liberty or the National Parks, this isn't a catastrophe like the democrats are trying to say it is."

To put some perspective on it, and to share an interesting fact; the District of Columbia has a budget controlled by the House. We have no "rainy day funds" or state funds backing us up. Meaning, this Tuesday will be the last time teachers in the public schools will be paid and charter schools (like mine) will lose funding on Oct. 25th. It appears that two sides are arguing and fighting over things that (in my opinion) seem minuscule compared to libraries, schools, trash companies, post offices and food inspection companies being shut down. The stubborn-ness and lack of compassion (and empathy) for those they are hurting is appalling.  So, I wonder, is it funny now? When does it become a catastrophe, my friends? When do citizens start to demand more and cry out in disgust and anger?

In my classroom if two students are arguing and can't come to a resolution we talk it through to see both sides until a resolution is met that both parties can deal with; and if that doesn't happen, they sit in time out. Does our government need a time out? Maybe equal treatment like their paychecks being withheld? Or maybe just a return to Pre-K so they can remember what we should be measuring success by: empathy.

All I Need is a Mix Tape

Call me a modern day woman or (more likely) correctly identifying my Love Language but I am struck by a song a just heard on the radio which prompted a conversation with my roommate about what I'd want from "my man".

I was listening to Bruno Mars' song, "If I was Your Man" and felt a little funny about it because the chorus goes: "Well, I should've bought you flowers and held your hand. Should've given you all my hours, when I had the chance. Taken you to every party, because I know how you like to dance."

Now, I'm not one to argue with the wisdom of pop music now-a-days (especially since the 2012 hit, "Instagram that Hoe" came out) BUT I do believe women are expecting more from their significant others than 1) flowers 2) hand holding and 3) dancing. I mean, are we that simple?

This conversation pushed my roommate to ask me, "well, Katie, if he was your man, what would he be singing?"

Never one to shy away from an interesting and slightly silly hypothetical, here is my answer:
If he was my man, he would ---- offer me an honest, loving relationship based on equality; give me hugs even when I'm PMS-ing, eating a pint of ice cream on the couch and have a nice dot-to-dot of zits on my chin; let me have time with my friends but smile when I text him periodically throughout the night; love watching football with me; put away my clean laundry for me out of the blue one day because he knows I hate doing it; ask me about my day; want to meet my family and friends and join in on their crazy banter; dance when he wants to; laugh when he can and cry when he feels like it; compete against me in trivia and not judge me when I know nothing about our country's history prior to 1942; let me take care of him and most importantly, make me a mix tape*.

Flowers can be bought at a store anywhere, heck even the street vender sells them right by my apartment and sure, diamonds are shiny but a mix tape, now there is something from the heart. Think about it, he picks songs specifically that remind him of you and the relationship you share. He's put in a few hours to pick which ones are perfect, sprinkling in a few silly songs like "Make Love in This Club" by Usher or "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" by Barry White and conclude the tape with the song that will surly epitomize your relationship together. It's that simple and dare I say it, that cheap. Just get me something thoughtful, something that means a lot to you and I'll be happy. That's the secret, that's the key...not dancing, not flowers, not hand holding; just a mix tape.

*To modernize it a bit, a mixed tape can be replaced with a compact disc. :)