Is is Friday Yet?

There's nothing that makes me appreciate my kids like other kids. In addition to my 4th graders (holy god they're 4th graders already!!) this year I also have a few 5th graders. I've been with my kids for 2 full years now. They know all of my quirks and I know all of theirs. I know that Dennis the Menace occasionally emits weird noises during homework time. I know that The Hugger will hang all over me until I tell her that her friends must miss her. I know that The Biter (oh yes he's back again) sometimes has rough weeks where he does better helping with the little kids classes. The kids know that I can't stand having someone get in my line of sight when I'm reading. They know that I will ask them to line up before we leave a room so I don't lose anyone. They know that when I promise a prize at the end of the week I will pull through for them. It's taken the better part of two years for all of us to learn to trust each other. When my kids came back this year they came back with an extra 10 inches and some new sassy comebacks but they didn't lose that trust.

These 5th graders though...oh boy. I think they WANT to be a good class. I just think that they want to talk, run, scream, and hit a lot more. Homework "Hour" (I've been shortening it as much as I can because being trapped in a room with them gives me nightmares of being trapped in the hyena cage at the zoo) has become my steady monologue of:

"stop talking-find a seat-where are you sitting-is that really a good place for you to be-chairs on the ground please-hands to yourself-do you have math today- where's the hundreds place-I said chairs on the ground please- how on earth did you get that pencil in the ceiling like that-sorry now you don't have a pencil-no-come on buddy-I said find a seat-where's the thousands place- no it didn't move- hint it's next to the hundreds place- sit down please- no in a chair not on the floor- Hop on Pop is too easy for you- 5 minute warning- oh fuck it just go outside please- I said OUT!.

So Homework Hour has been more of Homework As Long As Nicole Can Stand It. The best part of it is that when the 5th graders are insane my 4th graders just stare at them with this look of horror on their faces. Then one of them usually says something like "uhmm Nicole doesn't really like it when you try to climb on the shelves." Or my favorite from today "Y'know if you'd just stop talking and finish your homework I bet you'd actually pass the 5th grade." Ouch...

I don't really have a solution for these kids so far. My current plan includes lots of class bonding and leadership activities. These 5th graders are at the point where they think they're too cool for everything. So far they've informed me that they're too cool for Harry Potter, Lemony Snickett, and every verbal or non-verbal way I have of getting their attention. No more 1, 2, 3 eyes on me/1, 2 eyes on you. No more slugs up for silence. I'm at a loss. All they like is Twilight and dodgeball. I refuse to do anything Twilight related because I'm a 23 year old woman and I am ashamed to carry that damn book around long enough to plan anything with it. Also dodgeball is the bane of my existence. So I suppose I have some soul searching to do.

I don't remember thinking I was cool in 5th grade. Maybe I have just always known that cool wouldn't be my thing. Maybe I saw into my future of marching band and theater pit early on. All I know is if someone had offered to do a whole unit on Harry Potter I would not have mocked.





*Sidenote: I have GOT to stop referring to my kids as MY kids. I was asked several times this summer how many kids I have and I usually get a really shocked look when I say twenty-nine. Not a mom guys. Just an exhausted educator.

Como se dice "victory" en espanol?

I bitch about my job and my kids a lot. I know this. The hours seem long, the kids can be frustrating, and situations can be less than ideal. The moments that I'm trying to reason with a terrified kinder or pry an over attached second grader off of me tend to stick better in my mind than the good moments. I've had a few really good moments in the last month or so that I'd like to share here.

Victory Numero Uno: In these last few weeks that my kids have homework I've taken to bribing them. Judge me all you want but I haven't found a single grey hair this spring. So deal. On Mondays I tell them if I'm still alive by the end of the week they score all 9/10 or 10/10 during homework hour all week then I will have a surprise for them on Friday. It's a lot to ask of them and they rarely get the prize. So a few weeks ago I realized that they had failed at it so many times that they didn't think I would follow through. Totally false. If I could I would buy them all ponies and unicorns just to get a few peaceful homework hours in.

I spent ALL WEEK forcing them to score 9/10. Every thirty seconds or so you'd hear me yell "Biter how's that math coming along? Dennis the Menace that doesn't look like homework to me- put it away! Thug One and Thug Two SEPARATE!" Maybe I stressed myself sick or maybe it's just because my hand sanitizer ran out but by Thursday I had the flu and called in a sub. I left strict instructions that the kids were to be on their best best best behavior so that I could get them a pizza party for Friday. Then I took my cough medicine and drifted off to quiet, calm, kid-dramaless sleep.

The next day I got to work and heard from my sub that my group of girls had been super loud during homework time. All my hard work for nothing! Also I had already bought the pizza damn it. I was all set to rant about how those kids spoil everything when the sub kept talking. Apparently my girls had been loud because they wanted to score a 8 or lower because they were worried that I was spending all my money on pizza for them. They didn't want me to have to waste my money.

This marks the first time in my two years with them that those girls have thought of anyone or anything before themselves. I LOVE that they're at the age where they're capable of that.


Victory Numero Dos: This is both a sad and happy one. I recently got a new third grader in my class. I'm going to call him Wild Thing here. Wild Thing's teacher personally warned me about his behavior. The kid is a tough cookie. He rarely tells the truth, rarely does what's asked of him, and rarely makes a connection with anyone. He came with a few of my boys as his close friends but even they were wary of him. I spend a full week battling with this little dude with no idea what was going on with him.

Let me preface this by saying that I had possibly one of the best childhoods possible. Sure it wasn't perfect but whose is? I had two parents who cared about me, grandparents/aunts/uncles/cousins who would have done anything for me, a place to call my own, a bed to myself, and I always knew that I would be cared for. There was never a doubt in my mind that I was loved. Add to that the fact that I grew up in a safe neighborhood 2 blocks from my elementary school where the greatest crime I had ever heard of was stealing roses from the house down the street and you'll see how great I had it.

Wild Thing clearly is not me. His childhood is not what mine was. Honestly it's a miracle he functions as well as he does. After learning a little bit about what this kid is like I've decided I really like him. He's smart and witty and he can definitely hold his own in a debate (trust me- I've lost a few to him).

Last week I did an activity with these awesome Cheez-Its that are shaped like scrabble tiles. We made scrabble boards and tried to hook all of our Cheez-Its together for points. It was an activity I was proud of and for the first time ever Wild Thing was excited about something. He was hooking words together faster than any other kid. He was even helping other kids after he had finished all of his crackers! I think the best part of it all was that the other kids recognized that Wild Thing was good at the activity and some of them were asking him for help when they may not have really needed it. Seems to me like they were trying to help him feel good about himself.

Victory Numero Tres: On Friday we had our Annual Family Potluck. We put up notices and sign up sheets over a week in advance and told the kids a gazillion times what a potluck is.

Kid: What's a potluck?
Staff: It's when everyone brings food to share and we all have a picnic.
Kid: Huh? What am I supposed to do?
Staff: Help your mom and dad remember to bring food.
Kid: Why?
Staff: Because we're having a potluck!
Kid: What's a potluck?
Staff: Go ask someone else.

So I knew that we were prepared for this thing but that didn't stop me from the usual night terrors. Maybe no one would show up? Maybe every single parent would bring pizza? (totally could have happened) Maybe our kids would be demons that day? (this one was most likely)

But on Friday everything went perfect. Most of the parents showed up, everyone brought food, and not all of it was pizza. My rice crispy treats disappeared quickly (I even had two of my boys politely ask me to snag two because they didn't want to cut in front of everyone but they were afraid they would run out before they got there). Best of all was the kids themselves. Even the ones whose parents weren't there were on their best behavior. For once no one pushed in line or fought over the last Capri- Sun. They even tried the healthy food! It was a miracle sent from childcare heaven.

So I'm challenging myself to forget more of the tough stuff and start remembering that my kids rock. They care about other people, they try to make others feel good about themselves, and they don't push in the potluck line. Does it get better than that?

Spring Break!

This is the one week in the spring that no one pulls on my sleeves, sneezes on me, or asks me to take them to the bathroom. I don't have to worry about whether or not the class plants have been watered or turn the water of my sink on every morning and off every evening because of the leak. Construction paper goes uncut (unwasted) and all the caps are on the gluesticks. Parts of me celebrate this week because I have all this free time. Until I think about it that is. Because when I think about it what am I going to do? So far I have made new nametags (for my kids desks), put construction paper backing on 27 watercolor paintings (for the wall of my classroom), and researched The Lorax (for a lesson plan). So much for a break.

My dear friend and ex-roommate Cassie visited me and my kids earlier this year and sent me a little something I'd like to share now. This is the best part of spring break. Not having to do this.

By the way there is zero exaggeration on Cassie's part. This is exactly how it goes down every single day. (Sidenote: Thanks Cassie!!)

Books Books Books

I've recently started my own mini library of books for my kids. It all started when one of my 3rd grade girls started reading aloud randomly from a 5th grade book about Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly. She stumbled over a few words but overall did really well. Our conversation that followed went something like this:

student: Who are them guys?
me: These guys. Who are these guys.
student: (sarcastically) Okok, who are these guys?
me: They're gangsters.
student: Gangsters? But where is their bling? Don't look gangster to me.
me: They're gangsters from a long time ago.
student: OGs?
me: Pardon?
student: Original Gangsters Ma, don't you know anything?

Apparently I don't know anything. At least I have 26 teachers right? Now, what I do know is that this was a 5th grade book and last year she was barely at a 1st grade reading level so I was pretty enthused that she was understanding what she was reading. So I, being a librarian at heart, struck up a conversation about books that she's read. Turns out no one has encouraged her to read chapter books at all. How is that even possible? I started reading chapter books in the 1st grade (granted I was an only child/nerd). Still, a 3rd grade girl being given books meant for 1st or 2nd graders when she's capable of reading at a 5th grade level just irks me. So that night I went to Borders and used my sweet educator discount to buy Little House in the Big Woods (my first chapter book), Matilda, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, Ramona Quimby- Age 8, The Witches, James and the Giant Peach, and The Twits. The next day I started a sign out sheet and there you go- a library. I have never seen such a stampede for anything. You would have thought Miley Cyrus was in those books.

The best part of the whole thing is that even though my kids are terrible at following any rules (ever) they're fantastic at returning books. They have the same fanatical respect for books as I did as a kid. My parents and grandparents started sharing their love for books with me before I can remember. My first steps were taken because I was trying to reach a book that my mom held just out of my grasp. I used to drive my poor dad insane because I wouldn't settle for just one reading of a book. I wanted it read a second, third, or even fourth time. Some of my most prized possessions were the books given to me. I would set all of my dolls up and play school. Each doll would be assigned different readings from my sign language book, my book about weather, my native american short stories book, and my ballet books . Yes, I was that nerdy.

Above all the most important person in my literary life was my Grandpa Keith. He started getting me into books by telling me the stories and getting me hooked. When Grandpa told a story it was impossible to give it up. Every summer that I visited he would take me to the used bookstore and I would leave with armfuls to books to last me until I came back. As I got into middle and high school I started suggesting books for him but he knew his books way better than I did. Not only did he read upwards of 4 books a week but he wrote too. He was always writing whether it was letters to the editor, a few papers about our family history, or even a book that about the history of his high school that was put in the public library. He was badass. When I would visit him he would always point out the library every time we drove by it. It was clearly the most important thing in town to him.

When Grandpa passed away this summer I was lucky enough to get to Washington the night before he went. On his nightstand next to his hospital bed he had a stack of books to return to me and a stack of books for me to start on. Even though he was sick and had other things to worry about he insisted on making sure I understood the symbolism in the last book I lent him and telling me just enough about Isabelle Allende that I would have to read her books. The man was a teacher through and through.

So when I got the chance to introduce chapter books to my kids I jumped at it. When you've been reading pictures books your whole life chapter books are really a whole new ball game. They'll teach patience and persistence- both things my kids could use a lot more of.

The thing that showed me this was working was yesterday when I had a girl come to me and ask if I have read The Fantastic Mr. Fox. I figured she was looking for a recommendation and I told her I haven't read it yet. Her response was "oh good! I have a copy here if you want to borrow it. It doesn't seem fair that I read all of your books but you don't read mine." My heart just about melted. I haven't had a book recommendation since Grandpa passed away and I've been a little bit lost as to how to get myself back into reading. This is the perfect way.

Totally kidding about Miley being in the books by the way. Even my kids think Miley is skanky.

The Perfect Storm

#1. For any other occupation a 3 day workweek is heaven. For mine it's a curse. The teachers NEVER give homework for a 3 day week. So my required homework hour consists of me making up busywork, chasing The Biter around the room, and checking the clock every 2 minutes.

#2. Today, there just happened to be a giant storm. I'm talking thunder, lightning, and power outage. The works.

#3. Today was also muffin day for snack. The muffins that they give us are the messiest most crumbly muffins I've ever seen. They're probably weeks old and stuffed with preservatives so we don't die from eating them.

Those three things are all you need for a hellish day. The kids were hyped up because of the rain. I had no less that ten kids tell me that there was an emergency weather broadcast on the television this weekend. Exciting stuff. We got to be outside for about an hour today which meant an hour of me chasing children away from Lake Del Mar, sorry, I mean the playground.

Around 3 pm the first thunder sounded and my kids flipped out. I always like how their initial response when scared is to run in circles and scream. I have no idea how humans have lasted this long if that's our main fallback for danger. I've given up on trying to round them up when they get all psycho. Now I just open the door to the classroom and they eventually sprint in at full speed.

Once inside the room I had them do our usual Community Circle (we sit in a circle and I try to think up ridiculous questions for discussion to calm them down). My thoughts during CC were as follows:
"Oh shit, we have no homework. We're going to be in here all afternoon. 3 hours with nothing to do. This is going to be one of those situations from some terrible kids movie from the mid 90's where the parents come home and the babysitter is tied to a chair and the kids are chasing the family poodle with a nerf gun. "
So I, being quite quick on my feet by now, came up with a lesson on lightning followed by an extended "Lightning Viewing" while we ate our incredibly messy and not nutritious snack. Of course the next hour was spent cleaning crumbs off of the floor because, as I have mentioned, we don't have a functioning vacuum. FML.

Then the power went out which caused more running in circles and screaming. So I lit our spiffy new power outage lantern and we all laid on the floor and drew pictures by lamplight. It was pretty adorable actually.

Sidenote: The only reason we have a power outage lantern is that a few months ago we lost power when it was pitch black outside and all we had in our emergency kits was 6 bandaids and a powerbar. Surprisingly not helpful. That night ended with me running through the rain with twenty terrified children attached to my legs trying to find a room with a flashlight. So yes, I demanded a lantern in my room.

Wouldn't want anyone to miss out on some of the sweet power outage drawings I received today!




Kevin's flower art is some of my favorite.



No idea what this monster is but it is clearly attacking some sort of castle.



Clouds? Smoke from the sun? Who knows.



This shark is awesome. No other comment.

Quick Rant

Anyone remember hama beads? Now, I don't remember calling them that when I was a kid (I'm pretty sure I referred to them as "those boring bead iron projects") but who could forget those tiny plastic beads that you put on the plastic grid and then take to your mom so she could iron them together for you? I didn't like them as a kid but let me just say that they are way way worse as an adult. First off, they take hours. Then, one tiny bump of the table and they're completely destroyed. The beads go everywhere, most of them never to be found again, and the kid is left nearly in tears. Even if the kid finishes it they still have to get it ironed. For my kids that involves a terrifying walk across our classroom to the iron. They walk super slowly and they never take their eyes off of their project. Unfortunately that means that they're never watching where they're going so usually they walk into chairs or desks or more often, a 5th grader. The tiny percentage of kids that make it through the gauntlet unscathed are rewarded with me as their iron-lady. Tough luck for them. I'm awful at ironing those damn beads together. My success rate is somewhere around 40%. Not great. Last week my little Dennis the Menace kid worked a solid hour making his hama bead star. He bravely made the classroom walk and what did I do? Destroyed his afternoons work. Those are the days I feel like I'm not making a positive difference in the world.

See, when I was a kid it never got to any of that. I usually gave up long before that point ever came. I would always start out trying to make a star or a heart. I had grand visions of starting a pattern in the center and following it all the way out. Usually I would make it about 3 layers before realizing that it wasn't going to work out layout-wise and I would jump ship. This left a bead filled table for my mom to clean up. Although, now I realize that she had it easy. At least she never had to iron any of them.

So last week, after I destroyed Dennis the Menace's artwork, I spent an hour rebuilding with him. When we finished I told him that it was the first hama bead project that I had ever finished. His response? "Wow, I have like, hundreds of these at home!" Awesome, kid. Really awesome.