Open Book

     This is not about testing, although I think that open book tests are pretty awesome.  This also isn't about the latest book that I have read, even though reading is one of my favorite things.  This is about me.  For the most part, I am an open book.  If it's happening in my life, I share it with people.  Sometimes with friends, sometimes with strangers, but I share my stories....even if they are lame. I always have.  I share about what is going on in my life because it's what I know.   

     When Jim was going through his cancer treatments and recovery, I was the one who gave updates.  He wasn't comfortable giving the information, but he was okay with me sharing the joys and concerns.  I am the one who is more vocal about the ups and downs of living as part of a three generation home.  I am also pretty vocal about the teen that living in our home. I tend to talk about her on a regular basis, sharing the parenting struggles that I have.  I share what is going on with me and my life because I don't want to keep things bottled up inside. 

     I don't know if being an open book is good or bad.  I guess that it would depend on your perspective.  I don't tend to keep things inside.  I don't want to keep my life secret, I believe in sharing.  I don't think that I have anything to say that hasn't already been said, but maybe I say it in a different way.  Maybe something that I share will help someone else who is on a similar path.  All the little things that I talk about are part of my story and who I am as a person.

     However, I have been told that I am guilty of over sharing.  D has asked that I not share so much about her and her activities.  That's going to be hard for me.  I love to talk about her accomplishments in life.  She feels that I am bragging.  I use my parenting struggles to encourage others along the way.  She feels that I am telling negative things about here.  I get it, being a teenager is tough enough.  without your mom telling everything there is to tell.  So I am going to attempt to stop over sharing stories about D.  If I write about her, I will make sure that she approves what I am going to say.  I think that is fair, not easy, but fair!

     Now I need to keep my book closed just a little bit more on certain parts of the story.  I have promised to keep D out of the spotlight a little more in sharing.  I haven't given Jim that same option though!  If you want to know what's going on, ask.  More than likely, I will share, but I might have to think about my audience first!

    

A Mom's Touch

     I know that I am not the only one...I posted on Facebook and several people agreed with me.  When we are sick, most of us want our moms.  Moms don't cure our sickness, but they provide the comfort that we all want when we are sick.  They have familiar remedies and routines for us when we are sick.  These remedies might not cure anything, but in most cases they provide a measure of comfort to us!

     Growing up, my mom made me drink hot tea, no matter what was wrong with me.  I still associate tea with being sick.  I can't stand regular tea, hot or cold.  I can drink herbal teas or specialty teas, but plain old Lipton tea, no thank you!  She also served me toast when I was sick, with butter, cinnamon, and sugar, cut into thirds.  I still love my toast that way, but I no longer need it in thirds, even when I am sick.  When I would vomit, she held my hair back so that I didn't get anything in it.  Mostly, it was just the thought that someone was near by in case I needed them.

     I spent two days last week sick in bed.  I had some sort of stomach virus that came on suddenly.  Luckily, Jim took over all my normal tasks and gave me the opportunity to stay in bed and recover. However, Jim is not the type who will hold my hair back when I puke.  He knows how I feel about plain tea, so he's never tried to bring me any.  Instead, he just quietly took over getting D to and from school, homework and bed time, along with dinner for the family.   He brought home Sprite and orange juice so that I can make my sick drink, nothing fancy, part Sprite, part orange juice.  I call it a shandy, not sure why, but that's what I call it.

     D has been battling allergies for over a week now.  Her seasonal allergies go crazy when the weather goes from cold to warm, but never really gets a good freeze.  Her issues are mostly just a low fever, coughing, and mucus...lots of mucus.  When she gets sick, I am pretty sure that she also wants her mom near.  I don't do much, hold her hair when she vomits, make her a shandy to drink, tuck her in bed, and listen to hear if she has any issues.  You know, the typical stuff that moms do when the kids are sick.  

     I don't wish sickness of any kind on anyone.  But if you are sick, I hope that you have someone who can provide that mother's comfort that we all want when we are sick.  Stay well!

Name One

     I am a product of the public school system, kindergarten through twelfth grade.  I have experienced public school as a student, as a classroom teacher, as a substitute teacher, and now as a parent and volunteer.  I believe in public schools and the people who dedicate themselves to working in the schools.  Most teachers, the really good ones, teach because it is their calling.  Teaching isn't just a job for them, they love what they do, or at least what they thought they would be doing.  They love seeing a student learn to read or write their name for the first time, they are excited when a student finally understands a new concept.  Teachers cry when they feel that they aren't reaching a student, they spend time trying to reach all their students in some way.  

    I remember my first grade teacher who didn't yell at me when I jumped up and shouted because I finished reading.  My second grade teacher started each day with a song played on her record player. My fourth grade teacher encouraged my class to write stories, make covers for them with construction paper, and keep them in our class library.  In middle school, my language arts teacher taught me to diagram sentences and to disco dance, while my social studies teacher talked about faraway places on his globe.  My high school English teacher encouraged me to write, my Home Ec teacher wanted me to be fully rounded and prepared for life, my science and math teachers were always ready to help me with homework if I didn't understand.  Yes, these teachers worked for their paychecks, but they were invested in my future.

     While I was teaching, I worked long hours to provide activities that would engage my class in ways that a text book couldn't.  I read literature to them, we did projects based the literature.  Because I taught in a rural school corporation, I taught Art to my class every other week since the teacher had to cover two elementary schools. We had no gym teacher, so I also taught gym to my students.  I had very little background in these areas, just one college class for each, so I had to learn how to teach these subjects on my own, using my own resources.  I spent weekends and evenings at school planning lessons, grading papers, decorating my classroom, and doing my best to make my students successful.  I didn't have an instructional assistant, it was just me and my kiddos for most of the day.  

     As a parent, I have watched D's teachers work long hours to provide her with a good education.  They make themselves available for conferences, phone calls, and emails.  I have seen her teachers cry (or come close) when talking about some of the obstacles that they are facing right now.  When I was in kindergarten, we did lots of playing and moving around.  Now teachers are teaching these kids how to fill in a circle on a test.  Teachers are losing class time so that the students can practice for a test, but the teachers keep showing up, doing what they love, just to make my child successful.  They aren't doing this because they like my child the best, they are doing the exact same thing for all the children in their classroom.  They are doing this because they are called to teach.  

     Take a minute and close your eyes.  Think about your school years.  Name one teacher who inspired you. Hopefully there was more than one teacher who inspired you, who showed kindness to you, who loved you.  I know that there a bad teachers out there, most of us have had at least one.  I also know that there are far more good teachers than bad teachers.  The good teachers are tired.  They are spending their own money, their time off, to become better teachers, to reach every child they encounter.  Tell a teacher that you appreciate them, what they are doing, and that you support them.   Name one teacher that has had a positive impact on your life...tell them if you can.  It's the best gift that you could give a teacher.