Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama !!!!!!!!!

If you have ever raised a toddler you've enjoyed the cacophony of your name, most likely high pitched and whiny, called without respite at the most inconvenient time.  Mama, mama, mommy, moooooo----oooooommmm! I've barely processed the fact my kid needs me from hearing my name the first time when my name is called a dozen more times. Aggravating?  Oh yes.  So after a particularly arduous road trip with two boys armed with my name and a million requests I decided it was time to introduce "wait time" to my kids.

Sitting in the driver's seat (literally only, though my greatest dream is to say that metaphorically) of my little Corolla I explained to the boys a very "grown up" idea.  They had to count to ten between saying my name the first time and repeating any version of my name.  We practiced trying it by counting out loud.  Then they used their fingers, then they needed to count in their heads.  It worked pretty well for the rest of the trip and  I smugly congratulated myself for a moment of parenting GENIUS.

Then I went to school.  I have some kids, let's call them all Tammy for convenience.  These Tammys were slow to respond to directives, either due to auditory processing delays or attitude complications.  I caught myself saying, within one breathe, "Tammy, come see me...I need you to come to my desk....it's time to come see me....we need to conference...Tammy I told you to come see me NOW!"  It dawned on me I was doing exactly what drove me crazy in the car.  

In an effort to be efficient with time and to make sure my questions are phrased so all kids will understand, I tend to talk.  A LOT.  Without stop.  My poor students.  My poor sons.  It's time to practice what I preach.  I ask a question.  I count to ten in my head.  Then I look for answers, this gives the thoughtful quiet kids a fighting chance again the chair hopping arm wavers.  I give a student a directive.  I count to ten.  If the student doesn't respond I reduce my words and rephrase the request. Once.  

What's the moral?  The less I talk, the more kids learn.  Enough said.

Push it REAL good, or maybe not....

If you've ever been to Maine you might have noticed the fickle weather.  Three weeks of rain in the summer can be offset by a 70 degree day in December (true stories).  This past November we had one of those "gift" days.  Everyone was giddy with the "hot" weather.  I tore out of school, taking care to not burn rubber in front of the busses, and headed straight home to grab my kayak and hit Clary Lake.  Now the weather was like summer, but the length of day was still a short November.  


Imagine my chagrin when I realized the kayak racks were off my little Corolla.  No problem, I overcame and found a way to strap the boat onto the Jeep and took off.  Unfortunately, the five mile drive to the lake told me my tie down method did not benefit from the rush job (see last post's topic of PATIENCE).  But no matter, I sallied forth to the lake, untied the kayak and "put boat in water."

What a gorgeous paddle, doesn't the lake look beautiful?  I stayed on the water until the sun went down.  By the time I made it back to the car it was dark.  My hands were a little chilly and I just didn't want to fuss around with the straps.  So my "brilliant" solution was to take down the back seats of the Jeep and throw the boat in the car. It had worked with my sons' two kayaks, so OF COURSE it would work again.


I slid that puppy in, congratulating myself for being a creative and practical problem solver (see Maine Learning Results).  As I brought down the tailgate I met with some resistance.  Hmmm, if at first you don't succeed, try HARDER.  So I brought the tailgate down again, with GUSTO.  The tailgate latched just as I heard a sickening crack.  The boat was tucked safely in my car, nestled up close and personal with my windshield.


When I talked with the insurance company it was hard to tell the truth about what happened, and to be honest, I might have tried lying about it, but I simply couldn't come up with any other logical explanation.


As I sat in the glass shop, waiting for my windshield to be replaced I thought about how forcing anything (except maybe plant bulbs) just isn't the smart route.  There are some kids in my class who are reluctant learners.  They have experienced failure in school and wish to avoid that sensation as much as possible.  I can try to force these kids to learn.  Pushing them and pushing them in the same manner relentlessly.  But all that gets me is a metaphoric cracked windshield, and the damage is deeper that that spider web crack in the glass.  Another alternative is to step back.  Look at the situation, and use my brain to create a different solution.


My class math block is after lunch and recess.  For an hour and a half.  Yowzer.  It wasn't so bad at the beginning of the year, but as the material became more difficult I started losing even the most engaged students.  It was painful, root canal painful.  I didn't even like the block and yet I kept pushing and pushing... The best case scenario was the kids just didn't latch onto the concept.  The worst case scenario was my more emotionally fragile kids had meltdowns, resulting in their departure from the classroom.


Finally I stopped pushing and looked at the situation.  I had a half hour of wiggle room in the morning before I started losing kids to different teachers. If we moved morning meeting up a little I might even get forty minutes.  So I changed it up.  We started the hard core part of the math lesson early in the morning with follow up in the afternoon.  The kids immediately perked up. When we did a fist to five evaluation of our new math schedule the result was an overwhelming number of fives.


It's not in my nature to stop and assess a situation.  I'm guilty of jumping in the pool before checking to see if there's water in it.  Yet when I do just pause, breathe a little and think around a challenge I meet with much greater success than pushing through.  And my Jeep will thank me to remember it.

Patience, the lost virtue

      I have the most wonderful health care provider.  She has seen me through several "quirky" little conditions and is now "rooting for me" to recover from mono.  One of my favorite things about Kristin is that because she has seen me through falls while bouldering and back injuries while doing wood, she knows how difficult it is for me to just ....sit.

     Today I saw her for the third time regarding this fabulous little virus that is robbing me of all the wonderful energy I enjoy while teaching and parenting and just living.  She put her arm around me and  told me she knows how hard it is for me to be patient for recovery.  She told me how frustrated is that she can't "fix" this for me.  

     After getting sent to the lab for blood work I had to wait behind a woman who must have had at least thirteen orders for different blood tests.  There was only one receptionist as it was lunch time.  I was already exhausted and beginning to get cranky with waiting.  So I took a seat, started to rustle through the newspaper for distraction from this aggravation.  Then I noticed some artwork in the hall.  Instead of seeking distraction I just stopped and looked at it.  Took in the details.  Found it to be quite lovely, and was startled when another receptionist came back from lunch and called to me.

     As I drove home, a car pulled out in front of me.  Perhaps the driver thought it was Sunday, as he was practically crawling with his car.  This time, instead of pulling out to pass, I removed my foot from the accelerator and settled in for an extended journey home.  In doing so I was able to notice some crocuses that had bloomed by a church, a heron in the marsh, little sparks of nature.

     Several friends texted me today, checking in.  They want a report of improvement.  I loathe not being able to provide that great news.  Lord knows it's what I WANT to say.  Then I recalled doing the same thing to my ailing friends.  I just want them to feel better.  Now.  I have so often failed to be patient with those I care about when they are physically or emotionally unwell.  I throw out the obligatory "Let me know if I can do anything..." and then just wish they would get the heck better.   And now here I am, feeling like a failure for not recovering faster.  Patience.  I try to be gentle with myself and practice patience.  I'm going to need a lot more practice before I start feeling successful with the concept.