Let the Summer Begin

We spent this past Sunday at my parents house [Casa de la Byrum to the rest of you fools] to celebrate Memorial Day and Sweet William's birthday. Of course, the babies only had one word on their minds: swimming! Emma managed to put her bathing suit on in about 2.5 seconds, get sprayed down with sunscreen in less than 1 sec, and off she went with a fabulous cannonball. Gabe was next [not understanding a bit that his swim trunks have built in "underwear" and arguing with me that he needed to leave his skivvies on] once he had on his swimmies. As always, the biggest water bug of them all, my sister, was already "playing" in the pool with Sophie Ruth. To my surprise, WSGE was not blaring from the speakers but instead I heard Whitesnake [It could have been worse than WSGE since my dad is a huge fan of Lady GaGa AND Color Me Badd AND Jim Croce. It could have been much, much worse.]

While the babies swam, we fixed burgers and hotdog, and homemade ice cream. To me, homemade ice cream is like Heaven in frozen form. I am not a huge fan of ice cream [I know some people who eat a bowl every night before bed] but I truly love homemade ice cream. I like vanilla only because you can add so much to it ~ my favorite is fresh peaches. My mom went for the safe alternatives like whipped cream, chocolate, sprinkles, and chocolate chips. It was super good. Homemade ice cream also brings back fond memories. My mom and dad currently have an electric ice cream maker but growing up we had one of those that you had to crank. And crank. And crank. We worked for our ice cream ~ no cranking = no ice cream. Good times, good times :)

The babies [and Summer] came out of the pool long enough to eat then back to swimming they went. Forget that whole "you'll get cramps if you swim after eating" myth. Gabe was still chewing when I heard him yell "Cannonball!!" What is it about swimming? I, personally, am not fond of swimming [I hate pets. I don't like swimming. What a bore!!!!] I think it is because, to be honest [unless you like hearing lies] I am afraid of the water. I have this fear of drowning. I know how to swim [sort of] and I've never had an issue in the water but I think subconsciously I am constantly thinking about not being able to reach the surface once I'm under the water [therapy is costly people ~ that is why I write]. I love to watch the Shorties swim and I am glad they do not share my disdain for the water. [Add to this the fact that the best way to swim is in a bathing suit. That is scarier than the water. Swear.]

We had a blast and our night ended with Bill and Diane shagging on by the pool [Yes, we did end up listening to your eclectic music station, WSEG ~ I knew it would happen.] and that makes me smile. They are so cute and so much in love. Perfect Sunday :)

[SWITCH]
This is the week that I dread the most. The week when 3 and 4 reign and 1 and 2 mean you have to try again. It means messed up schedules, more As, Bs, Cs, and Ds than I care to see, and weary children. It is make or break.

All for what? Does one year of learning really all boil down to this? Seriously?

I have been on the losing end of this battle many, many times. One time [engrained in my memory and relived, this time of year, over and over and over again like a broken record] I was tossed a piece of paper [it was pink] with a list of names on it. Mine was at the bottom [not because my last name starts with S and S is at the end of the alphabet] . I was told [and I quote] "You are the worst reading teacher in this county. This proves it." I remember leaving that office, wanting to run far away [only I was very pregnant so that wasn't an option] and never, ever teach again. I mean, really, what else could I say? If the TEST results put me there then it must have been true: I.was.a.sucky.reading.teacher. Yet, as I think back about that moment, there wasn't one bit of constructive criticism that came out during this conversation - only there is your name and you're [paraphrased] a lousy reading teacher. Never was there mention of offering help, finding someone to mentor me, looking at my philosophy of how to teach reading, etc. - just "You suck."

Did I truly long to be a part of the "High Fliers" club? Did I start teaching to simply produce a test score? Was I going to allow the testing monsters to eat me alive and become one of them?

No, no, and heck no. I made up my mind that day, whether my name came first or last the next year, that I was going to teach as if my life depended on it. I was going to teach from my heart and try to meet every kid where they were when they landed in my classroom. I decided to block out all of the competition to be "THE" teacher with "THE" kids and learn all I could about how to be a better, more effective reading teacher. More than anything, I promised myself, that I would never, ever make anyone [including my students] feel like I did that day when I walked out of that office. Never. Ever.

Colossians 3:23 says "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if working for the Lord and not for men." I teach because I love it. I teach because it is a way I can honor God by doing what He would have me do. I teach because it is fun [more days than not] and because kids can teach me so much about life [whether you want to hear it or not] and keep me young. I'm not interested in getting my name on a list or being a "High Flier" or being THE teacher. Those are titles that only elevate the teacher and really, it's not about us at all.

[SWITCH]
Molly was asked to move up to the 18U team in the organization that she plays for and I am so proud of her! She started off this season, the only freshman on the Varsity team, feeling like she had to prove that she wasn't just on the team because her dad is the coach [Which is absolutely true] and ended the season leaving no doubt that she deserved to be a part of that team. She is just a cool kid and I love her.

[LAST SWITCH]
I am thankful to all of the service men and women who have fought, still fight, and will fight so that our great country remains safe and free. "Greater love has no one than this that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13. I am honored to be a part of such a great nation and I vow to never, ever forget the sacrifices paid by so many.

As always, especially on a day like Memorial Day, life is so good :)

Gobbles

Yesterday, in class, my students worked on some labs. We hang out at school, usually in my room or Craig's classroom, on Wednesdays until church. I had Gabe with me and I was cleaning up the lab stuff when he found the gobbles [goggles for those of you that are slow]. He put them on his face and walked around, telling everyone that would listen that he was wearing gobbles. I wish I'd had a camera. Actually, I did have my camera but I didn't remember I had it until he was way past the gobbles....oh well.

Today, when I picked him up, he had a note in his cubby. It read something like this: Today Gabe tackled another child because the child took his toy. He caused the child to hit his head, which caused a bruise. Also, Gabe needs pull-ups. Thanks, Ms. _______.

Here are a few questions I had when reading this note:
1. Did you put him in time out when he tackled the child?
2. Do I need to avoid this parent at all cost, in the hall, in the parking lot, etc.?
3. How much more random can you be with the pull-ups request?
4. We don't even use the cussed things [pull-ups] at home because he refuses - what makes you so special?

Later, while waiting for Cooper's game, I tried to get to the bottom of the tackling story:
Me: Gabe, did you tackle someone today at nursery.
Gabe: I did not.
Me: You didn't knock someone down because they took your toy?
Gabe: He hitted me so I knocked him down.
Me: That isn't what the note said. The note said you knocked him down because he took your toy. Are you telling me a lie?
Gabe: Yes I am. He hitted me when I knocked him down.
Me: So you knocked him down and then he hit you?
Gabe: Yes, he hitted me when I knocked him down. Can I buy some candy when we go to Coopy's game?
Me: Are you going to tackle your friend again?
Gabe: Yes and then he will hit me.
Me [Thinking to myself: This is really pointless. I could be asking that tree over there the same questions and get the same response. I give up.] So, are you going to be a good boy tomorrow?
Gabe: Yes, ma'am. Can I get a piece of candy now?
Was the problem solved? No. Will he tackle again? Probably. Did he get some candy? Of course. Is he rotten? Ummmmm...yeah!!!

My dad has been shaving his head bald for a while now. For some reason he has decided to let his hair grow out. We haven't seen him since New Year's Eve and tonight, he and my mom came to Cooper's bball game. We were sitting in the stands when Craig, Emma, and Molly arrived. Emma stops, at the bottom of the steps, and yells up to my dad, "Hey Paw Paw! You are growing hair on your head!" He belly laughed...it was classic!!!! Then, later on, Molly says the same thing, just as loud. I guess it's been a while since they seen hair on his head. Come to think of it, I don't remember him with hair on his head....

My kids are wishing for snow. I am just wishing that someone would pack up my house...but, as always...life is good :)

Missy ♥