I was driving down Shadeland Ave. today towards the CVS. As I crossed over the tracks I saw a woman gently rocking back and forth and praying. She didn't look crazy. I don't think she was praying to the goddess of toothpaste or anything like that.
She looked in her late 50's, with whispy gray and blonde hair pulling in the wind. She had her hands clasped to her lips, and was sitting on the tracks. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but I really just wished I had a camera. Her face was intent as her mouth formed around the small words she muttered.
As I drove on, I couldn't help wondering what she was praying for. She didn't look in anguish- nor did she look angry. She had an almost smile- like a child on her face.
I started thinking about my prayers. What do I pray for? Every night I go through the same prayers I did as a child...Jesus tender...
Over the past 6 years I have added to my prayers to include the 3 most important men in my life. Is that enough?
This woman seemed thankful- hopeful- joyful. Was she thanking God the train was coming? Who knows.
So in my cheesebox, I started to say a little prayer. Thanking God for my everyday gifts. Thanking him for how my little guys help me to see what I look beyond. The perfect example being yesterday. Jack and I were at my mom's house outside watching her garden. Jack said "Mom, I really like those stones in the wall" What stones? The wall in front of my mom's house has beautifully colored stones lining the front. I hadn't looked at that in years. And someone had carved a J in one stone. I don't know who. One of three I guess.
So look around you today and say a railroad prayer!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sassy
Sassy. That's my mom, or rather what everyone in my family calls her. My boys love their Sassy. On Sunday mornings we go there for breakfast. All I have to do is mention Sassy to Ollie, and he starts doing this dance that resembles the truffle shuffle from Goonies.
I love watching her with my kids. She is so patient. This past Sunday Jack dropped a train or left a train or something and it was my brother's growing up so it was metal. My mom got caught up in the train wreck and sort of skipped while saying- "Hai-ya-shi-coo-coo-ahhhh!". Jack looked at her wondering if she too spoke Japanese like his other grandma. I just commented that this was never how she reacted when I was a kid. Her words would have been way more colorful. Just like when my brother got in trouble for saying shit in Montessori. Hmmmm- I guess grandkids change you...Anyway:
Oliver-Sassy-Evelyn-Cory-Jack
I love watching her with my kids. She is so patient. This past Sunday Jack dropped a train or left a train or something and it was my brother's growing up so it was metal. My mom got caught up in the train wreck and sort of skipped while saying- "Hai-ya-shi-coo-coo-ahhhh!". Jack looked at her wondering if she too spoke Japanese like his other grandma. I just commented that this was never how she reacted when I was a kid. Her words would have been way more colorful. Just like when my brother got in trouble for saying shit in Montessori. Hmmmm- I guess grandkids change you...Anyway:
Oliver-Sassy-Evelyn-Cory-Jack
Monday, June 15, 2009
Playing School
I've been here at work for almost 2 hours already. I must admit, although I know I am a nut job for waking up at 4:45 every morning, I love my wee early morning hours at school.
My routine is the same. The first thing I do is turn on Pandora radio and go make photo copies. I love that there is no one else in this building who needs some serious copies at 6 am but me. I hate the feeling around 7:30 when I walk past our two copy machines. The tension is thick. Teachers milling around 2 copiers with coffee in their hands. Everyone exchanges pleasantries, but, very much like being in line at the bank, no one moves too far to the right or the left- lest they loose their place.
I then go back to my room and check email and eat dry cereal of some sort. I'll do my agenda board and then start typing my papers for the next day up. This way I rarely have to bring my work home with me. Bringing work home doesn't really work for me anyway.
I do love this whole teaching gig. Sometimes- before the sun has really risen, before the building starts to fill with noise, I sit back and look at my classroom. Is this for real? I do what? I still giggle to myself when people ask me what I do for a living. I teach (hee hee).
It's funny because I used to play school all of the time when I was a kid. I used to love pretending that I was the one in charge. I loved writing on chalk boards and saying God knows what to stuffed animals!
I remember my first weeks here. I had no clue what to do or what to expect. What I did know was that now I had an actual purpose to go into Staples. I was given license to buy sticky notes and dry erase markers. OK, so my school supplied me with both, but not the ones I wanted.
Oh, and transparencies. I was so excited to have transparencies. I really felt like a teacher the first day I taught vocabulary and used a transparency with a brand new Vis-a-vis wet erase marker. I knew, at that moment, that I had made it.
I know that teaching is all about shaping lives and molding minds- It is- but the instruments are just as exciting to me. Sad, I know, but I was also the kid who was excited in September for new copybooks. Every blank page was a fresh start. Each sharp pencil was another chance.
Hmm, my goal is to post a picture of my classroom by the end of the week. There is the bell- no joke. Alright kids, tuck your shirts in, place all items not related to today under your seat, and give me your eyes to show me you are ready. Live your dreams!
My routine is the same. The first thing I do is turn on Pandora radio and go make photo copies. I love that there is no one else in this building who needs some serious copies at 6 am but me. I hate the feeling around 7:30 when I walk past our two copy machines. The tension is thick. Teachers milling around 2 copiers with coffee in their hands. Everyone exchanges pleasantries, but, very much like being in line at the bank, no one moves too far to the right or the left- lest they loose their place.
I then go back to my room and check email and eat dry cereal of some sort. I'll do my agenda board and then start typing my papers for the next day up. This way I rarely have to bring my work home with me. Bringing work home doesn't really work for me anyway.
I do love this whole teaching gig. Sometimes- before the sun has really risen, before the building starts to fill with noise, I sit back and look at my classroom. Is this for real? I do what? I still giggle to myself when people ask me what I do for a living. I teach (hee hee).
It's funny because I used to play school all of the time when I was a kid. I used to love pretending that I was the one in charge. I loved writing on chalk boards and saying God knows what to stuffed animals!
I remember my first weeks here. I had no clue what to do or what to expect. What I did know was that now I had an actual purpose to go into Staples. I was given license to buy sticky notes and dry erase markers. OK, so my school supplied me with both, but not the ones I wanted.
Oh, and transparencies. I was so excited to have transparencies. I really felt like a teacher the first day I taught vocabulary and used a transparency with a brand new Vis-a-vis wet erase marker. I knew, at that moment, that I had made it.
I know that teaching is all about shaping lives and molding minds- It is- but the instruments are just as exciting to me. Sad, I know, but I was also the kid who was excited in September for new copybooks. Every blank page was a fresh start. Each sharp pencil was another chance.
Hmm, my goal is to post a picture of my classroom by the end of the week. There is the bell- no joke. Alright kids, tuck your shirts in, place all items not related to today under your seat, and give me your eyes to show me you are ready. Live your dreams!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Punk Rock & Melon Head
I think there used to be a band called Melonhead...mellons...that sang about a chunky bee- who were they? Well, this one is much juicer:
He asked for a Mohawk. We gave him one. I asked him to pose with his new do and this is what I get:
Ahhhhh....a 32" bad ass... (p.s.-If you look at the bottom left of frame, you'll see him clutching his stuffed bat-thats tough!)
He asked for a Mohawk. We gave him one. I asked him to pose with his new do and this is what I get:
Ahhhhh....a 32" bad ass... (p.s.-If you look at the bottom left of frame, you'll see him clutching his stuffed bat-thats tough!)
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
I miss my children
I guess that got your attention.
Hi. I have no idea if anyone checks anymore, but I decided to make a visit. There are 2 weeks left in my first teaching year...maybe I can be a summer blogger- maybe I'll just write this one- who knows?
Back to missing my kids. Pneumonia. I have pneumonia. It blows. I've been sick for days and diagnosed yesterday. I'm not allowed back to work until I'm 24 hrs. without a fever, so I've been at home. I had almost forgotten how much day time TV sucks.
Anyway, my AWESOME mom has been picking up my kids from school and watching them until Sage comes home. I really don't want my chunkie bunch to get this- and I have a super hard time not biting my children. Not in a "creepy thin moustache man" way, but more of the "mom can't get enough of chunky cheeks and fat heinies"
How muchable are they? I hate not being able to gobble them, and I think I'll cry if I hear Jack say "how'bout I just kiss you on the cheek mommy?" on more time.
Jack is a regular riot. He is a mini con artist. This morning he was not "feeling well" and I comlpetly bought it. He said " I think I'll just lay down and rest". 30 minutes after Sage left the house, I see a little pair of feet shuffling at the top of the steps- "Mommy, how about I read to you". He scampers down in a t-shirt and Superman under-roos. He reads..."Mommy, I think I need some fuel."
Jack is also the epitome of a curious boy, who asks hundereds of questions and makes me understand why I can remember my mom yelling "WHAAAAAAAAAt?!" He retains its all and amazes me with his applications. He tolerates his brother (I'll say why in a minute) with love and patience. The two of them have a bond so strong, and I can't pinpoint its beginning.
Oliver. He is so different from Jack. He rules his world with muscle and sticks he collects. He is independant and strong. Jack will sit and try and find a hinge to open something- Ollie will just bust the damn thing apart, and then study it.
Ollie has a feel for music that I didn't think could come so early. Before he even tried words, there was song coming from his perfect mouth. It moves him- delights him- it is obviously in him.
The sun in Oliver's world is Jack. I really think it was his first clear word. he follows his brother. He will tear him off the couch by his toes- not to be mean, but so that he can climb on top of him, grab a chunk of his hair and cuddle.
I know that the pictures kinda suck. I have made it a goal this summer to take brilliant pictures of my son. Not crappy point and shot ones. Since I am not teaching summer school, I will definatly have the time...right?
Hi. I have no idea if anyone checks anymore, but I decided to make a visit. There are 2 weeks left in my first teaching year...maybe I can be a summer blogger- maybe I'll just write this one- who knows?
Back to missing my kids. Pneumonia. I have pneumonia. It blows. I've been sick for days and diagnosed yesterday. I'm not allowed back to work until I'm 24 hrs. without a fever, so I've been at home. I had almost forgotten how much day time TV sucks.
Anyway, my AWESOME mom has been picking up my kids from school and watching them until Sage comes home. I really don't want my chunkie bunch to get this- and I have a super hard time not biting my children. Not in a "creepy thin moustache man" way, but more of the "mom can't get enough of chunky cheeks and fat heinies"
How muchable are they? I hate not being able to gobble them, and I think I'll cry if I hear Jack say "how'bout I just kiss you on the cheek mommy?" on more time.
Jack is a regular riot. He is a mini con artist. This morning he was not "feeling well" and I comlpetly bought it. He said " I think I'll just lay down and rest". 30 minutes after Sage left the house, I see a little pair of feet shuffling at the top of the steps- "Mommy, how about I read to you". He scampers down in a t-shirt and Superman under-roos. He reads..."Mommy, I think I need some fuel."
Jack is also the epitome of a curious boy, who asks hundereds of questions and makes me understand why I can remember my mom yelling "WHAAAAAAAAAt?!" He retains its all and amazes me with his applications. He tolerates his brother (I'll say why in a minute) with love and patience. The two of them have a bond so strong, and I can't pinpoint its beginning.
Oliver. He is so different from Jack. He rules his world with muscle and sticks he collects. He is independant and strong. Jack will sit and try and find a hinge to open something- Ollie will just bust the damn thing apart, and then study it.
Ollie has a feel for music that I didn't think could come so early. Before he even tried words, there was song coming from his perfect mouth. It moves him- delights him- it is obviously in him.
The sun in Oliver's world is Jack. I really think it was his first clear word. he follows his brother. He will tear him off the couch by his toes- not to be mean, but so that he can climb on top of him, grab a chunk of his hair and cuddle.
I know that the pictures kinda suck. I have made it a goal this summer to take brilliant pictures of my son. Not crappy point and shot ones. Since I am not teaching summer school, I will definatly have the time...right?
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