A Family Story

My daughter loves to hear family stories.  Stories about her grandparents, stories about me when I was a child, and stories about how I met her dad.  Yesterday, we had the pleasure of having my mom over for dinner.  After dinner I suggested that Rachel ask her grandmother to tell her a story.

"What kind of story do you want the hear, Rachel?" Her grandmother asked.  "I don't know, whatever you want."  Rachel responds.  

"Well, I think you're old enough to hear this.  I was 30 years old.  I hadn't gotten my period yet.  So I went to the doctor to see if he could give me something.  I told the doctor that I had not gotten my period and I was worried that I might be pregnant.  He asked me how many children I had and I told him I had 3.  The doctor gave me an injection.  I went home and waited but to my dismay I still didn't get my period.  I went back to the doctor a  few weeks later.  I told him that whatever he had given me did not work because I still had not gotten my period.  I was so angry, I slammed the office door.   About another month went by and I went back to see the doctor because I figured I had to pregnant.  He told me he felt so bad after I left his office angry.  I said, yes, I was angry because you could have helped me but you didn't.  That's when I found out I was pregnant with your mother."

"What?  Am I hearing this right?  You didn't want me?"  I asked my mom.  I was shocked.  I had never before heard my mom say that she really had not wanted any more children when she conceived me.  This was news to me!  

Mom went on to say, "Then your mom was born.  She had a head full of black hair and fat round cheeks.  All the neighbors wanted to know what I was feeding her because she was so fat."  This was moms way of reassuring me the I was wanted none the less.

It's always a treat to hear my mom tell one of her stories.  
     Even the ones that have an unexpected twist.

Who are the storytellers in your family?  Please share in the comment section below.

Little Poets

Today I launched our poetry unit in my first grade classroom.  Using an idea from the Two Writing Teachers, I decided to have my students write a poem prior to teaching the unit to determine what my students already knew about poetry.  I read Zoe Ryder White's poem, The Pencil Sharpener, and we talked about looking at ordinary objects with poets' eyes.  I also had my students close their eyes while they listened to me sharpen a pencil in our electric pencil sharpener.  Immediately, I heard words like bees, point, stinger, sharpen, and buzzing.  Excitement filled the room as the light bulbs began to turn on in their heads.  It was truly an "aha moment".  My first graders are beginning to understand what it means to look at ordinary things with poets' eyes.

I created new poetry folders for the unit.  Inside the folder I placed ten sheets of paper with a box at the top for a picture and lines below.  I asked my students to try their hands at writing a poem.  It could be a poem about anything at all.  "Can I write a poem about a poem?" asked Emily.  "You sure can!" I responded with a bit too much enthusiasm.  "Can I write a poem about a clock?" Aidan asked.  "Yes." I responded.  "You can write a poem about anything at all."  Everyone was sent off to write.  I started the music for Quiet Ten.  (Ten minutes of absolute quiet writing time by everyone, including me.)  Today however, it was more like Quiet 20.  I wanted to give my poets enough time to illustrate and write a poem.

Everyone wrote a poem, including me.  There was another pencil sharpener poem written.  Several kids wrote poems about clocks.  I was surprised and amazed at what my new little poets were able to do.  Below is the poem I wrote during Quiet 20, and another poem written by one of my first graders.

(My district uses Units of Study for Primary Writing:  A Yearlong Curriculum, Poetry: Powerful Thoughts in Tiny Packages by Lucy Calkins as a resource for teaching writing.)

First Grade Poets
by Valerie Ruckes

Pencils at the ready
eagerly preparing to write
a poem, a thought, a memory.

Heads bent in concentration
eyes focused on the paper
some drawing
some looking up and into thought
imagining the possibilities
of creating
something special.


Fireworks!
by Rachel

Firework Flame
Firework Flame
They dance awake
like a game.
Fireworks, Fireworks, Fireworks
Oh how beautiful
fireworks are!
I love Fireworks

You Are A Writer! (SOLS 31)

Today is the last day of #slice2012.  This morning, @ruthayers posted her final slice for this month.  I read her words, "Take the time to celebrate and relish the fact that YOU are a writer."  I thought to myself, yes, I Am A Writer.  Thanks Ruth, for that affirmation, and for encouraging us to continue our "writing habits".

Writing habits.  Those 2 words resonated with me.  I started thinking about habits and how they are done often and automatically.   According to Wikipedia, habits are routines of behavior that are repeated regularly and tend to occur subconsciously.  Writing daily HAS become routine for me, thanks to this challenge. 

I know that I have become more aware of the stories in my life, "the slices".  Stories that once seemed hidden from me, are up close and personal.  They're in the people I meet, the places I go, the things I see and hear, the experiences I have, the thoughts that enter my mind but used to silently slip away.  They are here, they are there, they are everywhere!

Closed Eyes (SOLS 30)

As my daughter was leaving for the school bus this morning, I reached for her coat to button it.  She looked at me and said, "Mom, you're doing that because you wish I was still little, don't you?"  "Yes, I do."  I admitted.  Then Rachel said, "Remember when I was little, and you read stories to me at bedtime?  I would close my eyes, and tell you to keep reading because even though my eyes were closed I could still hear you."  "Yes, Rachel.  I do remember that."  I said. 

I started thinking about other times when it's appropriate to close our eyes.  Here's my list of those times:
We close our eyes...

• when we are sleeping.
• when we are kissing someone.
• when we are being surprised-someone tells us to close them or someone covers them for us.
• when we are playing games-my students love playing 7 Up.  Everyone closes their eyes except the 7 that are standing up.
• when we are watching a scary movie-not through the entire movie, just the scariest scenes.
• when we are riding a Roller Coaster-especially when going down the really high parts.
• when we are visualizing something or someone we read about in a book.
• when we are praying.

Perhaps there are other times when closing our eyes is an appropriate response.  Can you think of any that are not on this list?  Please share.

The End of the Story (SOLS 29)

Reading is one of my favorite pastimes.  I love getting cozy with a good book.  I aways feel a bit of sadness when I finish a really good book.  Sadness, because I love connecting with the characters, and predicting what they will do next. 
There are times when I feel like the end of the book is not the end of the story.  Eventually, I get a new book and the excitement starts all over again.

This year, 13 people are retiring in my building.  They are colleagues, they are friends, they are people I've seen everyday for the past 12 years.  It feels like these colleagues are ending a very important book.  Many have tearfully submitted the necessary paperwork that ensures that this book will come to a close. 

I anticipate that these friends will start new books.  Books that will be just as engaging as the last.  After all, teaching is all about engagement.  They will pursue other interests; travel, reconnect with family in more meaningful ways, become support systems for grandchildren, explore hobbies, start businesses, and begin new careers.  The possibilities are as big as whatever they dare to dream.  The end of this book... is not... the end of the story.  

I Struggle (SOLS 28)

I struggle with going to bed at a decent hour.
By decent I mean by 10:00 p.m.

I struggle with getting up at 5:00 a.m. for my morning workout.
Who can function on 5 hours of sleep?
Getting to bed at a decent hour would help tremendously.

I struggle with writing this post.
Too tired to think of something interesting.
Too spent after a day of teaching little ones.

I struggle with the demands of the workday.
So many things to do; self-evaluations, reports, and planning meetings.
All of that in addition to teaching, engaging, planning, assessing, remediating, enriching, differentiating, collaborating, and connecting with parents.

I struggle with getting through this week.
Two more days before I can revel in a much needed spring break.
Three more days of slicing to complete this challenge.

Tomorrow is new day.
A new outlook.
A new plan.

Things First Graders Like To Say or Ask... (SOLS 27)

• Is it time to go home yet?
• My mom's ____ years old.
• Next month is my birthday!
• The end of the month is my birthday!
• Next week is my birthday!
• In two days it's my birthday!
• Can I have another one?
• Hey, mom!  I mean Mrs._____ .
• Can I have a band aid?
• My fingers hurt from writing so much.
• Can we have extra recess?
• Can I turn off the lights?
• Can I turn on the lights?
• Can I turn off the lights tomorrow?
• You're the best teacher I've ever had! (They've only had two and I'm one of them.)

Today's Funny Story:  Today at their music special, they sang a song and the lyrics went, "How do you spell far? F-A-R" and the kids told me they thought the music teacher was saying, "How do you smell fart? F-A-R...oops far not fart." 
They couldn't wait to share that story with me.  You gotta love it.

First grade is a magical year!

Majestic Sun, Mysterious Clouds (SOLS 26)

I photographed this on my drive into work.  I was mesmerized by the beauty that was unfolding before my eyes.


Majestic sun
   Mysterious clouds

Warming the earth as you suspend overhead
   Changing shape as you glide across the morning sky

Majestic sun
   Mysterious clouds

Bright and bold, you command our attention
   White and feathery, you sooth our senses

Majestic sun
   Mysterious clouds

I am mesmerized by your beauty
  I am captivated by your activity

Majestic sun
   Mysterious clouds

I am blessed by
   Your presence.

Forsythia in Bloom (SOLS 25)


Forsythia, Forsythia, Forsythia...

I've been admiring the Forsythia for about a week now.  They were just starting to peek through the leaves on their glorious branches, and today they're in full bloom.  On Friday, I dropped my students off at their art special and to my amazement, the art teacher had a sample of a Forsythia project she was going to make with them.  They we going to make Forsythia out of yellow tissue paper, and glue them to branches in a vase.  I spent the whole week noticing Forsythia everywhere, and my students would be creating that very thing in art.

I started thinking about why I get so excited when the Forsythia start to bloom.  The typical reason is because it's one of the first signs of spring.  When the Forsythia start to bloom, I know spring is around the corner.  Then it occurred to me that it reminds me of my childhood.  When I was little, we had Forsythia bushes in our yard.  I always thought the flowers were bright and beautiful.  I remember spending many spring days making mud pies.  I would use the pans that came with my Easy Bake Oven as a mold.  I would put dirt and water in one of the pans and stir the mixture with a stick as if it were cake batter.  I would turn the concoction upside down onto a surface like our picnic table, and lift the pan away, leaving a perfectly round mud pie.  I would then collect a few Forsythia branches from a nearby bush, and use the delicate flowers to decorate my pies.  The end result would be a masterpiece.  So, when I see the Forsythia in bloom, I think of spring and great childhood memories.  Do kids still do that?  Make mud pies? 

I hope so.

FALLING (SOLS #24)

I just spoke to my sister, Kathy.  She just informed me that my 11 month old niece is now walking and talking.  Yes, little Gracie (Grace) is walking and talking.  Grace is my great niece and my sister's first granddaughter.  Last night, Grace was no longer content with holding her Granddad's hand.  Instead, she was anxious to let it go, to take off, and to run!  Not walk, run!  Soon Grace will experience the pain of falling down.  She'll eventually obtain her first boo boo.   When I reminded my sister of that, she became immediately sad and protective.  "Oh no, Grace will have to fall soon." she repeated.

That's when the thought struck me.  Yes, we all have to fall down now and then.  That's how we learn.  We fall down in many different ways, not just physically, but emotionally, socially, professionally, and when we are learning something new.  It's a part of life.  I remember when I was a teenager, I was learning to roller skate backwards.  I could skate forwards, but desperately wanted to skate backwards.  I fell many times, and a lot of those times I fell hard.  People who were watching told me I was going to get hurt.  Of course, I didn't listen.  I'm the kind of person that becomes more determined to do something when people tell me I CAN'T do it.  So, I fell down, but I got back up.  Each time I fell, I got up and kept trying.  Eventually, I learned to skate backwards, and I was pretty good at it.  Ask my sister, Kathy.  She was there, and she'll back me up.

Falling down is not fun.  It's not something we even want to do, but it happens.  What's important is that we get back up.  When my students are learning to read, they have to be willing to take risks.  Sometimes they are more successful using one strategy over another.  They don't stop reading when they make their first attempts or an unsuccessful attempt at applying a strategy.  They may fall down several times in the process.  However, what's important is they get back up, they keep reading and trying.  When my students are problem solving during math exchanges, they make mistakes.  They fall down.  They try solving the problem one way, and when that way doesn't work, they try another way.  So, they get back up.

My sister knows that Gracie is going to fall at some point.  She also knows that Gracie will get back up.  The falling will make her stronger, smarter, and more confident because Gracie will learn how to get back up.  It's okay to fall now and then.  Just make sure you get back up, dust yourself off, and keep trying.  DON'T GIVE UP!

By the way, today (March 24th) is Kathy's birthday.   Happy Birthday, Kathy!

Three Questions (SOLS #23)

One of my favorite picture books is, The Three Questions (Based on a story by Leo Tolstoy) and written and illustrated by Jon J. Muth.  In this book, the three questions are worded slightly differently from the way they appear in Tolstoy's original story.  I thought I would use these three questions as a backdrop for my slice and also to reflect on this challenge.

When is the best time to do things?
Who is the most important one?
What is the right thing to do?

When is the best time to do things?
Everyone knows the answer to this question.  The best time is now.  For many of us "Now" started on March 1, 2012 when this year's Slice of Life Story challenge began.  Initially, we may not have been sure if this was going to be the best time to join this challenge.  But, we knew the time was "now" because we felt deep within, that the time was right.  We may have been nervous, apprehensive, or just plain overwhelmed, but we jumped in with both feet, resolving to do it, committing to give it our best shot.


Who is the most important one?
We all are!  Every person participating in the Slice of Life Challenge has a voice.  Writing styles vary from slicer to slicer.  Yet, every one's stories are of value.  While we think of Ruth and Stacy as our mentors, they seem to think of us as partners on the same writing journey.  Ruth and Stacy write daily slices along with the rest of us.  They identify with our struggles as writers.  I know this because they tell us so when they comment on our posts.  They encourage us just when we seem to need it most.  We may put them on writing pedestals, but they have placed themselves right besides us.  Thank you Ruth and Stacy for your encouragement, motivation, and support.

What is the right thing to do?
The right thing to do is to keep writing.  The right thing to do is to complete this challenge.  The right thing is to keep writing and living writerly lives long after this challenge ends.  The right thing may be something different for each of us.  The right thing is to do all those things you've desired to do with your writing, but until now, didn't have the time, confidence, or motivation to do it.  You have what it takes, and you've had it all along.  Just Do It!  We all have this challenge to thank for opening our minds and hearts to believe it.

What are the old or new possibilities this challenge has opened your heart and mind to?  Please share.

Get It Right (SOLS #22)

My daughter is the typical teenage girl is some ways, yet she is so unlike other teenage daughters in other, good ways.  Rachel is kind, respectful, and affectionate.  She never lashes back with a wicked tongue when I have to reprimand her.  She never ignores me, and she never murmurs huffy inaudible words behind my back.  I hear that other teenagers do that.  I'm so fortunate to have a sweet and sensitive, teenage daughter.  How often do you hear those words used in the same sentence?  Sweet-sensitive-teenager. 

When Rachel goes on a borrowing spree, is when she acts like a typical teenage daughter the most.  She goes into my bedroom and helps herself to whatever she needs.  Everything from socks to nail clippers.  Of course she owns the same items, but there is always a reason for borrowing mine.  When she was about six years old, I noticed that some of my pajama tops would go missing.  When I would ask her about it, she would confess to having borrowed them.  "WHY do you keep taking my pajama tops?  I would ask.  "Because they remind me of you, mom." would be her reply.  Awe...how could I be angry about such a sweet sentiment?

Just last week, I was looking all over the place for an item.  When Rachel told me she had it, I was miffed.  In my anger, I didn't kiss her goodbye.  She acted as if she didn't notice, but I'm sure she did.  I immediately felt ashamed of my behavior.  I would not repeat that behavior again.  No matter what.  Regardless to the circumstance.  Life is way to short, and way to precious to sweat the small things.  Even the small teenage things.

Today's another day.  This time, I'll try to get it right.  My daughter deserves nothing less.

MY BAG... (SOLS #21)

Tonight, like so many others, my guilt runneth over.

My bag...
Full of books, papers, information, and notes.

My bag...
Heavy, cumbersome, ponderous.

My bag...
Full of good intentions.

My bag....
Comes home with me night, after night, after night.

My bag....
Still sitting in the car.

My bag...
Waiting for me.

To remember...

IT!

Letters No More (SOLS #20)

Writing about a slice of my life was not at the top of my "to do" list this evening.  Perhaps, it's because I've had a long day.  My daughter and I had dentists appointments after work, and I'm finally home and settling in for the night.  Now, what to write?  Writing.  Letters.  When was the last time I wrote (not on the computer) a letter?  It's been so long that I can't even remember.


I do remember writing lots and lots of letters when I was a child.  I must have been around 5th grade.  I used to write letters to a favorite cousin who lived about 30 miles away.  There was no cell phone, Internet, or Skype at that time.  Of course, my parents would never allow me to make a long distance phone call.  I may have rebelled a couple of times, and called my cousin without their knowledge.  If I did, I'm sure I only stayed on the phone a few minutes, otherwise they would certainly have found out.  So, my cousin and I did the next best thing, we wrote letters to each other.  I recall how excited I would be to find a letter in the mail, addressed to me.  I would run to the mailbox, find  the letter, and rip it open.  I probably read those letters over and over.  Then I would sit at my desk and write a letter to her in return.  In my letters, I would answer questions, give her updates, and share secrets.  Not family secrets, I didn't know any of those (none that were interesting enough to write about), but secrets that would be shared between the two of us.  I would send  my letter off, and wait for one in return.  I remember spending an entire summer writing letters to my cousin.

Letter writing seems to be a lost art.  I remember my grandmother writing lots of letters to family and friends who lived far away.  I remember my older sister buying scented stationary to send love letters to her boyfriend.  All of which it seems, is becoming a lost art.  I know that letter writing is still taught in schools.  Yet in the real world, outside of school, how often are kids exposed to the fancy penmanship of a handwritten letter?  Perhaps on occasion.  Maybe not at all.  Don't get me wrong, technology has it's place, and I can barely function when there's a problem with my computers, or there's a power outage, or the $300 bulb on my Smart Board goes out, in my classroom.  However, I feel a bit of sadness at the idea that letter writing may become a thing of the past.  So many boys and girls, will never know the thrill of running to the mailbox in anticipation of a letter   J-u-s-t   F-o-r   T-h-e-m.

Sister's Ring (SOLS #19)

This is a fictional piece I've been playing around with.  I'm not sure where I'm going with this story.  I'm not even sure that this is the beginning.  It could very well be somewhere in the middle.  For now, I just want to see where the story takes me.  Thanks for coming along.

They were not twins but she had always dressed them alike.  The older girl was two years older than her younger sister.  She had never really wanted children, yet she had given birth to six of her own.  The two girls were the last of the lot.  There were two older daughters and a son.  The other boy would only grace this world a few months.  It had almost broken her.  But she managed along for the sake of the others.  Being the eldest of nine siblings, she had grown up being nurse mate to her younger sisters and brothers.  That was when she had secretly decided she would never have children.  Why should I? she thought.  Mama is too busy nursing the new baby to worry about any of these.  These meaning the younger siblings she had helped to raise.  They never went to mama when they scraped a knee or had a cough.  They came to me!  Why do I keep going over this in my head.  It's like ancient history now.  "Ma? Why do we have to dress alike?  We're not t w i n s, you know."  the older girl protested.  "I know, but it keeps down confusion."  she said.

She had come to this town at 19.  Just married and far away from home.  She hadn't wanted to marry him.  But they gave her no choice.  They, meaning her parents.  They would rather have her marry a man she didn't love, than to risk the chance of embarrassment.

The Dry and Dreamy Days of Writing (SOLS #18)

If you are reading this post, you are reading my 18th Slice of Life story.  "Yay!"  When I began this challenge, I didn't know what I was really in for.  My biggest concern was finding an extra bit of time, in my already too busy life, to write.  Well, so far so good.  I have found the time to write, to read slices written by others, and to comment on at least three other posts written by others who have joined this challenge.  I don't know about you, but for me the story doesn't always come easy.  I call these "dry days".  These are the days when I can't seem to think of anything interesting enough to write about. Every story that comes to mind, seems like a story I've already told.  Sometimes, I attempt one or two story ideas, but abandon them for lack of inspiration or desire to write them.

I also have "dreamy days" for writing.  These are days when the story finds me and the writing comes easy. This happened to me on the third day of the challenge. I was dreaming about people holding hands. When I woke up that morning, I had developed most of the story in my head and excitedly ran to the computer to write it down. I love when this happens and I can't wait to see the story unfold before my eyes.

What I enjoy most of all,  is this writing community.  This is a community where it's safe to share your story, to put yourself out there, or try something new.  In this community, writers are boldly telling their stories and sharing slices of their lives, trying out new craft moves, and inspiring others.  Let's not forget the comments.  The comments that are left on your posts are supportive, encouraging, and compassionate.  It feels like...A Community Of Writing Friends.

I have learned a lot about myself as a writer since I joined the Slice of Life Story challenge.  Most importantly, is how this challenged has impacted my teaching.  I teach first grade students who are just beginning to write and live writerly lives.  As I work with my students during writing workshop, I have a new appreciation for how difficult it can be to get started or to come up with ideas for writing.  So, I started reflecting on the Slice of Life challenge.  What was it that helped me?  It was reading stories that other Slicers had written and the comments that were left on my posts.  I started thinking about writing workshop in my classroom.  I must admit, there are days when we run out of time, and my students don't get a chance to share their writing with classmates.  This was something that I NEEDED to correct.  If reading stories written by other writers in my writing community was important to me, it must be important to my students in our classroom writing community.  I'm happy to say that in my classroom I now make time for sharing stories in the Author's Chair on a daily basis.  I'm not saying I found some extra time, but now I "MAKE" time for sharing our stories.  The benefits are worth it and are listed below:

• Inspiration:  Students get story ideas by listening to stories written by classmates
• Audience:  Students enjoy having an audience and sharing their stories
• Craft Moves:  Students attempt new craft moves they saw boldly used by a classmate
• Comments:  Students are encouraged and supported by the comments of their classmates
• Motivation:  Students are motivated to finish pieces so they have something they can share

In my classroom we comment on the stories we hear.  The writer chooses three classmates to share something they liked about their story.  Additionally, they choose three more classmates who have questions about their story.  The questions often help with the revision process.  They remind the writer of details that need to be addressed in their story.  It's similar to what happens during the Slice of Life Story challenge.  The process motivates, encourages, and provides ideas for future writing. 

Positive comments, questions, and demonstrations of new craft moves, help to infuse our writing community with enthusiasm, which encourages writers to continue in the process.

Love Gifts-Straight From the Heart! (SOLS #17)

Have you ever gotten a love gift?  It's a gift from the heart.  The cost is not important.  The size is not important.  The coolness is not important.  Love gifts come in all sizes, colors, shapes, and categories.  The only requirement.....It Must Come From The Heart.

I get several love gifts on a daily basis.  By the end of the week, I have a pile of them.  These love gifts come from my first grade students.  They are sometimes cards, often drawings, and frequently airplanes.  (B.B. is really fond of airplanes and trains.)  Whenever, he makes an airplane for me, he throws in a demonstration for free.  He's always surprised when I say, "But B.B., you forgot to put your name on it. How else will I remember it's from you."  He smiles, and quickly writes his name on his love gift.  Sometimes he remembers on his own and says, "Oh, by the way, I put my name on it for you."  By the end of the month, my counter is running over with love gifts.  Why don't I hang them up? you ask.  Well, I do.  I've run out of both room and wall space.  My office cabinets are covered with these love gifts.  Yes, I have an office in my classroom.  I know, I'm very fortunate in that way.  I love, love, love my office.  I realize they are a rarity, even in my district.  How did I get an office in my classroom?  That explanation could be the topic of another slice.  Thanks for the idea!  Hey, am I talking to myself again?  I do that occasionally :)

These love gifts are so important.  They are not just pieces of paper.  They are tokens of love.  I did the same thing when I was a child.  I recall picking dandelions for my mom and presenting them with pride like they were exotic flowers.  Mom was so nice, accepting them graciously and putting them in water to keep them alive for as long as possible.  Those dandelions were love gifts.  So, I cherish the love gifts I receive from my students.  I know they come from the heart...full of love. 

What love gifts have you gotten lately?

I Need A Band-Aid! (SOLS 16)

My, oh my.  I think I have opened three or four boxes of Band-Aids in the last week.  My first graders can't seem to get enough Band-Aids.  They need one for this, they need one for that.  I can't tell you how many times a day a little one approaches me with an extended finger, showing me a tiny mark that I can barely see.  I've been bombarded with fingers, elbows, ankles, knees, arms, and the list goes on and on.  Mind you, none of these places show one sign of blood.  None the less, they still need a Band-Aid.


It occurred to me that all of us need a Band-Aid from time to time.  After all, Band-aids are for protection.  We place them on cuts to protect them from dirt and germs.  There are lots of things that need protecting.  We protect things that are vulnerable, things that can't protect themselves, and we protect our emotions and feelings.  When it comes to things like feelings, we don't use a literal Band-aid, we use a different kind of Band-Aid.  We protect our feelings with sarcasm, defensiveness, laughter, avoidance, and honesty.

My first graders don't always need Band-Aids to protect their cuts.  Sometimes they need them to feel better on the inside.  A Band-Aid is a relief, a comfort, a soother, a reassurance, it's a "hug" in a tiny strip.  It's a visual reminder that I'm hurt, and an emotional reminder that I have a "hug" on my finger and everything will be okay.

Have you needed any Band-Aids today?

I'm Grateful For... (SOLS #15)

This picture was taken on my drive into work this morning.
As I stopped at a traffic light, I looked up at the sky, and started thinking about some of the things I'm grateful for.


I'm grateful for the morning sky, 
Of streaks of gold,
And sapphire blue.

I'm grateful for the early sounds,
Of Wippoorwills singing,
barely visible among the trees.

I'm grateful for another chance
To make a difference, to teach,
To learn, to discover.

I'm grateful to God,
For family, for friends, for me,
And for the chance, just to be....

Are You The Pain...or the Great One? (SOLS 14)

Have you ever read a book and felt an immediate connection to the story?  As an elementary school teacher, I read lots and lots of children's books.  One of my favorites is, The Pain and the Great One, by Judy Blume.  I have read this book to both first graders and third graders, and the response is the same...an immediate connection.  In the classroom, we refer to it as making a "text-to-self" connection.  This book is perfect for making those kinds of connections because everyone can relate to the characters.

The Pain and the Great One, is a story about sibling rivalry.  The younger brother is "The Pain" and the older sister is the "Great One".  The Pain is like the typical younger brother; the parents baby him, he annoys his older sister by well....by simply being around and in the way, etc.  The Great One is the typical older sister; she can do things easier and better...she IS older after all, and her parents allow her to do more things.

When I read this book to my students, they always identify with either one character or the other.  Even  kids who have no siblings can relate because they have friends or cousins who remind them of the characters.  My students make comments like, "My brother is just like that." or "My sister is the pain in my family."  I always share how I was the "Great One" and my younger sister was "The Pain". 

When I think about my childhood, and how I thought my sister was such a pain, I have to laugh.  I'm beginning to reconsider our roles.  I think that I was the real "Pain" and my sister was probably the "Great One".  It has nothing to do with being smarter or getting more attention.  My sister was the "Great One" because she has always loved me.  Even when I was BEING a pain, because I THOUGHT, I was the "Great One". 

What's your favorite children's book?