We like to move it, move it...

For four of my eight years of teaching, I've been in the Freshman Block with Scott and Karen. This is our fifth year together. Scott teaches history, I teach English, and Karen teaches Computer Applications. We are all VERY different teachers. Our personalities and teaching styles couldn't be any more different. But somehow, we work very well together. Basically being in the block means that we share the same kids 4th, 5th, and 6th hours. They rotate between the three of us. It's awesome.

A week ago Friday, we took our kids outside for an afternoon of fun and team building. We had three "academic" competitions, and then a bunch of fun games. For computers, the kids were each given a piece of paper with a key from the keyboard on it. They had to arrange themselves in three rows like a keyboard. For social studies, Scott gave half the kids index cards with states on them and the other half had those state capitals. They had to find their "match." For English, I gave half of them authors and the other half titles of popular young adult novels. The whole afternoon was a blast. Each of us "coached" our fourth hour classes. My team was the blue team, Scott's was the red team, and Karen's was the white team. We had not told the kids what we were going to do, but we told them to wear those colors on Friday if they could. We thought it would be fun to have them all wearing team colors. The day before the events, we decided at the last minute that because some kids may forget, or some kids may not have shirts in the colors we assigned them, that we should get some cloth and cut it into strips so they could wear matching arm bands. That was our intent, anyway. You'll see in the pictures that follow that the kids were far more creative in their placements of the bands. Most of the boys immediately tied them on their heads and then slid them up, going for the "mushroom" look. If there is anything goofier than a 14 year old boy, I'm not sure I know what it is. Many girls put them on like garter belts. One boy wrapped his around the length of his arm, criss crossing it. (That was after I saw it around his neck like a bow tie and freaked out a bit...can you imagine that phone call? "I'm sorry Mr. M, but your son was wearing an arm band that I gave him around his neck, and it strangled him. But he won a point for his team!") Regardless of how they wore them, I was amazed that a simple piece of cloth could be so exciting for kids. It just tickled my funny bone.





I took my camera with me, and managed to catch a few photos. Not nearly as many as I would have liked, but there were a few great ones in the bunch. I was a "judge" for some of the events, so my hands were busy and my attention was not on photo opportunities. But, of the photos I got, the best ones were action photos, taken in quick succession. I have found that I really love the "burst" feature on my camera. It's fantastic for action shots!

One of the funny things we discovered during the hula hoop competition is that kids have VERY different strategies for keeping the hoop moving. Some kids couldn't do it. Some were amazing. Some kids moved their whole bodies. Some didn't even look like they were moving at all, but those hoops kept circling.

I was taking a picture of this sweet young lady in my class when the next hula hoop over caught my attention. (I've blurred the faces of kids to protect their privacy. I used the smudge tool in Photoshop Elements. It was sort of fun to move their noses around, and change their appearances!)






Check out the moves on this kid...






Think he's a show off??





How about now?

Still not convinced?

Look at the kids in the background...their faces are blurred, but it's still pretty obvious several of them are thoroughly enjoying the show...

The ironic part of this all is that he dropped the hoop about three seconds before the end of his time, thereby forfeiting a point for his team.

But they didn't mind. The entertainment was worth it.

I can't wait until our next Field Day. I'm thinking we'll see if we can get him to do the limbo...

From the mouths of babes, part 6

"The best vitamin for making friends is B-1."

'Nuff said.

Is it wrong that...5

Every time we get mail addressed to the both of us, whoever gets it first opens it? Even if it's from the other person's "people"? My MIL sends us packages for Valentine's Day, and other random holidays, and since I'm usually home first and the packages are waiting on the porch, I rip into them without waiting for J to come home.

My friend Leah sends us Christmas cards with pictures of the kids each year. J has only met Leah about four or five times. However, because he is the one who usually brings in the mail, he rips into that card long before I even know it's arrived. I know I should just bring in the mail, and sometimes I do, but usually my arms are full of all the work I've brought home.

Turnabout is fair play, but it kind of bugs me nonetheless.

Wung it?

"Hey, Mrs. H? The past tense of 'wing it' do you say 'we wung it'?" This was the question one of my darling senior boys asked me last week.

Hmm...That's an interesting question. And one that made me stop and think. How would you say that? English is a difficult language. In fact, it's one of the most difficult languages to learn. Oh, and try teaching it to someone. Talk about confusing.

There are so many rules about everything. But there are no rules without exceptions. Trying to teach kids for whom (or is it 'who'?) English is not their first language how to write reminds me of when I taught my sister-in-law, H, how to play cribbage.

We were in my dorm room at college, waiting for Bryce, my high school friend, to come pick us up and take us home to my house. He was in a frat, and apparently didn't know how to tell time. So while we were just hanging out, I picked up the board and asked her if she would like to play. When she confessed she didn't know how, I was determined to teach her. My cousin Brian had taught me when he was 12 and I was 8 because he wanted to play and the adults wouldn't let him join their game.

I think 8 was the right age to learn, and Brian was the right teacher because I just listened carefully and tried to remember all the rules. Cribbage is an incredibly simple game once you learn the basics, but trying to remember all of the crazy rules can be overwhelming when you first start. So, when I was teaching H how to play, I decided to just jump right in and play a game "open" with all of our cards showing. Then I could show her what I was talking about, and as things came up we could talk about them. Sounds logical, right?

Well, H is smart. Very smart. She picked the game up really quickly. But she kept getting frustrated every time I would stop the game to explain a new rule. Eventually, a Jack was cut. I stopped the game once again to explain the "nibs" rule. When a Jack is cut, and it is the starter card, it counts two points for the dealer automatically. I was the dealer that hand. This was the point at which H threw down her cards and said, "Now you're making shit up!"

This morning I was sitting with one of my seniors in my WASL writing class. She has only been in the U.S. for a few years, and while her spoken English is practically flawless, her written English leaves room for drastic improvement. It's very difficult to explain the nuances of the English language in terms kids understand. Especially since I was never really taught grammar myself. For me, language is just intuitive. I don't know why I know something is wrong, I just do. I don't know why it should be a certain way, it just should.

For the most part.

There are times where I get stumped though. One of those times is with certain verbs. For example, swim. I know swim, swam, swimming. When the heck do you use swum? Or another technicality question, I referred to it earlier, what's the difference between who and whom? When do you use affect and effect (I think I do this one correctly, but I have no idea how to explain it to someone else)?

So when B asked, "Hey, Mrs. H? The past tense of 'wing it' do you say 'we wung it'?" I was glad it was an easy question.

"No, B. The past tense of 'wing it' is not 'wung it' - the past tense is 'winged it'," was my response.

"Oh. Thanks, Mrs. H," B responded before turning to his neighbor and saying, "See I told you you were an idiot! She just proved it!"

I'm just glad I didn't prove myself the idiot.

DNA served sunny side up

Five minutes left at the end of 6th hour. I’m not going to try to get their attention back one more time so I can read to them. I just won’t. Pull out my word play overheads and put them up on the document camera. I’m throwing Jolly Ranchers at kids who guess correctly. J, aka “The kid with the coolest last name ever”, comes up to me after school and says, “Do I get one if I can spell a word you can’t?”

I said, “Game on. Whatcha got?”

He says, “Spell deoxyribonucleic acid.”

I said, “Okay. D-e-o-x-y-r-i-b-o-n-u-c-l-e-i-c a-c-i-d.”

He said, “Dang it.”

S said, “J, you just got served!”

I gave him a Jolly Rancher.


Sometimes, I love my job.

Deep thoughts

As if I weren't already too busy, a few weeks ago I signed up for a Professional Development course. I know, I'm crazy, right? Hey, what can I say? I always need clock hours, the presenter is an amazing teacher I've heard about for the last seven years (Ernie Chapin), and my principal offered to pay the $80 fee. What did I have to lose? Other than a few hours of precious time, that is.

Anyway, the class is called "Effectively Dealing with Disruptive Students: Practical, Classroom-proven Techniques." It is from 6-8:30 p.m. for four weeks. I just finished the third week.

I'm thoroughly enjoying my time. Ernie is a dynamic speaker to say the least. He is very random-abstract, which is very hard for me to follow, but I like his stories. I wouldn't say that I'm going to walk away with a bag of tricks to pull out the next time a kid is obnoxious, but he's definitely caused me to think and to reflect. I appreciate that.

Last night I was flipping through the resource handbook, and I came across the following quote.

"I've come to a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or de-humanized."

Haim Ginott
Gold Nuggets

Whoa. That's deep. And a boatload of pressure! I've always believed this, I just never put it in words before. Seeing it written down is powerful - and a little scary. I think this goes for parents as well. We, as adults, have SO much influence over young lives. That's an awesome responsibility. It's humbling, for sure, and a little intimidating as well.

Especially because kids don't always act the way we want them to. But that's the point, right? We have to teach kids what behaviors we want. There are a lot of people who complain about the state of the world. That kids today are horrible. Way worse than we were at their ages.

But really, who do we have to blame for that?

It's time we all take a step back and look honestly at the interactions and relationships we have with kids. If we want to inspire change, we must be ready for that change.

The next time a kid does something that frustrates me or angers me, I'm going to remember this quote and think before I react.

From the mouths of babes, part 5

"I’m good, but I’m no Prima Madonna."

I can't even remember what this particular student was talking about in his or her essay. But this was a classic case of someone trying to use vocabulary that he or she is not sure of. It drives me nuts when people try to sound smarter than they are. Perhaps that is a prima donna attitude to have, but it's how I feel.

Dang it...

I was on a roll. I was doing SO well, blogging every single day for the last month and a half. Since July 27, I have not missed a single day. Since July 3, I have only missed three days, counting yesterday.

I feel bad that I didn't meet my goal of blogging every single day.

If I do more than one in a day, does that count?? It doesn't. Well, in my mind it doesn't, though it does make me feel a little bit better.

It's still the beginning of the school year, but man, it's crazy. I don't have enough time to do the things I have to do for my job, and still do the things I want to do for me. Yesterday I neglected my blog because I am trying to finish a rag quilt I started way back in July. I bought enough fabric for four blankets. Two of them are completely finished. One of them is nearly done, but the strips all need to be sewn together still. It's a slow process for me because I am still a novice when it comes to sewing... The fourth blanket has not even been cut yet.

That's actually why I'm trying to get the one blanket finished. On Saturday I am going to my friend's house for a "cutting" party. We are going to cut the ragging on our quilts, and two of us have material we want to cut for new blankets. It will be a lot of cutting, but it will feel good to get stuff done. It's always more fun to craft with friends!

That's the other problem I have...I have this weird obsessive compulsive deal about school work and fun stuff...I don't do the fun stuff until I'm all caught up with the school stuff. For the most part I am caught up with school stuff right now. This is actually amazing to me. My kids this year are pretty poor writers as a group, and I've been assigning all sorts of essays. My seniors have done one already, and I'm assigning another tomorrow. In the interim, I've had them writing at least one mini-essay a day for the last week. My freshmen are nearing completion of their first essay, too. But, as far as grading goes right now, I just have a stack of 56 essays to read. I need to get it done before Friday because that's when mid-quarter progress reports go out. I want these senior essays to be on their grades because parents see poor grades and help me nag their kids.

I also will be collecting essays from my freshmen on Friday or Monday. Then I'll have 90 essays to read. It's a never ending cycle.

J tells me that the solution is simple: quit assigning so much work. I wish I could figure out a way to teach without assigning work and then grading it. It just doesn't seem possible. Not if I want them to be successful anyway.

Well, I think this needs to be the end of this post. It is lame-o and I know it. Sorry. It's terrible writing, too. I'm complaining here about the quality of writing my kids turn in, and then I crank this out. It's shameful.

I promise more and better soon.

Where did it all come from?

Okay, there are just two of us in this house. Two. And, though we don't always act like it, we're both grownups. We don't have kids, just two cats.

With just the two of us in the house, I'm flabbergasted by the amount of stuff we have.

We have too much stuff.

When I was in college, I moved from dorm to dorm so often I got into the habit of condensing my stuff to fit in stacking drawers and boxes. It made moving 1000 times easier. All I had to do was pick up the boxes and move. Everything I owned fit in the back of my pickup.

When J and I were living in an apartment in Richland, we had a lot of stuff, but it was a small apartment. It seemed normal not to have enough space in a small apartment. When we moved, it was staggering to me the amount of junk we had accumulated. I mean, I used to live (happily, might I add), with just what would fit in the back of my Ford Ranger.

It took us many trips with both my Ranger and J's, plus a friend's Toyota Tundra to move stuff from the apartment into the house we bought right before we got married. When we first moved in, we didn't have enough stuff to fill our house. It was spacious and roomy, and life was wonderful. A little more than 1600 square feet seemed luxurious.

Five short years later, I'm shocked by the amount of crap we seem to have accumulated.

Today I started to clean the kitchen and found I couldn't put away coffee cups - the cupboard was bursting at the seams. How on earth did we acquire so many coffee cups? Perplexing, I know.

A quick perusal of the rest of the house shows me quite clearly that the kitchen cupboards are unfortunately not the only ones bursting at the seams.

I think the problem is that both J and I have real issues with getting rid of things that other people have given us. Even if those things are not anything we like or even use. Periodically, I get so overwhelmed with the stuff in the house that I will do a purge and get rid of as much as I can. But that sure doesn't last long. As soon as I get a cupboard or closet cleaned out, there's more junk to take the place of the junk I just got rid of. It's a never ending cycle.

I love my house, and I love my neighborhood. However, we don't plan to stay here forever. The longer we are here, the itchier my feet are getting. I'm almost mentally ready to leave. The problem is that we don't know where we want to go. I can find a job pretty much anywhere in the state of Washington. J, on the other hand, has a much smaller job market available to him. We keep talking, but no decisions have been made and no plans have been set. The only thing we both agree on 100% is that we do NOT want to live in a big city. We like small town life. We like having a big yard and some privacy from the neighbors. In fact, we'd be even happier with just a bit more land. A full acre or two would probably be just about perfect.

In the meantime, I'll keep working on keeping the "stuff" to a manageable level. Wish me luck.

Important Letter, 2

Dear Seniors,

It’s senior year! I know how excited you are - I'm excited for you. Really, I am. I’ve known some of you since you were freshmen, and I honestly can’t believe how grown up you are! Just a few more short months, and you’ll be done with high school. Ready to begin the next chapter of your life. I'm counting down the days, just like you, but for a different reason. We need to talk.

I love my job. When people ask me what I do for a living, I'm proud to say I'm a teacher. Most people respond positively to that. Teaching is an honorable profession. When they ask what grade I teach and I say high school, the looks of interest usually turn to looks of pity. That’s right: people feel bad for me when they find out I work with teenagers all day. They often shake their heads while saying “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t deal with that.”

Teenagers get a bad rap in today's society. They think you wear baggy clothes that fall off your hiney or clothes that are so tight it’s a wonder you can breathe. You dirty dance, have sex and abuse both drugs and alcohol. You have a limited vocabulary, much of it vulgar. You spend way too much time IMing on the computer and playing video games. You are rude, violent, illiterate and dumb. They would tell you this themselves except you aren’t listening because you have your iPod in and blaring and you’re busy texting thirty-four of your closest friends. And you intimidate the hell out of them. Oh, and did I mention they think you are lazy and have a serious attitude problem?

It’s true. They do think these things. But you see, they don't know you like I do.

When I look at you, my students, those very same teenagers the rest of the world condemns, I don’t see what they’re talking about. When I look at you, I see the future. I see that this world is a better place because you're part of it. I feel blessed to be a part of your life.

I know that you are delightfully clever. You have a sense of humor as developed and sophisticated as any adult’s. You continuously amaze me with your insight and your world views.
I know that you are kind. You gather gifts and donations for charity and those less fortunate than yourself. You hold doors open. You are sympathetic to those who experience loss. You take care of each other and those around you during times of need. You handle yourself with a maturity and grace that amazes me. You look for the good in others. You volunteer in the community. You volunteer in the school. You mentor younger students. You are “buddies” for the severely handicapped. And it’s not just to look good on your college application – it’s genuine.

You are always up for adventure and new experiences. While you don’t always make the right choices, you fiercely defend your right to be independent and make your own decisions.
While most of you still have pretty solid family lives, some of you deal with very grown up situations with a sense of determination that is impressive. Things I wouldn’t have dreamed of dealing with at your age. Pregnancy. Addictions. Parents who kick you out of the house. Friends who die. Depression. Gangs. Parents who leave. Worries about where the money to pay the rent is going to come from because your parents are out of work. Parents / siblings / friends / boyfriends / girlfriends in jail, sometimes for horrific crimes. And through it all, you come to school with a positive attitude and do your work. Often without anyone else knowing about the dilemmas you face. You amaze me each and every day.

Have I made it clear how much I love you? Okay, good. Now that we have that established, let's chat about a few things that will make our year much easier. There are a few issues that have come to light in these first few weeks we’ve spent together.

1. Put. Your. Cell phone. Away. I am dead serious in this matter. There are many rules I would consider bending, but this is not one of them. I really don’t care if any of your other teachers let you use your cell during class. I’m not one of them.

2. I’m SO tired of saying this, and I can’t believe I have to say it to seniors: there is NO food or drink allowed on the carpeted areas. This is not a new rule. Freshmen can possibly get away with pleading ignorance on this matter, but not you. Don’t bring your Starbucks to class. Not only is it against the rules, but it’s a waste of your money. Besides, don’t you know that stuff will stunt your growth?

3. You’ve got to admit that there may be some truth to the iPod / cell phone addiction thing. Put it down for a minute and look around you. Your friends are awesome, and it’s important to stay in touch, but does it have to be every five minutes? And when you put in your earbuds, you may be retreating to a place you are comfortable, but you’re missing out. There are some pretty great people all around you, and they’re doing great things you may want to be a part of…you just need to pay attention.

4. I know you think you write better when you just write a final draft and skip all the brainstorming / prewriting “crap” we devoted two entire weeks to, but I’ll let you in on a secret: you’re wrong. You don’t write better when you sit around and talk for two weeks then throw something together at the last minute. Don’t complain about your grade, either. I’m not in the habit of babysitting seniors. You made your choices, live with the consequences. This may seem harsh, but it’s not. It comes from a place of love. I love you, remember? But this is your senior year, and it’s my last chance to teach you some responsibility in addition to the English they pay me to teach. Consider it a bonus for you. No charge. (You’re welcome.)

5. By the way, this class is not hard. It’s really not. If your last two English teachers have not expected much from you, that’s really too bad. I have high expectations because I know you can meet them. If you’ve had two “cake” years, then we really have our work cut out for us. Sit down, buckle up and hang on.

6. Remember the Natasha Bedingfield song we talked about on the first day of school? The one with the lyrics that talked about the future being “unwritten” and it was up to you to write it? Well, let’s begin writing your future by passing Advanced Communications. Don’t leave the page unwritten. Or the essay. Or the journal assignment. For crying out loud, just do your homework. I promise it won’t kill you. It won’t even cut into your social time…much. But if you spent less time in class texting and doing the work, you’d have more time outside of class to actually see your friends face to face. Chew on that for awhile.

And finally,

7. You, and only you, are in charge of your destiny. I know it sounds trite, and a little cliché, but I honestly believe that you can be whatever you want to be. I’m going to do my best to help you get there, but you have to be the one to do the work. I can’t want it for you…you have to want it. Believe in yourself. I do.

Love, The woman who is grateful for the chance to be a part of your life, no matter how small, and wouldn't have it any other way

Is it wrong that...4

I ask J to tuck me in and bring me a glass of water every night?

Don't freak out - I have a good reason. Let me explain.

J is 7' tall. That's right, folks. I said seven feet tall. In case I haven't told you before, that's freaky tall. You'd think that because he is freaky tall we would have a freaky large bed. We don't. We have a plain old regular queen sized bed. That means that my husband has to fold his crazy long legs up and sleep in a modified fetal position. That also means we can't tuck the sheets in at the bottom of the bed. It's not comfortable for him. If he does stretch out for a bit, his feet get all tangled up and twisted in the sheets. That drives him crazy. I understand this. However, when it comes to sheets on the bed, I have issues.

Sheets MUST be straight and smooth at all times. If they get bunched up or twisted, it seriously puts me over the edge. I can't sleep and I'm cranky. We're talking downright irrationally and unfairly cranky. And it doesn't last for a minute. It lasts for a long time. If you don't believe me, just ask J. He's not afraid to tell the truth...even when it doesn't paint me in a nice light.

Don't ask me to explain this weird princess and the pea behavior. I can't. It's just the way I am. I blame my parents.

But I digress. Because I have sheet issues, and because my husband has height issues, we have had to come to some sort of compromise. The compromise is this: I go to bed earlier than J. When I am ready for bed, I call him and he comes in with a glass of water for me, and then he does what we refer to as "the blankie thing" and basically makes the bed with me in it. He just skips the step where most people would tuck in the sheets at the bottom.

I'm pretty satisfied with our arrangement, but I can't speak for J. Actually, I don't want to know if he's okay with it or not...I don't want him to stop doing it! So don't go putting any crazy ideas in his head, okay? Truth be told, I think it's fair he fixes the blankets. This way we both get to sleep comfortably. But honestly? I'm sort of pushing it by asking for the water, too, though I'll never admit to saying that...

It's good to be a Sun

I went to Southridge's first home football game of the season last Thursday. What fun! I loved going to football games in high school, and I still love it now. In fact, I would rather go to a high school sporting event than a professional one. Football, basketball, baseball, wrestling, volleyball. It's all better when it's kids.

There's just something so innocent about it. So heartfelt. Do you know what I'm trying to say? The kids are playing because they still love the game. They aren't jaded professionals just in it for the money. (I know that not all professional players are jaded and just in it for the money...but there are a lot of them, you've got to admit.) There's an excitement that's contagious.

Plus, I think I know what their parents must feel like. Every time I see a kid from my first hour class make a great catch, it makes my heart swell with pride. Or when the boy from my second hour class runs like the wind and dodges four other players, I find myself on my feet yelling and clapping wildly.

Thursday was no exception. SHS played Sunnyside. It was a blowout. We scored two touchdowns in the first two minutes of the game. The score was 21 - 0 at the end of the first seven minutes.

It was obvious at that point that the game was going to be pretty lopsided. So our coach did the right thing - the honorable thing - and put in the second string. Not only did it give those kids some playing time, it gave the starters a bit of a rest and, in theory, leveled the playing field a bit. Unfortunately, that didn't work very well, either. By halftime, the score was 35 - 0.

I REALLY abhor it when a coach runs up a score. Especially in high school sports. There's no reason for it. Get yourself a comfortable lead, and then back off. You'll never convince me that it's good to rub another team's proverbial nose in it. They are kids. I know there has to be a winner and a loser at a sporting event, but win or lose, we should be teaching the kids sportsmanship.

The problem last Thursday was that our head coach was doing everything in his power to make it a fair game without being insulting. He put in the third string quarterback, and took every single starter out. By the end of third quarter, the score was 56 - 7. At the beginning of the fourth quarter, I saw Coach had removed his microphone headsets thingy. I looked at the other coaches and saw they had removed theirs as well. Then I looked a little further down field and saw two of my seniors, still dressed in full football gear, wearing the headsets. I thought maybe they were just goofing around. But I was wrong. They were actually coaching. Hand gestures and everything.

It was cool to see B and T making the calls and leading the plays. When kids step up and take leadership positions, it makes me smile.

The game was sad, though. It was at the point where even our students were cheering when Sunnyside made a good play. While I felt bad for them, it was pretty cool to see our kids. Talk about giving me shivers. For kids be so mature and kind like that warms my heart from the inside out.

From my vantage point on the 50 yard line, right under the announcer's booth, SHS kids are a class act.

It's good to be a Sun.

I've been tagged!

Leah tagged me for a "Getting to know you" meme.

Here are the rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you.

2. Post the rules on your blog.

3. Write 6 random things about yourself.

4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.

5. Let the person know you tagged them on their blog.

6. Let the tagger know when you've posted.

This is going to be hard for me because I tell you stuff about myself all the time, but here we go:

1. My favorite episode of Will and Grace is when Jack and Grace take a tea pot to the Antiques Roadshow. They make fun of people who take things on the show thinking they are worth a lot of money, and then are disappointed to find out they are worthless. So Jack and Grace go spend a few bucks on a tea pot, make up a crazy story, and practice their "oohhh, too bad" faces. Much to their surprise, though, they find that the tea pot is extremely valuable. Many thousands of dollars valuable. Then they fight over it and break it. I don't know why I love it so much, but I do.

2. I have a secret desire to be a stand-up comedian. I LOVE to make people laugh. If I didn't have such stage fright, I'd totally do it. Well, maybe. There's that whole funny thing. I guess if I was funny AND I didn't have stage fright I'd do it.

3. I wish I could sing. My husband barely tolerates my singing. He usually doesn't make mean remarks, but one time, he did. We were in college still, and we were driving somewhere with my roommate (she's the only one with a car). We started taking about singing abilities, and J told me that I sounded like a sick cat. Ouch.

4. I have a large vocabulary and I love words. I can spell like you wouldn't believe. However, I have significant trouble pronouncing many words. Abominable is one of those words. A few years ago I was working with the three freshman reading classes, the kids who weren't reading on grade level, and I was trying to say "Abominable Snowman." I stumbled over it about nine or ten times, much to the kids' delight, before I finally got it out. My friend told me later that while I was struggling, one of the young men tapped her on the shoulder, leaned forward and whispered to her "And you think WE need the reading class..."

5. I hate my hair. It's too dark (except for the gray hair, of which there's too much). Too thin. Too curly. Too blech. I am never satisfied with it. It's either too short or too long. Too puffy or too flat. I wish I liked my hair. It would make my mornings much easier. But, I don't.

6. I am a pack rat. I have a very hard time throwing stuff out. I end up with multiple junk drawers full of junk that doesn't ever get used. Ever. But I still can't get rid of it. It's this guilt I carry around with me (thanks Mom) that doesn't allow me to clean the crap. When I finally do get over the guilt long enough to clean, I have to do it fast and then forget about it. Or else I will feel bad about something that should make me feel good.

There. I think those are all new items. I hope so, anyway. I don't really have anyone to tag...but if you want to play along, let me know and I'll tag you!

From the mouths of babes, part 4

"If it weren’t for my sense of humor, I’d have no sense at all."

This is pretty much my motto during the school year. When there's nothing left to do but laugh or cry, it's always better to try to laugh. Never let 'em see you cry!

Wrong number

One of my biggest pet peeves is caller id. I know, I know. You're thinking that I'm lying to you now. Because just recently I told you that I screen my phone calls. It's true, though. I both love and hate caller id. Let me explain why.

I love caller id becuase it allows me to choose when I should pick up the phone and when I should just let it ring. I'm able to ensure that I have enough time to talk to the person on the other end. And it allows me to skip the telemarketer calls.

On the other hand, since everyone in the known free world owns a cell phone, and they all come equipped with caller id, I hate it. I hate it because people are no longer clueless about who has called them. There is a call log of every single person who has dialed their number, whether it's the right one or not. And, it seems like more and more people can't just leave well enough alone. They have to KNOW who has called them. The MOST annoying phone call in the world starts off, "Hi, you called my phone?"

Last Thursday I was trying to call my mom. I've had my cell phone for about four months now, but I have yet to put anyone on speed dial other than J. So I'm in the car, with my bluetooth on, trying to dial my mom's phone number. I press talk, and then glance down to make sure the phone is connecting. Well, on my screen it says "Washington" instead of "Mom" and I realize I dialed the number wrong. Instead of 318, I dialed 315. Oops.

The phone did not even complete one entire ring before I realized my mistake, so I quickly hit end and hung up.

Not even three minutes later my phone rings. It was the wrong number, calling me back! Are you kidding me? I ignored it, because I don't know the number. Seems like the logical thing to do, right? I know I don't know these people.

Apparently, they think they know me. Or they think they want to know me because they called back a second time.

I answered this time, because I'm assuming that they are going to keep calling until I do.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Yeah, you called my phone. What do you want?" replied World's Biggest Busybody.

"I was calling someone else, and realized I had the wrong number. So I hung up before anyone picked up," I explained - unecessarily because who really calls back?

"Who were you looking for?"

"My mom."

"Oh, well, you've got the wrong number."

"Actually, I already knew that. That's why I didn't complete the original call. As a matter of fact, now you are the one with the wrong number," I said.

"Oh, sorry."

Yeah, I'll bet you are. And don't be mad at me that you just wasted five minutes of your life that you'll never get back. It's your own fault.

Is it wrong that...3

I subject J to three episodes of Big Brother 10 a week during the summer and into the fall? Well, two, really. He watches Eureka on Tuesdays so he can't watch BB10 with me.

He pretends to hate it, but he's full of it. In fact, just this past Tuesday I was at a continuing education class and was not even home to turn it on. When I called J to tell him I was on my way home, he said, and I quote, "I know who got kicked off Big Brother this week!"

That's right, folks. He "hates that stupid show" but he watched it. All by himself.

Shhh....don't tell him I told you, okay? Besides, if you ask him, he'll deny it flat out. He'll say he just happened to turn the channel and catch the eviction ceremony. He'll say watched it just because he wanted to find out who was evicted because he knew I'd want to know. He'd say all that, but he'd be fibbing.

He likes it. He just won't admit it.

I'm a convenient excuse for him to watch a lot of stuff he normally couldn't get away with. Like Legally Blonde over and over again. Or Project Runway (he was totally addicted to season 2 or 3, whichever one had Santino).

He uses me that way. But I'm okay with it. I tell people I read all kinds of YA fiction so I can be "hip" to what my kids are reading. But that's a big fat lie. I like the stuff, plain and simple. It's just a good reason for me to read it, and people don't think I'm weird when I do. They are impressed that a teacher would go to so much trouble. Be so selfless as to part with her hard earned cash and time to do something for kids.

So I'll be J's cover story if you'll believe mine.

Too old for this stuff...

The older he gets, the more J complains about various aches and pains. It doesn't stop him, however, from playing golf, basketball or softball whenever he gets the chance. As a kid, J played a lot of baseball and basketball. Basketball is definitely the game he loves the most. Truth be told, however, golf is his game of choice at this stage of his life. While he still loves basketball and baseball, they are too hard on his aging body for him to play very often. (Sorry J...but you know it's true!!) If we're in town, he plays golf almost every Sunday during spring, summer, and fall with the same group of guys. They play into the winter as long as they can, but it gets wickedly cold here, so they do have to stop at some point.

A few years ago J was given the chance to play basketball on a team his company put together. I'm not sure how it happened, but they traveled from the Tri-Cities all the way to Portland to play. I happened to be living with my parents and student teaching at the time, so we drove three and a half hours south to watch my guy play. It was pretty cool! I had heard stories for a very long time about how he played, but I had never had a chance to see it myself.


You know me, though. I can't just leave well enough alone. When J told me he was going to play basketball for a team his company was putting together, I couldn't resist teasing him. I gave him a bad time about how they only picked him because he is freaky tall. And, at that point, he was the youngest person in his office by 10 years or more. So, of course, I made sure to speculate about how age factored in, too.

I'm sorry. I know some of you may think it's mean, and that I should not tease him so much, but I can't help it. It's who I am. Once you get to know me, you know that teasing is one of the ways I show I love you. If I don't tease you, I'm not comfortable with you. (It doesn't mean I don't like you, it just means I don't know you well enough to give you a bad time.) Given the amount of teasing J puts up with from me on a daily basis, it's pretty obvious I love him best of all the people in this world. (Does that make up for the aging body comment I made earlier?)

I know J likes to play basketball, but at that point he hadn't played in several years in a real game. He didn't hesitate to sign up, however. Did I mention that the guy organizing the team sought him out in particular?? I think J got some sort of secret pleasure out of being a 7ft. tall young ringer on a team with fat old company men. That's what I accused him of, anyway!


It was a lot of fun to finally get a chance to see him in action. He looks so YOUNG!! And tall. He really looks tall. Look at those long arms and legs. If he were one of my students, I'd call him spindly. Or skinny. How about gangly? Angular? Gawky? Rangy?

Because I don't want to hurt his feelings, (and I don't want you to think I'm mean) let's go with lanky. Lean and lanky. But sturdy. And muscular. Solid. (And I mean SOLID...his legs look skinny, but they are all muscle!) Cute. Athletic. Hot. Yeah, that's a good one. Hot.

This word game could continue for days. Weeks. Months. Years. Decades. Eons. Ages. Eternity. (Sorry. I'm an English teacher, and I'm in school now. My brain is working overtime.) So let's just quit while we're ahead (sort of) and call him what he is: special. But in a nice way, not in a special ed way.

Don't get your panties in a twist. And don't chastise me. I'm just teasing.

Kind of.

Just know that teasing is just another way of saying: I love you, J. Forever and always.

Here is - finally - the photographic proof that J was the tallest, youngest, hottest guy on the court with a bunch of fat old guys from his office. He was about 25 or 26 in these photos.

Santa Claws

As I have mentioned about a million times, J and I don't have kids. We want them, but we are not parents yet. In the meantime, we expend a lot of time, energy and attention on our cats. They are our furry children...sort of.

Anyway, I was at my mom's recently, digging through her drawer of old photographs and I came across this one. J and I had taken Zoe to get her claws clipped at PetSmart (back before we had Sid and before I was brave enough to clip her claws myself). When we arrived, we were simultaneously horrified and delighted to find that we could have Zoe's picture taken with Santa Claus! The photo shoot cost $7, and you got two copies of your Polaroid picture. The profits went to local animal welfare. We thought it was ridiculous, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to have Zoe sit with Santa.

If he asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she didn't tell us...

Hallmark cards rock, pt. 7

Back by popular demand (and a particularly stressful day at school!!) - part seven of my collection of my favorite Hallmark cards! You can see part one here, part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, and part six here.

Can I tell you how much I hate IM speak?? Especially when kids write it in their essays. It drives me insane. I'm saving this for an English teacher friend. I'm not sure who yet, but I'll figure it out.

This one may go to my dad. He LOVED the show Cheers. My sisters and I grew up watching it. (*This was blank on the inside...)

It's too bad I showed this one to J already. It would be perfect for him. Beer, job complaints. It's as if they had him in mind when they created this card!

This could be for just about anyone I know who hates their job. If you consider yourself to be one of those people, this one's for you!

From the mouths of babes, part 3

Recently I did a huge spring cleaning of our file cabinet. It was overflowing and there was way too much junk bursting out of the seams. You see, both J and I tend to save paperwork. We have a hard time shredding stuff. I'm not sure why.

Anyway, I overhauled the file cabinet, and as I was going through stuff, I found a paper that I have kept for a few years.

When I first started teaching, I was offered the chance to go to Arizona to help score the 10th grade writing WASL. It was an interesting process, but at times, it was mindnumbingly dull. There were a few quotes, though, in kids' essays that were worth remembering. I'll share my favorites with you over the next week or two.

Here's the first one: "You only get out of life what you put in….you know what they say: Life is like one big change machine at the arcade." (Anonymous 10th grader from five or six years ago.)

Now if that doesn't stop to make you think, I don't know what does. As the queen of mixed metaphors, there's just something about this quote that makes me smile.

I love you, too

When J and I got married, we went to the Oregon Coast for our honeymoon. We were only there for a few short days, but we had a blast. We went to Fort Stevens, where I used to camp all the time as a kid. It was kind of fun to go back, and this time with my husband.

I've talked before about how J and I have very different beliefs about camping, but I'll summarize them again here: I like to be in an established campground with running water. If we are in a trailer / motor home with electricity, a stove, a fridge and a door that locks, it's that much better. J believes that vault toilets are an unnecessary luxury, and if there is another single living soul within a fifteen mile radius, you're way too close to others.


We compromised for our honeymoon, and camped in a tent in a real campground. He got to experience hikes through the woods each evening when he had to walk me to the bathroom. Hey, he knew long before we got married that I was a chicken. The fact is, he takes some sort of sick pleasure out of terrifying me with camping horror stories. So I don't feel bad at all that I make him walk me to the bathroom and wait for me outside. If it's a vault toilet, he has to check it the first few times before I will even use it. Don't feel bad for him, though, it's his fault. Really.

Anyway, we had a lot of fun on our honeymoon. We walked on the beach, we visited Battery Russell, we drove into Seaside and played Fascination. We drove down to Canon Beach and took pictures near Haystack Rock. We sat on the beach and people watched for a few hours. Then, we went to Moe's and had dinner on the deck and watched the sun go down over the ocean. Way cool, and about as romantic as the two of us get.





While we were waiting for the sun to go down, we took goofy pictures of each other. Here are two of the least embarrassing...

J was really sweet when we were on the beach. We took a few pictures of each other, and then he grabbed a stick. He started writing a message in the sand, but wouldn't let me look until he was done. Here's what he wrote:

I thought that was really sweet, but then he topped himself with another idea. He wrote our names and wedding date in the sand, and then we posed for a self-portrait. How cute and creative was this picture? It's one of my all time favorites!






All in all, our honeymoon was a lot of fun. There were a few tense moments (remind me to tell you sometime about the hot dogs and putting up the tent), but we had a great time.

Stuck in gear

"Like a ten-speed bike, most of us have gears we do not use." -- Charles Schulz

Man, does this quote apply to me today! There was SO much on my to-do list, but virtually none of it has been accomplished. The only thing I have done today is laundry. I didn't touch the grading I've been trying to get done for the last two weeks. I didn't edit either of the books I'm going to read with my freshmen classes. I didn't plan for the week with my seniors. I didn't clean the bathroom. I didn't clean the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, or the computer room. I didn't dust or vacuum. I didn't change the bedding (but I may still do that in a few minutes here). I didn't go grocery shopping. I didn't do the dishes. I didn't swim in the pool. I didn't choose clothes or iron them for tomorrow or the rest of the week. I didn't pack a lunch for tomorrow. I didn't finish my third rag quilt that's been neglected for almost a month now.

I'm totally stuck in gear, and wishing I could get it together. Oh, well. There goes another weekend. Tomorrow will be a new day, and I'll be better then.

As long as I don't get the cold that J is coming down with...keep your fingers crossed!

Thumbs up, thumbs down

Thumbs up to:


1. Vera Bradley bags - My sister's friend works at Vera Bradley, and we stopped in to visit her at her new job back in June. That's the first time I was introduced to Vera Bradley bags, and I fell in love. They are adorable! Last weekend when we were back in Seattle, J said I should get one for carrying my laptop to and from school. The school district upgraded computers and I was able to choose a laptop...very convenient, but the bag they provided is not useful. It only holds the computer, and it's big and bulky. I didn't want to have to carry two bags, so J and I picked out a Vera Bradley bag! I think it's adorable, he thinks it's so gaudy not even his Grandma from the South would carry it. Whatever...it was WAY cheaper than the Coach bag he suggested before he thought about it!


2. Weekends - I'm SO glad it's the weekend! J and I went on a real date last night, and it was nice. We spent today just goofing off and doing whatever we felt like. Tomorrow I will be back to school work and he will be back to yard work, but today was a lazy-do-whatever-you-want day. We've almost completely beaten Indiana Jones Lego! We're nowhere near close on Star Wars, and we're excited for Batman to be released at the end of this month!


3. Harry and David's strawberry creme licorice - It's yummy. It's probably a good thing that I can't find a way to order it online. And that the nearest Harry and David's is several hours away. I'm pretty sure I am addicted to that stuff! On the upside, it's a fat free treat, and relatively low calories compared to a lot of other candies.


4. BarnesandNoble.com - Laurie and I needed copies of several books we want to share with our freshmen as read alouds. We need to do some language and topic editing, though, so we each need our own copies. Don't want to deface a library book you know! In the Tri-Cities we have a Barnes and Noble, two Hastings and a local used book store with two locations. We called ALL FIVE bookstores in the Tri-Cities and came up completely empty handed. So we turned to the internet. For the first time ever, Amazon let me down, but Barnes and Noble.com saved the day! Barnes and Noble was $10 cheaper in just the cost of books. Plus, their shipping was free and guaranteed in three business days. Amazon must be really busy right now because their three day shipping was $30 and they didn't guarantee it within three days...they approximated a three week delivery date! Barnes and Noble came through, though, and saved us more than $40. Even without using my educator's discount!


5. Sex and the City - I have never seen this show, but both of my sisters love it. I borrowed Seasons One and Two from T last weekend, and have seen about four episodes now. While I am not completely sold yet, I am enjoying it so far! I'll let you know how I feel after I finish the first two seasons!

Thumbs down to:

1. Tropic Thunder - How on earth has this horrible movie been a box office hit for the last three weeks? J and I went to see it last night and neither of us were all that impressed. J liked it more than I did. I fell asleep about half an hour before the end. It was terrible. I should have known better - it was rated R after all. R for ridiculous and really offensive and raunchy and wRong.

2. Washington State University's football team - Okay, losing last week to Oklahoma State was embarrassing. Losing today to California was humiliating. Final score: WSU, 3 and Cal 66. That's not a football score, that's basketball. Some days I'm not proud to be a Coug.

3. Never-ending political campaigns - Though I'm intrigued by the candidates and their running mates, it seems like this presidential campaign is never going to end. It makes for some heated conversations in the Hocking household, too. J and I basically cancel each other's votes, so you can imagine what it's like around here lately! I love him, but man, do we have different viewpoints on nearly EVERY topic.

Don't judge a book by its cover

Sometimes teenagers can be so self-centered and so self-absorbed that I'm amazed. They can't see beyond their own wants and desires to what anyone else needs.

But that's rare.

More often, I am amazed at how insightful and thought-provoking and incredibly sensitive they are. They are kind, and funny, and caring.

As an English teacher, I think I get to see this kind and caring side of them more than most other adults they come into contact with. I get to read journal entries and have great theme based discussions with them. It's one of the perks of my job. It helps offset the incredible amount of time I spend grading essays and other work.

Every now and again, when I'm reading what they've written, I come across a gem that makes me stop and take notice.

Like these words of A's - "You should never judge somebody before you get to know them. You never know: they could become your favorite hello and your hardest goodbye."

Rock on, A, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Um, no. But thanks for trying.

Last spring, I was working with my freshmen on a short story unit. We were talking about all the parts to a short story. The exposition, the rising and falling action, the climax, conflict, etc. We were nearing the end of the unit, and I was doing a brief review of what we'd gone over already, and then we were going to talk about the last element of a short story that we hadn't covered.

I asked students to list every element of a short story they could think of, and I wrote them on the white board as they were calling out the answers. I kept asking for more, until they finally couldn't think of a single thing more. They got everything except for the one last element. I decided to give them a hint.

I said, "I think you've got it all except one. There's one more element of a short story that I can think of, and it starts with a 'd' - can you think of it?"

Dead silence for about fifteen seconds as they are searching the depths of their brains. I'm about to give them a second clue ("It's another word for people talking...it starts with a 'd'...") when J raises his hand.

I called on him, "J, what's the missing element that starts with a 'd'?"

"Um, is it 'da end'?"

Um, no. It's not. But thanks for guessing.

And thanks for keeping my job fun.

We're famous

Here's the proof:




Okay...maybe we're not famous, but we're definitely cute!

Say Cheese!

For as long as I can remember, every time we pose for a picture (including my wedding pictures), my sisters always tell me, "Do a REAL smile. Not that stupid, goofy smile."

It annoys the heck out of me. What do you mean, do a real smile? I'm smiling for crying out loud. I've tried every single thing I can think of over time. I've smiled extra big. I've smiled halfway. I've laughed right before the photographer pushes the button. I've opened my eyes big. I've practically closed them. I've tilted my head up, I've tilted it down. I've stretched my mouth so wide you'd think I'd shoved a banana in there sideways.

You name it, I've tried it.

But when the pictures come back, I've always got the same stupid grin on my face. I recognize it when I see the pictures, but when I smile in conversation, or when I practice in the mirror or in front of other people, my smile always looks normal. Believe it or not, but nobody has ever stopped in the middle of a conversation to tell me my smile looks stupid.

So why does it always turn out that way on camera?

It may be one of life's unanswerable mysteries. Like where do the missing socks from the laundry go? Or when a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound if there's nobody there to hear it?

As I've looked through pictures from different stages of my life, though, I've come to realize that I've had that same dorky smile for my entire life. Apparently my face was just built crooked. That's about the only explanation I can come up with.

Upon further investigation, I've discovered that I may come by the stupid smile honestly.

Thanks, Dad.