>
and bunnies on the tree!
What, you were expecting more of this?
>Please have snow and mistletoe —
1
Monthly Archives: December 2007
>Contingency plans
>Recently, my coworker was suddenly taken ill and sent me an email with lesson plans for the day. The plans were basic, and a bit sketchy, so I dipped into my bag of tricks. My own contingency plans.
A few years ago (it feels like it was just last month), we lost a teaching colleague to bacterial meningitis. It was sudden and heartbreaking. It was also a wake-up call to the rest of us.
All teachers keep a Sub Folder. It has basic information such as attendance routines, a class list, schedule, other teachers who can provide support, and where to find the coffeepot. With our friend’s death, many of us started a new emergency sub folder. We thought, what if we had a car accident on the way to work? What if there was a family emergency? A tornado or fire? How about the possibility of getting stuck with a cancelled flight or being on the other side of a storm front, unable to drive? A sudden unpredictable illness?The possibilities were endless, even frightening, given what we’d just experienced.
Well, a kindred spirit (and companion in grief) suggested we come up with a set of alternate plans that a sub could teach on short notice. I saw the value in her suggestion and grabbed the bull by the horns. Hence was born my Emergency Sub Folder, subtitled “Activities with value for filling time.” One folder has 30 copies of several activities: word searches, spelling practice games, and basic math facts. The other has a collection of master copies; the sub would have to make copies, but there is enough to do that he or she could fill a day and keep the kids busy.
The last part of my plan is this: these folders are on top of my file cabinet, next to my desk, labelled in large letters “Mrs. Flowers’ Sub folder.” An substitute worth his/her salt could walk into my room, find the folders, and teach the day.
I’ve had these folders for four years (out of thirteen years teaching). It’s a little like carrying an umbrella, snow brush, or ice scraper; I hope no one needs to use them, but they’re ready.
>Santa’s a Secret, for now
>In the last few years, I taught in a building where the Secret Santa exchange was a work of art. Aside from the creative gift giving and the sneaky delivery systems, there were the emails.
Mrs. G. “Dear Santa: I have been very good. If you happen to come across a CD of Josh Groban singing ‘Oh, Holy Night’, I’d love to see it under my tree.”
Mrs. O. “Hey, Mrs. G., maybe Santa could send Josh in person to deliver!”
Mrs. H. “Do you think he’d take requests?”
Mrs. McQ. “Who’s Josh Groban?”
Well, we enlightened Mrs. McQ, but Mrs. G. didn’t get her CD. I hope she’s treated herself since then. Josh Groban is an amazing talent, and his Christmas CD will warm the Grinchiest heart.
But this year, I’m in a new school building. The Secret Santa exchange has been creative, but not as heated and suspenseful as I’ve experienced. However, my Santa is sneaky, and has my number, that’s for sure. He or She delivered (by way of a student) a 16 oz. Starbucks Breakfast Blend one Friday at the first bell, and it was still hot. That leaves out all the early birds who arrive long before school — like I do. And…I saw a matching cup sitting on the principal’s desk less than an hour after I got this one. Hmm.
Later that day, a co-worker showed me a Starbucks gift card and asked what kinds of things I liked from Starbucks. He’s not a coffee drinker, and he’d won the gift card as a door prize.
The following week I got a lovely metallic red cappuccino mug, also from Starbucks. Pretty, shiny, and smooth, just like the coffee I put in it.
Then came the sneakiness. I arrived late to a staff meeting (due to a PT appointment), and when I got back to my room, there was a gift bag with Starbucks Christmas Blend, whole bean (Mmmm) nestled within the tissues. This had not been on my desk twenty minutes earlier when I arrived. I think this rules out the principal, as she was running the meeting. My non-coffee drinking co-worker…well, I noticed he (and at least two others) had stepped out of the meeting for a few minutes at one time or another and then come back.
There’s no real evidence, though. I’m not sure who might be playing the Jolly Old Elf, but I know it’s someone with good taste. At least I can tell you the gifts taste pretty darn good!
>Oh, the weather outside is…
>Margalit of What was I Thinking and Mid-Century Modern Moms made me laugh yesterday. Boston has been snowed in, big time, and she talked about the French Toast Alert system. I had to smile. According to Margalit,
“the three items grocery stores continually run out of when a big storm is
announced are bread, milk,
and eggs. What can you make with those three items? Why, French Toast!
Clever, it is not?”
She even has French Toast Alert t-shirts! She grinds her own coffee beans, too, but that’s another story.
I can identify with this philosophy because a) I live in Wisconsin; b) I stock up when a storm is threatening; c) I stock up when the flu season is threatening; and d) I like French toast. When the kids were young and we had very little money, I made French toast often. It was easy and it was cheap. Bread from the day-old bakery store, eggs (on sale if possible), and a little milk, and we had a meal. Breakfast, brunch, or lunch, the family liked it and it was a piece of cake to make. Er, sorry for the mixed metaphor.
My shopping list today also includes ingredients for my annual Gifts in a Jar. I plan to give my co-workers brownie or cookies mixes in canning jars, all nicely wrapped in a (re-used, of course) pretty gift bag. It’s more time-intensive than costly, and my co-teachers will all enjoy the sentiment and the gift itself.
In summary (I’m teaching essay format in Writers’ Workshop right now, can you tell?), the grocery list today will include bread, eggs, milk, and basic baking supplies. Whether the weather be fair or whether the weather be stormy, I’m ready.
>Random Holiday Thoughts
>Husband and Amigo are in the den decorating the tree. Husband just came out to me and suggested a blog post based on “Teachers never need (blank)” and ending with “…to buy candles or Christmas ornaments.” I think he just found the box full of student gift ornaments from the past twelve years.
If anyone wonders why our tree lights don’t reach the bottom branches, just remember we have rabbits.
Yes, I wore geek clothes to school today. My students think it’s totally normal for a teacher to wear a Santa turtleneck under a Green Bay Packers sweater. I think they may be right.
My boss is looking for a Wii. She has had no luck in town or online. Any ideas, folks? She’s a terrific mom and really wants to get this for her daughter for Christmas. I suggested a couple of web sites, but she’d already tried them and they were sold out.
I had an odd dream last night. In my dream, a chair got buried in snow on our front porch. Only the top of its back stuck out of the drift. This was not a deck chair or molded plastic polka-dot type thing; it was a nice, wood, straight backed chair. I couldn’t pull it out without breaking it because the snow was so heavy and deep, but I knew that leaving it buried outside for the duration of winter would ruin it. I woke up wondering why I left an indoor chair on the front porch. Our porch is rather small, too — it would have made more sense to leave it on the deck. We’ve had some snow and some bitter cold days, but nothing resembling Boston’s current storm system. Dream analysts, any takers? Or is this another subliminal thought that is best unidentified?
>It flu the croup…
>Score: attendance 21, tardy 1, ill 3. And those 3 — well, I’m beginning to wonder if I remember what they look like.
One missed most of last week and might be out the rest of this week as well.
One missed three days so far, and may miss more.
The child who was coughing yesterday was out today.
Two more were coughing today. Tomorrow? I’ll wait and see.
Last time I worked with a student teacher, she didn’t see the entire class as a whole entity for the firts five of her eight weeks. She learned how to handle make-up work, preparing it and then correcting and recording vast amounts of it later. It’s a useful skill; I can vouch for that right now. I had no prep time today other than recess, and I gave up one recess to keep a batch of kids in to finish their homework. Then I used the other recess (15 minutes, mind you) to prepare and copy the make-up work for three, leave one packet in the office to be picked up, gave one to a younger brother to take home, and then zoomed upstairs for a speedy bathroom break.
I keep hand sanitizer in my classroom and asked the housekeeper to refill the anti-bacterial soap dispenser. I’ll keep encouraging students to wash their hands and throw their used tissues in the wastebasket. Most parents have been reasonable about recognizing whether their children should be in school or not. That’s something teachers can never take for granted, so I’m very grateful for the families with whom I work.
And as for Christmas? Note to self: add a personal pack of tissues to each student’s gift pack. Hopefully, they won’t need it, and neither will I.
>Trimming the tree
>
>On the nth day of Christmas…
>My students have sugarplums dancing in their heads instead of math facts. They’re dreaming of a white Christmas instead reading strategies. They’re more concerned about getting their snow pants and boots on quickly than finding their homework. If I were a Disney dwarf, I’d be Grumpy.
Maybe.
But it’s hard to be Grumpy when I’m setting myself up for my own holiday Zen, the simple mood-altering atmosphere that gets me in my own Teacher zone and helps me tolerate the Noise, Noise, Noise, Noise! — as the Grinch might put it.
Ingredients:
1 cup (okay, 16 oz., technically two cups) of hot liquid with caffeine
(can be Hazelnut, Peppermint Mocha, or simply the Folgers from the school office)
1 boom box on the table near my desk
1 set of fabulous and unique holiday music CDs
(And when I say unique, I mean it.)
Directions:
Sip lovely liquid.
Revel in taste and warmth.
Turn on lovely and unique tunes.
Take a deep breath (preferably over the mug of tasty fluid).
Then, and only then, turn on computer, check email, and begin to correct papers and finalize lesson plans.
Serves one teacher, well.
And if you’re looking for a little unique holiday music right now, in your cubicle or home office, try this.
The Twelve Days…and more
On a different “note,” my guest post is up at workitmom. You can find it here.
>Oh, the agony
>
I needed a picture for my guest post on WorkitMom. I tried to take one of myself using the bathroom mirror. Disaster; I won’t even show you how bad those looked. I could have scanned a school picture, since teachers get forced to take those every year, too, but I usually throw them away or hide them under stacks and stacks of books and papers. La Petite, chatting with me through IMs, offered to edit as needed with Photoshop. Finally, I resisted bashing Husband on the head for laughing at my feeble attempts, and asked him to take one. He did, and I sent it to Victoria along with a short bio. At least I didn’t wear a Holiday Sweater this time.
But I still like this picture better.
>When she grows up, will she still bring her laundry home?
>La Petite came home for a busy weekend: her birthday celebration, Husband’s birthday celebration, her boyfriend’s sister’s graduation, and (drumroll, please) she’s going to the Green Bay Packer game on Sunday.
To understand just how big this is, you need to know a few things.
- This is a milestone birthday: her 21st.
- La Petite grew up in the shadow of Lambeau Field. Literally. When she drove her boyfriend through the old neighborhood and showed him the proximity of the home to the Packers’ complex, his response was, “Wow. I always thought you were exaggerating. You weren’t.”
- Green Bay Packer games have been sold out since the 1960s. Season tickets get passed down in wills, fought over in divorces, and in general are more vaulable than gold.
- The Packers’ current 10-2 record (and the unspeakable possibility of a major quarterback retiring) have made single game tickets expensive and rare.
- Her boyfriend isn’t a big football fan, and his favored team is (having a poor season) somewhere in Florida.
Well, said boyfriend made connections with his roommate’s girlfriend’s family. They own four tickets, and they’re only using two this weekend. He made them an offer, and they took it. He took a deep breath, called us, and asked if we could chip in. We said yes, absolutely. This kid is thoughtful, sweet, a major character, and he really cares about La Petite. In short, he’s family. If they break up, we might just keep him. (It’s okay, daughter, I’m kidding.)
So she came home Friday night to gather her green and gold and wrap a present for her dad. And as she walked in the door, she politely let me know, “Mom, I didn’t pack any clean clothes. Could you, like, start laundry tonight?”
Well, at least she’s old enough to bring up the laundry baskets and help.