Monthly Archives: February 2008

>I guess I won’t hog the microphone.

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>I’m sharing the stage with the Mayor tomorrow — for about 15 minutes. It’s Read Across America day, and our school is doing it up big. Read Across America celebrates uses Dr. Seuss’ birthday, March 2 as a target date to celebrate the love of reading. Since the magic date falls on a Sunday this year, we’re celebrating on February 29.
It’s a school spirit day, with everyone who cares to participate dressing in Cat in the Hat colors: red, white, and black. I hesitate to waste a casual Friday on a dress-up day, but since I dressed down for the talent show yesterday, I suppose it all evens out in the end. Husband asked if I was Thing One or Thing Two when I pulled out my red and white striped sweater to wear with my black pants. Most years I wear my official Seuss sweatshirt proclaiming One fish, Two fish, Red fish, Blue fish, but it’s a rather thick fleece, and the weather may be close to thirty degrees (that’s positively balmy, for those who were wondering).
So back to the staging of this event. We’ll open with a short talk by the mayor, possibly hear him read The Cat in the Hat, and then I’ll read my own Dr. Seuss tribute poem.
Then we’ll move from room to room and listen to a variety of Dr. Seuss books read by local volunteers and celebrity guests. After it’s all done, and the students have moved back to their classrooms, we’ll have cake. That may be the part the kiddos will look forward to the most! I plan a short period of SSR (Self-Selected Reading, also known as Silent Sustained Reading) to help my highly active class settle down after the excitement. I’d hate to send them home for the weekend wired to the max.
Then again, sending them home on a mild sugar high might be fair enough.
Back to the main topic, I won’t need to worry about upstaging the mayor. He gets top billing.
But can he rhyme?

Update–
I didn’t hog the microphone: he did. There wasn’t time enough for the poem, and I’m okay with that. The students enjoyed all of our guest readers, including two from the public library and one school board member. The board member complimented me on the poem; our librarian had included a copy in his “gift bag” for the day. Well, it’s not major swag like the Oscars, but we wanted to show our appreciation for their time. All in all, it was a good celebration.

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>Random thoughts on getting a passport renewed

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>I gathered everything I could possibly need for this application. Birth certificate, driver’s license, old passport, marriage license, proof of address, and more. I filled out the written form. I packed my checkbook.

It was much too easy.
When I arrived at the office, the official took my old passport, asked to see my driver’s license because my name had changed since the old passport, and that was all she needed.
But did she have to laugh at the photo?
I mean, really, we all looked like that in the late seventies, didn’t we? And the worker handling the application was my age, too. I’m sure her picture would have appeared just as dated as mine, if she had one from that era. The hair carefully feathered back from the face, big glasses with the photosensitive lenses (hot technology, it was), not to mention the plaid shirt with the solid color turtleneck under it. Hey, at least it was in black and white. That shirt had some pretty funky colors in it.

So she took my new photo, showed it to me, asked if it was okay (of course), and then took my money and handed over my receipts.
Sorry, I can’t post the old photo. The old passport is heading off to visit a few government offices while my new one goes through.
But it could be worse — it could be my school picture this year! Now that’s scary.

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>To be truthful…

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The Liar’s Diary by Patry Francis is a compelling and unpredictable story. Jeanne Cross, perfect doctor’s wife and high school secretary, finds herself carpooling with a rather atypical teacher who strikes a chord with her and becomes a close friend. In the process, however, Jeanne ends up witness to events that shock the traditional school gossip channels. The faculty lounge grapevine doesn’t usually dabble in life and death headlines — until free spirited Ali Mather joins the staff. Soon rumors pale in relationship to real life, and Jeanne faces unwelcome truths and unearths skeletons she wishes had remained buried. Her loyalty and her honesty collide with brutal results.
From the opening chapter to the riveting climax, this novel just doesn’t quit. The pacing isn’t a walk or a jog, but a speedy drive on a tight mountainous pass: fast, twisty, and totally on edge.
Don’t read it alone, don’t read it in the dark, but absolutely do read it. The Liar’s Diary is fascinating and enthralling. Patry Francis ties her readers in knots and doesn’t let them loose until the very, very final page.

Note: I received a copy of The Liar’s Diary, no monetary compensation, in order to write this review for MotherTalk.

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>Fear and loathing on the front porch, with ice

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>Remember the lovely icicles on my front porch? They are still there. Or more accurately, they keep coming back. I’ve knocked down icicles twice a day, morning and evening, but there is so much snow and so much other frozen wonderland on our south-facing roof that there will be icicles for a while. Make that quite a while.
Yesterday I was knocking down a batch of these lovely wet stalactites of ours and I startled a woman walking her dog past the house. She saw what I was doing and laughed; I had to laugh back. My icicle obsession seems so pointless.
So why do I bother fighting this losing battle? Safety. When the sun shines on the icicles, they melt. They drip. They drip onto the front steps and the sidewalk, and then they refreeze. This means the very same sidewalk that Amigo uses to get to and from his school bus becomes ice-covered and slick, very slick. This is also the very same sidewalk that the postal carrier and paper deliverer use each day. They need a safe walkway, too, just like Amigo. So in addition to knocking down the icicles, we spread salt and kitty litter on the sidewalk regularly. Husband spent some time chopping and removing the accumulated ice today, so for now the sidewalk is clean.
We’ll see. There’s another storm predicted for Monday overnight.
If I keep fighting these battles, I know eventually I’ll win. Maybe in May?

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>Fur Elise is not for amateurs

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(or) Reflections on a day spent judging piano solos

“Fur Elise” may be a standard, but it’s not easy. When middle school students realize this, maybe they’re stop butchering the piece. Poor Ludwig must be turning over in his grave — or at the least, decomposing.
Student performers introduce their own pieces before they play. This can lead to some interesting statements. “An interesting aspect of this piece is that it’s pretty.” “Something unique about this piece is, um, is, um — I’m sorry, I’ve done six of these intros today and I just can’t remember any more.”
Tears before the festival judge will not improve a rating — but it won’t harm it, either. We only judge the performance.
Excuses for mistakes will not improve a rating, either. See above.
Yes, I did overhear the neighborhood police liaison officer teasing the volunteer by telling her not to spill the donuts or she’d get a ticket.
Festival judges like coffee. At least I do. Keep it coming, and I’ll be more alert for much longer! (That’s a message to the festival managers, not to the performers, by the way.)

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>Kids these days

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>Kids these days. I was frustrated as all get out today, dealing with behaviors that were simply out of line and unacceptable. Most of all, I was sick and tired of dealing with the Diva/ Draft Choice type: those who decide that the rules are for everyone else. For example:
Despite the all-school assembly earlier this week discussing recent thefts and the tightening of rules and regulations, a student followed up immediately after the assembly by walking into the classroom unsupervised. When I reminded him firmly that he had broken the rule that we’d just reviewed, his response was, “But I needed my math book.” A few days later he and a friend turned up at the classroom door before the bell. “Oh, we were first in line.” Even after the principal pulled him into her office and issued a detention, he did it again this morning!! When I confronted him and asked him to tell me the rule about going into a classroom alone, he came back with, “But I needed an overdue book from my desk.” He spent afternoon recess in detention. Again.
Another student has been behaving badly and doesn’t respond to reminders and reinforcement. In fact, he talks back, making excuses and acting like he’s being picked on. The last straw came when I caught him throwing crayons. His “Uh-uh, I was just putting them back in the box!” did me in. He lost our end-of-the week reward, extra recess time, and had a note written to his parents. I know they won’t put up with this kind of rudeness and backtalk, and neither will I.
But really, kids these days. I’ve been allowing a small group to practice their talent show dance in my room at recess. A few of their friends stayed in and washed the chalkboards for me and then re-wrote the day’s date next to the daily schedule with a lovely flourish of well-practiced cursive writing. When I went to erase the board at the end of the day, I noticed they’d added a personal note. “Mrs. DaisyTeacher Rocks!”
Ah, kids these days. Aren’t they great?

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>The kids may grow up, but they still need us…we think.

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>Mid Century Modern Moms is a relatively new voice in the blogging world: the voice of the moms parenting teens and young adults. We are a group of moms of teens, many of us of ‘advanced maternal age’ who are dealing with drivers’ licenses, negotiating through the maze of college applications, and sighing with loneliness once our kids have moved out. We’re an under-represented group in the blogosphere, but not for long.

We’re done with the diapers and breastfeeding vs. bottles, but we still deal with parent-teacher conferences, homework, laundry, and a lot of other parental dilemmas.
The Terrible Twos have been replaced by Teen Attitude.
Diaper rash is now acne.
The “kids” have moved from formula to Mountain Dew.
Child care budgets have been shifted to college tuition.
Forget Disney Princess costumes: we’re dealing with the latest jeans, pierced ears and more, and haircolors not found in nature.

We’re interested in learning which blogs you read that are authored by mothers who are in the throes of the teenage insanity, moms who are guiding young ones on the path to college, and other beyond-the-carseat topics.

Do you know of other bloggers addressing these issues? Please let us know by leaving a comment here or at Mid Century Modern Moms.

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>View from the dining room window of a snowbound Midwesterner

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8:00 AM
Noon

3:30 PM


6:00 PM


I stayed inside, made coffee, read the newspaper, did my homework, read a book, and stuck the camera out the door now and then. Amigo and Buttercup stayed mellow with me. Husband? He was stranded out of town.
The snowplows started coming around at 7:30, and it was still snowing.

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>To read, perhaps to think

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>Charles Schultz created a cute Peanuts cartoon many, many years ago that showed Charlie Brown home from school, tucked in with a cuddly blanket, saying “Happiness is being too sick to go to school, but not too sick to watch TV.”
From my perspective, contentment and calm come from being too sick to teach, but not too sick to read. As miserable as I’ve felt in the past week, the plus side is that I’ve been able to stretch out on the couch with a refreshing beverage by my side, vaporizer on the floor, cozy blankets all around me, and a good book in my lap.
I started with a re-read of the SuperMom books by Melanie Lynne Hauser. I like rereading. I get to refresh my experience with details I might not have noticed the first time, enjoy the hints and foreshadowing, and revel in the writer’s craft. I still laugh at my favorite parts, and I still want a few of those adorable scrubbing bubbles for pets.
I found a complete change of pace with All the Numbers by Judy Merrill Larsen. Maybe it was good that I read this slowly while under the weather. It’s not a book to rush through, to race to the finish. Instead, it’s a book to grasp, consider, examine. Moms face issues in ways non-parents might not understand, no matter how close they are to the families. This story isn’t about motherhood as much as it is about coping, recovering, grieving; facing truths that are not always comfortable. It’s intense and thoughtful, a rich and worthwhile read. But have a tissue box by your side — and don’t way I didn’t warn you.
I was about to start Jodi Picoult’s Nineteen Minutes, something I picked up at the B&N book fair last weekend, but then Patry Francis’ The Liar’s Diary came in the mail so I piled into it instead. I’m only a few chapters in, but the part that’s struck me already is the importance of female friends. Guys may minimize this as “chick talk” or the “housewives eating bonbons” bit, but these friendships make our lives so much richer. A good quality novel, whether for women or by women, will have relationships (good or bad!) between women.
For example —
SuperMom: Carrie. Birdie needed her, and when they were on the outs, it hurt both of them.
All the Numbers: Anna. And more, but mostly Anna. With Ellen being on her own, no husband, even though her parents were emotionally supportive, her friends were her foundation, her rock.
The Liar’s Diary: Granted, I’ve just begun reading this book, only getting a taste of the characters and their relationships. but the friendship between Ali and Jeanne is ripe for growth. Both need a female confidante, both are different enough to be drawn to each other, and both are emotionally needy in their own ways. How that evolves, I have yet to find out.

If I get sick again (no-no-don’t-even think-about-it), I’d better make sure my lesson plans are up to date, and my home bookshelf is full. Better yet, there’s a blizzard on the way into town…the candidates will be stranded here, and (darn) so will I.

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