Oprah says that life speaks to you in a whisper.  I have a hard time paying attention to the whispers, even though I do believe that things don't usually just happen to people out of the blue.  Our lives are so cluttered with obligations, technology, careers, family, relationships and general noise that quiet intuition is so hard to hear.  It's not hard, however, to come up with a list of gut feelings I've had, even thinking over only the last week.  From the whisper telling me to keep someone I love from having another drink, to something that said this student is not JUST having a bad day.  One feeling I ignored and the other I acknowledged, and the results were obvious.

The loudest whisper I've heard in awhile happened yesterday, and I won't be avoiding the message.  I left Mom's house to drive home to Rockwall, and had not made it out of the neighborhood before I turned around to find Hazel asleep.  As I turned back around to face the road, I saw a little boy on a bicycle riding in the middle of the street, heading toward my front bumper.  He was enjoying the day, oblivious to my presence.  Because I was paying attention, I had enough time to move over and avoid hitting him, but if I had been texting, or tending to Hazel, or choosing a new album for the ride home, I would have probably killed him.  I had a flash in my mind of how my life could have changed in that instant.  I saw myself holding that kid in the street while Hazel screamed from her car seat.  I imagined his parents and paramedics arriving on the scene.  I shuddered thinking about how many times I've heard the whisper telling me to pay attention while I'm driving and let everything else wait for later.

I will block out the noise.  I will NOT take my eyes off the road.

Kids say the dumbest darndest things.  We are reading the play, The Tell-Tale Heart, and I am trying to get my students excited about it.  I tell them it's about GUILT and MURDER and...Front-Row Joe interrrupts me and asks "Is this the friendly kind of murder?"(Blank stare from me) "Because I don't really like nice murder.  You know, where they hold pillows over their faces and stuff."  This is going to be a long day. 

Whatever it is

Because I'm sick, I'm dusting off my blog.  While Hazel plays in the backyard, I'm sitting with the laptop, considering my 1/3 life crisis or whatever it is.  Lou Reed was right about today.  It's perfect.  So beautiful in fact, that any stress I am feeling right now seems unreasonable.

Things are good at home.
Football season is a blessing.  I get three months of the year to reflect on and appreciate what a great husband I have and when I start to forget it or take him for granted, August comes around again and I, like football widows everywhere, get ready to hold down the fort until the holidays.  As hard as this time of year is, I know for sure that it keeps my marriage strong.

Work is fine.
Moving back from AVID to 6th grade has been a unique challenge.  I was shut off in a corner of the building last year, lumped in with the other elective teachers, so nicely forgotten about by administration and anyone else who cares about teacher accountability and/or test scores.  I had no department meetings, no one to plan with and no assessments to prepare for.  I taught my students about how fun college can be.  I taught them how to shake hands properly and resolve conflict.  I helped them get into magnet schools by helping write essays and prepare for interviews.  We asked high level questions and had debates about things that mattered to them.  I did what I wanted and no one ever questioned my methods or told me I needed to fill out a focused instructional planning form.  All of my students passed their writing test in April.  No one cared or mentioned it, and I was HAPPY.

Teaching reading is...different.  Pressure and teacher accountability are high.  I plan with a team and we are expected to be doing the same thing on any given day.  I got used to being an island, and now I'm landlocked in tornado alley.  I am back to being surrounded by coworkers, while my social interactions last year were minimal.  I thought I was lonely before, but at this point I'd like to go back to my cave.  People are too complicated.  Teachers are TOO complicated.  Not to be misunderstood, I'm happy this year.

Soooo, the stress?  I don't know why I'm anxious, or maybe I do, but it doesn't matter so much why.  What I know for sure is that I just need to KIT.  My life is good, and being thirty shouldn't give me any reason to want things to be any different.

Now, because I'm sick, I'm going to take a nap

The kids are alright

I danced with Hazel last night.  I had been making dinner (rare) because Scott would be getting home late, and the kid was having a hard time dealing with the divided attention.  I rushed to get the food in the oven so I could pick her up and as soon as I did, a favorite song of mine started playing on the Ipod.  They were really all my favorite songs because I was shuffling through a mix that I compiled shortly before she was born to take to the hospital, but this one was especially wonderful. 

As we spun around the room and Hazel leaned her head back to laugh like she does, I caught a glimpse of her teeth (and the absence of).  Looking at those teeth has been a battle because the more I want to see them, the less she allows me. The canines are only starting to consider coming in, so there are still four sweet little baby spaces where teeth will surely be before I can finish this thought.  Her molars are huge (hippoesque) and only as white as an unstained babies can be. 

The reason for such a description of one look inside my daughter's mouth might be lost on anyone who does not have children, but for parents, you will understand the sentiment.  I took that scene, that one moment of open-mouthed, laughing, perfect, unstained baby as deep as I could inside myself.  I tried to capture it so far down in my soul that I would never forget it, like all of the times that I have rocked her when she was sick, or read to her while she sat on my lap in her pajamas.  The impossibility of preserving a moment could be the most difficult part of having a conscious mind.  Before I can sigh, there will be more teeth and words and independence and rebellion.  Despite all of that, I will remember what it felt like to have a toothless, perfectly unburdened child who wants little more than to be loved and has boundless love to give. 

Take all of that for what it's worth to you, but don't ask me the name of the song that we danced to, because I've already forgotten.

Where did my little baby go?

Hazel has become a different baby this week.  Every so often, there are a few days where she seems to change in every way possible, and this has been one of those times.  Scott and I have both been on Spring Break this week, so we've had Hazey all to ourselves. The family time has been great, especially since she's seemed to save a whole list of milestones just for us. 

The first thing she did was sit up by herself.  Although this doesn't seem incredible, it is.  For months, you sit your baby up over and over just to watch her fall and squirm around on the ground, frustrated, until you sit her up again.  It's hard to imagine that she'll ever be able to manage to get up by herself.  Then, like Hazel did on Saturday, she's on all fours and scooting back until she's sitting proudly.  Incredible!  After she sat up once, she was unstoppable.  I put her down to sleep last night, and went to turn the humidifier on.  When I turned around she was sitting up in her crib, smiling at me.  Time to lower the crib and baby proof the house!

I guess sitting herself up kind of goes along with the fact that she's also crawling.  Well, crawling a foot, then falling.  When we went to Magnolia to visit Rachel, Trampus and Tripp (our Godson and Hazel's BFF) on Saturday, Hazel decided she would do a few more new things.  She pulled up to a standing position!  I guess our furniture is too high, so she hadn't had an opportunity before.  Now she demonstrates her talents during diaper changes, which can be really exciting! 

Super-Baby also got her first cold and first fever over 100 during our visit, which she promptly transferred to her buddy, Tripp.  Sorry, Trippy!  Sharing toys with your friends is great, but sometimes it also means sharing cooties.  Both babies are already feeling much better.

Another milestone.  First tooth!  I'm telling you, it's been a busy week.  I'm also convinced that Hazel has begun to develop a real sense of humor this week.  Maybe it's from the time spent with her silly Auntie Ray-Ray, but she has started shaking her head and laughing at herself like she's doing something extremely hilarious, which she is.  When we laugh at her, she realizes that it's getting her some great attention and she does it faster.  It might be the cutest thing I've ever seen.

If you haven't had a visit with Hazel in awhile, now would be a good time.  She's entering a highly entertaining phase in her little life.  I just hope we can keep up with her!

Case of the Mondays

Next week is Spring Break, and this could end up being the longest five days EVER.  I felt so ashamed this morning while looking at my "Hood Weekly", the sheet the administration gives us on Mondays that highlights any significant happenings during the school week.  I was searching for anything that could possibly make my week seem shorter, and I noticed that we have a fire drill during second period on Thursday.  "Good", I thought, "that's ten minutes."  I'm in a sad, sad state of affairs if I look forward to a ten minute fire drill to get me through the week.  So very sad.

The Children are Confused

When I became a teacher, all those years ago, I was told that it's important to use your natural talents to your advantage in the classroom.  This brought to mind a flood of images. 

-- The cool, good looking, mid-thirties male teacher, playing his way cool version of School House Rock on his guitar to a group of adoring fifth graders.

-- The artistic English teacher with a room so expertly decorated in such fine detail that you have to wonder if the kids even notice or care that the apples on the tree all contain adjectives and the peaches have prepositions.

--  The former probation officer who can tell the difference between a kid being "sleepy" in class and being "sleeeeepy" in class (knwImsayin?).  BTW, that's a good teacher to have next door.

Well I don't play the guitar, I can't draw, and they all look high to me, so I figured I would have to capture  them with my charms, my loving nature and my amazing sense of humor.  First year teachers know nothing. 

I found out very quickly that they didn't get me.  They didn't get me when I tried to be funny, they still don't get me even when I'm not trying to be funny, just making fun of them.  It would be so much fun if some of these kids could actually pick up what I'm laying down when I have my sarcastic days...which is every day.  The blank stares just make me feel old and boring, even though I know that they're mostly just young and stupid.  It seems like my subtle jabs and (what I think are) hilarious comments are wasted on these kids. 

Maybe this is what I get for being a sarcastic teenager with a bunch of teachers who didn't get me.  Full circle, I guess...I just had a realization.  Someday, chances are, I am going to have to deal with a sarcastic teenager who is somehow exacting revenge on the behalf of all the adults I tortured in my youth.

" I learned it by watching you, Mom!  I learned it by watching you!"