I feel like everyone has returned home for the summer but me. Sometimes I wish I could just go home. I miss my MoM.

Happy almost two year anniversary to me!

Off to the Scarborough Renaissance Festival!!!!!!!! This is where Jared is taking me for our second year anniversary.

Jungle

Are there times when you look out your window and the only thought you have is. . . "we need a lawnmower." Times when a person leaves a note on your door, "I can mow, edge, and blow off your yard at ____ for $ 25.00. Call Forest at. . ." Times when you wish you talked to your neighbor enough that it would not be weird to walk over and borrow their lawnmower. . . Times. . . when. . .

1. . .2. . .3. . .The Math of Handwashing

This evening in the bathroom, I heard a concerned mother ask her 4-year-old daughter, "Now, Honey, how many seconds do you wash your hands?" Her daughter mumbled something and the mother replied, "Yes, good, 20 seconds." After they left the other woman in the bathroom smiled and said, "Yes, 20 seconds and then you touch the door handle and get them all back."

This evening I thought I would try and count while washing instead of letting my mind wander while I played in the warm soapy water. I got to about 9 or maybe 12 when I had to start struggling to keep my mind on counting. At about 15 seconds I almost forgot what I was counting for and then I made it to 20 seconds, did not think my hands were quite done and stayed there a few more without the botherment of counting.

Washing hands should be something everyone, especially distractible people and kids, should be allowed to do without counting. How far can your mind wander if you are trying to keep track of 20 numbers?

Teaching first grade can be tough. Knowing this, my father-in-law sent me a joke to keep me smiling. He did not say where it was from so I will just put it here. . . thanks to whoever wrote it.

My six-year-old was having a tough time adjusting to first grade. At least twice a week, I received a note from his teacher outlining his latest infraction. Finally, I sat him down and laid it on the line. "I don't want any more notes from your teacher!" "All right, Mom," he said. "Are you going to tell her, or do you want me to?"

One year noniversary

It has been one year since I posted. I think I will try and keep up my blog again. We shall see.

I thought life was hard until it got so much more difficult. Over the last week, I have had to say goodbye to 18 wonderful second graders who adored me, lose my supervising teacher, and move into a classroom of out-of-control-fourth-graders-who-know-it-and-are-PROUD-of-it.

To begin, my supervising teacher switched me out for another student to save on driving time and to stay out of her control group (for her doctorate work). Therefore, whether I like it or not, I am stuck. I loved my first supervising teacher. She made me comfortable, didn't give homework, and was as flexible as an overcooked green bean. I get switched to a supervising teacher who gives four assignments a week and has deadlines like "Midnight Saturday" instead of sometime before your first placement ends. Supposedly my new supervising teacher picked me, but...I was so happy where I was...soooo very happy. *world crashes* *sigh*

Some of my students seem to have it out for me and have decided that they want to get away with murder. I have had a student respond to my request with a "make me" and then a "no" until the other teacher punished him once for what I said, and then again for not listening to me. She said that if students did not do as I asked exactly WHEN I ask it, they will automatically get the worst punishment available to us as teachers. The boys decided to play in the bathroom and too many went in at a time. So, one of the urinals got totally messed up and when I sent a student for a custodian, she walked over looked in the bathroom and yelled, "You boys better stop taking advantage of this nice teacher. You know there are too many of you in here, and that this behavior is not allowed. Get out NOW." All this as I am standing out in the hall dying from embarrassment...telling my students they are getting away with taking advantage of me.

Well, that is enough for now. . . hopefully more to come.