An Anniversary or Two, of Sorts

Today is February 17, which is the date my future husband proposed to me way back in 1996. That got me thinking about February 16, many years before.

What, you may ask, is the significance of February 16?

I attended Saguaro Elementary School in Casa Grande, AZ. The school had a discipline plan which looked like this: If you acted up, the teacher wrote your name on the board as a warning. If you kept it up, you would get a series of check marks next to your name, and each check mark had a consequence -- leading all the way up to getting a swat from the principal.

Being the good girl/people pleaser/teacher's pet that I was, I prided myself on never getting my name written on the board. Until the fifth grade on February 16, that is.

Because my last name began with an A, I was always seated on the front row. It seemed all my teachers were sticklers about seating us in alphabetical order in those days. The girl sitting to my right (I can't remember her name, but it must have also begun with an A) told me to pass a note to Albert Enriquez, who sat across the aisle, and one row back from me on my left. Mr. Jones was busy writing things on the board, so I had to time my hand-off just right.

Now, in my defense, I did not have a lot of note-passing experience, and I didn't want to get caught, so I very discreetly took the note, which my friend had folded into a small triangle, and placed it...
on the toe of my shoe. I kicked it in Albert's direction, just in time for Mr. Jones to turn around and see the note land nowhere near my intended target.

I still remember watching Mr. Jones' bony, wrinkled fingers slowly unfolding the little triangle. He read the note, glared at me through his horn-rimmed glasses, then slowly and deliberately wrote my name on the chalk board.

The humiliation was unbearable. I started to wonder if I should transfer to another school where nobody knew I was the kid who got my name written on the board. At the very least, I was afraid to go to school again the next day.

Fortunately, I stayed at Saguaro Elementary, where I remained in Mr. Jones' class for the remainder of the year. I am also happy to say my reputation did not follow me to Mrs. Mazur's class in the 6th grade.

Also, I don't recommend kicking as a method of note-passing.

Back To School (Waaaay Back)

I don't think anything marks the passing of time quite like the first day of school. New grade, new teacher, new clothes... and new lunchboxes.

When I was a kid, this was my lunchbox:

I mean, how cool is that? When I did an image search for it, I found out that this baby is worth about $150 bucks on ebay. Coulda woulda shoulda.

And now the theme song is playing in your head, right? Go ahead. Admit it.

Anyway...when I was in the second grade, there was this boy in my class named Jamie. Kind of like The Boy Named Sue, he was mean. He teased me and called me names. So one day, I'm walking home, carrying my METAL Happy Days lunch box in my right hand because it was too big to fit in my red book bag. Jamie is following me down the street, saying horrible things to me (as horrible as a 7-year-old can be). I told him to leave me alone, but he kept pestering me. Finally, I swung around with my lunch box and decked him a good one. Gave him a bloody nose and everything.

Jamie put his cupped hands to his nose, ran home crying, and yelled, "I'M GONNA CALL THE COPS ON YOU!"

I ran home and kept an eye out the window, waiting for a patrol car to show up. Of course, it never did, and Jamie never bothered me after that.

And that's how THE FONZ saved me from a bully.

Tales From First Grade

Today I started a two-month long, 1st grade substitute job because, you know, I'm not busy enough. Anyway, first grade is really fun. We were having a little getting-to-know you kind of a meeting, where each of the kids got to tell me something about themselves, and then they got to ask questions of me. This can be a dangerous endeavor, but I decided to go ahead and risk it. One boy raised his hand and asked, "How OLD are you, because you look like a TEENAGER!"

Pretty much decided who my favorite is right there on the spot.

Their regular teacher is on maternity leave, having just given birth to twins. Naturally much of the chatter among the children is about babies and their origination. As they were coloring their worksheets, I listened to one boy tell all the other kids at his table all about how babies are made.

And I quote: "The mom goes to the doctor and he opens up her belly button and sticks a tiny baby inside. Then he covers it all up and the mom goes home and takes a nap. When she wakes up, the baby is big, so she goes back to the doctor and he stretches out her belly button and yanks the baby out!"

It's going to be an entertaining couple of months.

What Their Mama Saw

Well, here we go again. I have a freshman, and I have a 5th grader. They're both attending new schools this year. The freshman was nervous about going to high school and the 5th grader was excited about getting his own locker and sitting anywhere he wants during lunch at the intermediate school. When I came out of my room this morning, he was standing in the hallway, holding onto his bangs.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I decided to try out a new hair style for school this year."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Well, I need them to stick out, not up, but they won't stay."

"I've got something that can solve that." It only took two applications before he realized if he left his hair alone, it would stay put.

Here's what they looked like this morning:

And what their mama saw:

Your Mom Went to College...

At the risk of disclosing my real age, I'll begin by saying that I graduated from college sometime during the 20th century.

When I went back to teaching three years ago, I had a lot of catching up to do. In the ten years since I had become a stay-home mom, policies had come and gone, they were speaking a whole new language that I had never been a part of, and kindergarten somehow became less about getting along and more about reading actual books.

There were certain requirements I had to meet in order to get my teaching certificate updated. Among other things, I had to take a two-part test known as the Praxis. I was given a year to take the first part and three years to take the second part. I took the first part at the end of my first year. It was more like a big trivia quiz than a test. I'm really good at trivia. My mind is a steel trap for all kinds of useless information. For instance, did you know that babies don't have knee caps until they're three years old? Needless to say, I nailed it. I even got a special certificate in the mail because I scored so exceptionally high on it, along with a letter stating that I am truly dedicated to my profession for being so knowledgeable in so many areas. Whatever. Useless information.

In two days I will be taking the second part of the Praxis. I've been studying. And I'm worried. This is the stuff that I learned in college. You know, back in the late 20th century. I have to know the names of behaviorists and their theories and tell how I would apply their expertise in my classroom. I need to remember the difference between Piaget and Maslow. Does anyone out there even understand Constructivist Theory?

What I'm saying is, I know how to apply it, I just can't remember what it's called.

I learned more about teaching from motherhood than I ever did in college. Teaching is about common sense. If a kid does something right, praise them. If a kid does something wrong, let them know and praise them for trying harder. Be enthusiastic. If you love to learn, so will they. Be consistent and follow through with consequences. I before E except after C. AND BAND-AIDS FIX EVERYTHING.

It's just too bad there won't be anything on the test about band-aids.

Valentines and Things of That Nature

Yesterday I decided that Valentine's Day should always, and I mean always be on a Saturday. As my students darted with raucousness from game to game, craft to craft, I kept thinking, Do you know what they're doing in China* right now? Math. And Science. And they're learning how to become CEO's of mega conglomerates who sell heart-shaped junk to Americans!

Also, Jamison wore his new shirt and delivered his heart-shaped box of chocolates, via a friend. The enclosure read, "To McKardy From ???" I know because I witnessed it first hand as I helped with the valentine party in his classroom. I know, I'm a glutton for punishment.

Later on, when I asked him why he liked her so much, he said, "Well, she is the most popular girl in our class and I am the most popular boy." It's good to know that self-confidence isn't holding him back anytime soon. He also said, "she's really smart and we both want to be scientists when we grow up, and we both have three syllables in our names."**

Back to the party, I was, however, proud of the little game I made up. We played our own version of Minute to Win It, stacking towers of conversation hearts. It was such a hit with the second graders that we played it later at home for family night. Try it with chopsticks. And no, the irony of the chopsticks after my China reference is not lost on me.



*China - I am actually tired of everyone comparing our educational system to theirs. They only educate those they deem worthy, and dictate what they will become. We educate EVERYBODY.

**Update - Jamison just walked in and when I asked him how school went, he said, "McKardy asked me to play with her at recess, so the chocolates must have worked!"

What Do Pipe Cleaners, A Third World Country, and Ebay Have in Common?

Stay with me. Randomness to follow.

I woke up confused this morning. It only got worse from there. My hair had a mind of its own. I forgot my pipe cleaners (an important kindergarten necessity) and my herbal tea. Thankfully my school is in the back yard of the grocery store. I paid for my new pipe cleaners at the self-check. Of course, they rang up at more than twice the price they were supposed to be. And of course, there was no one around to fix it. And, and of course, I was late for a meeting. So I forked out the extra cash. I know what you're thinking. How much can pipe cleaners be? It's really the principle of the matter. I was at the same grocery store yesterday, and instead of bagging my groceries, the bag girl was texting on her phone. It was probably something like "bggng sux. wut r u doing? lol." I'll be shopping elsewhere in the future; except of course, when I'm in a hurry and need some pipe cleaners.

As the morning went on, my day got even more discombobulated. No tea to keep my throat moist, an unexpected assembly, short one volunteer for centers. But then, a surprise. We're doing a unit on friends. Today's book was a story called "Friends All Around." The words and pictures showed children all around the world enjoying different activities. There was a picture of some children from Suriname, jumping rope together. Why was that a surprise? Because Suriname is where I was born. Very few people have even heard of it. If they have heard of it, it's because of that slimy little dude who had something to do with Natalee Holloway's disappearance. Anyway, it was just very cool to see that picture in a book that I get to read to my kindergartners.

And that brings me to another thought: election day. We left Suriname when I was very young. There was a brief stint in The Netherlands, but then we came to the good ol' USA. Today I got to vote - not something that happens in Suriname. How awesome is that? I was born in an oppressed country, but lucky enough to end up here. Doing what I want, living how I want, voting because I can.

The other cool thing about voting today is due to where I live. I walked into the polling center where no less than 10 people I knew were waiting in line. The election judges were all women I know. We chatted and we caught up with each other; kind of like a voting party. We discussed everything but politics, which I found both weird and refreshing.

My discombobulated day started to recombobulate as I got home and discovered leftovers for lunch. I made one of my favorite dinners last night, so that was a good thing. Even better, I found a bottle of Coke in the fridge. What is it about that stuff that makes your cares disappear?

However, upon checking my e-mail, I received notice that something I purchased on Ebay is now in dispute. I didn't have a problem, but now I'm wondering if I'll get my fifty bucks back.

The discombobulation continues.

Ribs, Anyone?

The last 8 or 10 days have been a whirlwind of craziness here in the Stagg household, but it all came to a head yesterday, when at 2:30 a.m. I woke up in agony. I pretty much diagnosed myself with having a heart attack, until I realized that the pain was on my right side. I stayed in bed hoping for the sweet relief of sleep or death, whichever came first. I probably slept for a sum total of 30 minutes - and it was the first day of school. After describing my symptoms to my physical therapist/husband, he said, "I think you should call a chiropractor."

So I got my kids out the door for their first day. Aren't they cute?

Thankfully, kindergarten doesn't officially begin until September 7th, after placement testing, which did begin yesterday. Also thankfully, placement testing means sitting in the same chair with one kid at a time (standing at this point was not an option). And by the time lunch rolled around, I had an appointment with a chiropractor. After a few simple tests he said, "you have a subluxated rib."

If you've ever had a searing, white-hot dagger hooked to electrical shock wires piercing you through your back to your chest, then you know what I'm talking about. Ouch.

Dr. Froggley did his thing and I was able to walk out of his office more fully upright than when I went in. It's still a little tender today, but I'm more willing to move, walk, bend, breathe, etc. Also, due to the aforementioned whirlwind, I ended up with a day off!

So the question is, do I clean up the whirlwind's effects or do I chill on the couch with the Rachael Ray Show? Hmm. That's a tough one.

Showbiz

In just a few short moments I will be leaving to attend Midway Elementary's First Grade Production, "Take Me Home."

This was the conversation as I tucked my 1st grader into bed last night:
Jamison: "Hey Mom, did you know that I have an understudy?"
Me (incredulous): "No. What?"
Jamison: "Yeah. I have an understudy and he is really hoping that I am sick tomorrow so that he can do my part."

Even in first grade, it's a cutthroat business.