June 2014 – from midnight oil

The end of school, some animals and the sweet spot of parenting.

June 29, 2014June 29, 2014 frommidnightoilLeave a comment

It’s been a doozy, friends. One for the books. A year to remember. Interminable, exhausting, exhilarating, and joyful. But sweet hallelujah — the school year is OVER.

Have I told you this already? With my endless bitching and moaning and OHMYFREAKINGGODAMIREALLYSICKAGAIN? book slamming? Sorry. Really. No one likes a Crabby Patty, and I ended the year like a napless five-year-old with uncomfortable clothes. In the classroom I was all smiles and “These things happen, guys” when my students were concerned. In the office and at home, well, not so much smiling – a lot more napping and stomping and unremitting diarrhea. But you know what? These things happen.

A student of mine had a similar year; it seemed like they couldn’t catch a break between crisis and injuries and illness. I’d like to write a revisionist history where I handled my setbacks in the same way as my student. However, I didn’t, but I learned a lot.

Some chronic health issues have colored the last few months. While untimely, it has forced me to examine the ways in which I spend my time and energy.

How I spent the last week of school - alternately titled "barfing during finals" — How I spent the last week of school – alternately titled “barfing during finals”

And the dogs. My God The Dogs.

Sam is recovering from surgery to repair her cruciate ligament and meniscus. Everyone is saying “poor Sam” but you know who you should feel bad for? Her poor mom. Literally. Poor. She’s being spoiled and loved and well cared for. Her sister is pissed.

Sam demands to be wrapped like a burrito while we ice her knee. She says it's too cold. — Sam demands to be wrapped like a burrito while we ice her knee. She says it’s too cold.

Sam has doggie rehab/physical therapy once a week. Consequently, Bella likes to terrorize her at least once a day. Now Bella looks like this as she goes to doggie daycare:

Actually this was on the way home. She loves her new friends.

Then they can snuggle like the best friends (bahaha!) they are.

Oh, and we’re trying to keep the chickens and garden alive. What? Oh yeah. By ‘we’ I mean Matt. Obv.

None of the chickens were harmed in the making of this post . . . yet.

So between illness and runaway chickens and injured or otherwise assholish dogs, I nonchalantly asked Matt if he would want to go to the beach with us this weekend. July is a hot, uncomfortable mess with Colby going between our house and with his dad. I desperately wanted to do something fun – with all of us. I was so surprised Matt agreed that I kept waiting for him to come up with an excuse not to go. I was okay taking the kids to the beach on my own – I always have been – but I was really hoping for his company.

We made arrangements for a friend to come along (lest Colby be stuck with the old farts all by himself), and I packed the car last night. I took sandwich orders: pb with fluff and nutella (x2), gluten-free pb and nutella (x1 and g.r.o.s.s.), pb with nutella and a banana (x1). I packed drinks and four tubes of sunblock and hats.

I had us in the car by 8 a.m. and we were off.

9 a.m. gas station Red Hot. Great idea, right?

We drove and listened to the radio and barely heard a peep from the kids. Thank you teenaged sleepiness and Nintendo DS.

As I scrambled up some rocks, it dawned on me that we are still in the sweet spot of parenting. (I’m sure you’ve heard me say this already – and I’m sorry if you’re not there yet. I’m not trying to throw this in your poor, sleep-deprived and over-stimulated face. I’m just letting you know: Trust me. It gets better.) I was ahead of the kids, not directly behind or beside them. I could climb a bit, stand ahead, and know that they were coming along (instead of being convinced of their imminent deaths). Matt and I could carry on a conversation EVEN IF THEY WERE OUT OF EYESIGHT. I knew that they were okay.

I run anxious already, but it’s like I never knew how debilitating it was until the fabric of worry and doom and danger that had covered me all started to unravel. I think I lost a strand in the third grade when Colby could finally tie his shoes. Another when we entered into a new school community. Another with some honest conversation. Another here, another there, until WOMP – here I am.

We got home from super-awesome-beach-day a couple of hours ago. Not long after that, Matt left with the dogs and Colby left with his dad. Even a year ago – the sudden absence of all of my people (yes, dogs included) from my immediate reach would have sent me into a vortex of nothingness: where I couldn’t concentrate on anything less something catastrophic happened and I needed to be ready to run. But – here I am, sitting on my front steps with a glass of Pinot and talking to you!

I don’t know if THIS is the result of Colby’s independence or my, uh, maturity (does that make me sound geriatric?). I guess I hope it’s both.

We spent our day here.. — We spent our day here.

So I spent the day in thanks. Thankful for the warm air that felt better than my heated blanket EVER will, thankful for the company of my husband who will swim in the cold, cold ocean with me, the soft breeze and the sound of the waves. Most of all, I was thankful for the opportunity to read AN ENTIRE SECTION of the weekend Times, on the beach, knowing that my kid was just a half a beach away, and he was just fine.

Teacher Brag: On end-of-the-year projects and Alice Hoffman’s The Dovekeepers

June 12, 2014 frommidnightoilLeave a comment

I’m mad proud of my freshmen right now.

student artwork inspired by The Dovekeepers

We’re coasting into finals week in English 110. Students have finished their LAST essays, reviewed their finals study guide, and completed their Multi Genre Book Projects. This is my favorite way to end the year. It allows our stress dissipate before the frenzy of finals week. This space gives us time to reflect upon the year, visit, and best – talk about great books. That, my friends, is EXACTLY what we are doing this week.

One student chose a favorite of mine, The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman. She asked early if she could go over her time limit. I didn’t tell her: It’s the last real week of school. I didn’t care if her project consisted of cupcakes and cartwheels. I said “of course, as long as it’s relevant”.

I wish I had recorded her presentation. She was so concerned about communicating the book accurately that her voice was shaking. She took us beyond the plot of the book to examine different literary elements and how they wove together to create meaning in the text. She was articulate and passionate and so utterly in love with this book.

We spoke about the book, similar novels (I suggested more Hoffman, Marquez and Olbrecht). She could barely stop talking, and I was sad that the bell had to ring, the conversation had to pause. Before she left I asked her permission to share her (can you believe this talent?!) artwork with you – and hopefully Ms. Alice Hoffman!

Please remember that these images are the property of my student. Please contact me at frommidnightoil@gmail.com with any questions.

She also wrote about the book – check out her book review in Teen Ink here!

How are you all ending the school year?

xoxo

Heather

System Overload

June 4, 2014 frommidnightoilLeave a comment

Sometimes my work life and my home life do not complement each other.

Work, at 12:30 p.m. Students enter the classroom and simultaneously begin talking to me, all thirteen of them. Despite my best efforts, even after a gentle “heads down, make a pillow with your arms, breathe” time out, this continues. For say, ten minutes or so.

I teach in multiple rooms throughout the day, so as the verbal assault continues, I unpack. Take attendance, pull together late work, give reminders. In an attempt at proximity control, I walk the semi-circled desks and check in with students. Any problems with the homework? Where? All set now? Good.

I go back to my desk. Put lecture notes on the board, and begin. And as I talk THEY ARE ALL STILL TALKING! THEY ALL WANT MY ATTENTION AND TO TELL ME:

I GOT A HAIRCUT LAST NIGHT MY BROTHER’S COMPUTER CRASHED I FINISHED THE FAULT IN OUR STARS I LOVED IT I HATED IT HOW CAN YOU HATE THE FAULT IN OUR STARS YOU’RE A MONSTER! I pop in: No, we don’t call each other monsters. We respect each others opinions. Apologize. WHATEVER. SORRY. STUDENTS ARE ALL STILL TALKING: IS IT OKAY THAT I MIXED UP ACT AND SCENE AND ONLY READ THE FIRST SCENE THIS IS STUPID THIS IS BEAUTIFUL MS WEBB WHERE DO YOU LIVE CAN WE COME VISIT YOU? WHO IS QUEEN MAB? DID I DRAW ENOUGH PICTURES? WHEN IS THE FINAL? WHAT’S ON THE FINAL? WILL YOU HELP US STUDY? IT’S XXXXXX’S BIRTHDAY. YOU SPELLED HIS NAME WRONG! NO YOU SPELLED HIS NAME WRONG! MS. WEBB HOW ARE YOUR CHICKENS? CAN YOU TELL US A DOG STORY? ONE DAY MY DOG (every student tells a dog story then a cat story then whether they had a gerbilferretguineapig or goat, their story) HEY – MY NAKED WEAPON IS OUT? IS HIS PENIS OUT? WHAT FRIGGIN LANGUAGE IS THIS THERE IS NO WAY PEOPLE USED TO TALK LIKE THAT. WHAT’S A ‘MAIDEN HEAD’? OH – OHH! GROSS. DID YOU SEE THE BIRTH MOVIE IN HEALTH CLASS? IS THAT WHAT IT’S REALLY LIKE? HEY THERE’S A BIRD! BASED ON THE PRODUCTIVENESS OF THIS CLASS, CAN I GO GET A MATH BOOK? Me: Oh, no kid. You can start us off. Begin with Mercutio.

This ends with me finally locating the YouTube bypass code and showing multiple Romeo and Juliet episodes of Crash Course literature. So be it.

I love these dear, sweet, children. But when THAT occurs on top of regular life, when I’m trying to find time in my schedule like I try to find money in my bank account, and I have to go home to my own homework, one teenager (with his own homework), one husband with un-medicated ADD, two dogs (one injured), twelve chickens, and multiple gardens? I need a re-boot.

I had more to say, but I forgot. Here’s a picture of my chickens:

xoxo