5 Things I Shouldn't Have to Learn but Did Anyway

I found this post (or what looked like the start of a post) in my drafts, and since I'm desperate to squeeze in an entry before the next WIP Report (I swear my blog is hanging on that one last flimsy thread for its very survival), I'm going to copy/paste it below:

Five Things I Learned in Teaching this Week

1. If you period-sub for a moderate-to-severe special ed. class, be prepared to have your hair petted for 47 minutes by kids who regard you like you're an exotic unicorn.
2. If a student says "I think I'm going to die" after running the monster mile in P.E., responding with "We have a lot to cover today...can you hold off dying until you get to Mr. C's class?" is probably not the most compassionate response.
3. ALWAYS expect your iPad to be on the wrong Pandora playlist. If you think you're getting ready to play soft, tranquil mood music during Silent Sustained Reading, fully expect Wiggle by Snoop Dog to blast instead.
4. Telling your writing enrichment class about your idea for a character who is a sadistic empath might leave them frozen, wide-eyed, and a little terrified of you.
5. If a student asks "Mrs. P., what is the definition of the word arousal?" do not attempt to answer. You will fail miserably. Let Webster handle that discussion.

~ ~ ~

I'm sure this post was going somewhere, but since it was from about six months ago, that's all I've got.

Back to the Grind

I've officially been at work for two weeks now (and have neglected my blog for at least that long). My first day with students went well! Here's a quick summary of that first day:

• The air conditioner in my classroom didn't work for half the day, then worked beautifully, then stopped working that afternoon (just in time for triple-digit temperatures).
• My internet wouldn't work. Since we take attendance through an online system, you can see how this might be a problem. 
• Our bells were't working. 
• Our loud speaker wasn't working. Very convenient since our school uses the intercom system to instruct 7th graders where to go on their first day of school. Students are also led in the Pledge of Allegiance via the loudspeaker, so we were officially the most unpatriotic campus in America that week (though on day three it occurred to me that I could lead my own homeroom class in the Pledge).  
• Our copy machines were not working. 

So that about covers it. I was surprised to discover that I loved not having bells! It was nice to not be at the mercy of some monotonous beep to decide when classes were over (though I did accidentally dismiss one class ten minutes early. Oops).

In addition to the first day of school hoopla, Clint and I have been in and out of the ER because Elijah was exhibiting symptoms resembling appendicitis and kept getting sent home by his school. It took three days before the ultrasounds revealed the culprit (what looks like an inflamed lymph node near the appendix). We seem to be out of the woods with all that now, but what an ordeal.

I have a new room this year, and I could not be happier with it. You see that door right there in the corner? (Ignore blanked-out poster--I had to censor that for privacy reasons).

That's an interior door leading to a small storage room--a space I share with two of my friends/coworkers, Naomi and Jen. Basically it's like a "secret passageway" into each other's rooms. Maybe it's typical for classrooms in the Midwest, East Coast, etc., to connect in a similar fashion, but it's rare at our school. 90-some percent of our classrooms are islands unto themselves, with only one door leading outside. Jen, Naomi, and I all teach 7th grade Language Arts, so this set-up is perfect for us to be able to pop in and out of each other's rooms throughout the day for quick collaboration (or just to say 'hi'). But for me, I love having colleagues right there that I get to see every day. It seems like such a small thing, but teaching can be a very isolating profession, and now I'm really enjoying that daily human-contact (okay, 7th graders are human too, sort of, but you get my point).

As far as writing goes, I haven't got anything done. I told myself I would allow myself a two week break from revisions so I could get reacclimatized with work. Now that two weeks is up, so I guess I better get crackin'.

Follow Your Dreams [Right out the Window]

Have you ever seen Mike and Molly? I've always enjoyed the simplicity and light humor of the show (and the fact that the characters don't look like skinny models who stepped out of fashion magazines), but this most recent season has propelled me from somewhat enjoying the show to downright loving it. To understand why, watch this clip (it's only a minute long and completely worth it):

Oh my gosh you guys, she's a TEACHER (just like me), who feels stuck in an endless cycle of middle-aged drudgery (just like me) and decides, on a completely spontaneous whim, to quit her job and follow her dreams (just like me--okay, no--but just like I fantasize doing every other day). And it gets even crazier. As the season progresses, Molly decides to become a writer. A WRITER! She quits teaching to write. This woman, however fictional she may be, is my hero.

For the record, I do love my job. My school (aptly dubbed "the Ranch") is about as awesome as they come. I never wake up feeling like "Ugh, I have to go to work today." My school site is my second home, and I love stepping onto its friendly campus every morning. I love the quirkiness of my students. I love it that I get to be one of the people in their lives helping to guide them through the crazy and uncertain transition from childhood to adulthood.

But there's a certain dynamic to teaching that makes you feel like you're stuck in a rut. I've tried [unsuccessfully] so many times to explain in past blog posts this feeling...the feeling that I'm trapped in a really jacked up time loop (seriously, I've said it here, here, and even here...). Even the conflict within my MS is a time loop...gee, I wonder how my subconscious managed to dredge that one up. The thing is, every year I go through the same events and put up with the same dramas, and it feels so special and new to my students, but to me, it's the "same ole' same ole'." At the end of the year, they get to move on to bigger and brighter things, while I'm left to clean up my room and start all over again. Rinse and repeat. The faces change, the names change, but it's all the same. Year after year. When Molly states, "You guys only have fourth grade once, I have all of this for thirty more years," I don't think I've ever related more to a line on television.

Even better is when Molly asks the kids (who couldn't be more apathetic), "Do you ever just kinda stand back and look at your life and think 'This is not where I ought to be'?" Yes, Molly, yes! I have! I love my job, but I can feel it down to my core that I'm not in the right place. I wish I could be crazy like she is. I wish I had the guts to give up my stable, secure, pleasant job and trade it for something much more scary--something with no guarantees. No safety net. Writing. JUST writing.

But I can't. Or, I won't. I live here, in non-fiction land with bills to pay and expectations to meet, and where the fear of failure is too real. So for now I'll just continue to live vicariously through larger-than-life characters like Molly and fantasize about jumping out that window and never looking back.

Medieval Days & Snakes at School

I need to write a post! It's been such a loooooong time (actually, I just looked at my last post to check, and it's been eleven days, which isn't too terrible, so I took off one of the o's in looooooong).

I don't have anything particular to write about, so I'll just talk about this past week. Let's see...on Friday, a production group called the Kingdom of Esperance visited our school and led seventh graders in a Medieval Festival, complete with tent encampments, archery demos, period-art, and a tournament of knights with real armor and swords. It was pretty awesome. Our city's newspaper was supposed to send a reporter to cover the event, but the reporter cancelled at the last minute, so I was asked to cover the event instead. It was so, so fun. I got to run around, interviewing the workers and taking pictures.

Even during the archery demos, no one batted an eye when I trespassed over the caution tape to get close-ups. At one point, one of the more "official" looking people asked me if I was trying to get action shots.  I honestly thought that he was going to tell me to step back. But instead, he escorted me closer and told the workers to wait until I was ready before shooting their next set. Sadly, those pictures ended up with a glare on them, so I was unable to send them to the press.

For the record, I'm awful at taking pictures. I have no finesse for it at all. Kind of ironic that I ended up being the "reporter" for this event.

Anyway, I sent my photos and story to the newspaper, and it came out on Tuesday morning.

The only thing that grated on my nerves was the paper used my entire story, but labeled the byline "Photos courtesy of Jodi Perkins." Um...photos?? What about the article? I mean, it's small, but still. Grrrrr. I almost called them to complain, but then decided it wouldn't accomplish anything.

On Saturday I was paid $400 to be a presenter for THIS. 

I have to say, I am ridiculously proud of my district for pulling off this little trailer. It's like your five year old running up to you with a drawing that actually looks half-decent. Anyway, I was asked to give a 45 minute presentation/workshop, and OH MY GOODNESS was it fun.

After the presentation, I went skating with Shan and all the kids. My parents showed up to drop off a late birthday present for my nephew, and we all decided to go out to dinner. Usually we only get together for special occasions, so that was pretty awesome.

A snake showed up in the girl's restroom on Wednesday. Tom, our maintenance guy, heard a girl scream in the bathroom, came running, and found the snake. He then brought the snake to me, because somehow I'm the unofficial animal care person on our campus. I let him know the snake was harmless and I would take him home with me and put him in our garden (great for keeping down the pest population when you're trying to grow stuff). But then my principal got wind of the snake and said there was no way I was allowed to keep him in my classroom (to her credit, she was very calm. I think I must give her a mini-heart-attack every week). Tom went to transport the snake to our outdoor lunch patio where I was going to pick him up at the end of the day. But when he arrived, the snake was GONE. We discovered a small gap beneath the handle of the carrier where the snake managed to escape. Of course this all happened AFTER my principal had told us "Don't you let that snake get loose on campus!" I really didn't feel particularly inspired to tell her that a snake was now roaming free somewhere between the cafeteria and room 405, so me and Tom kept it quiet that afternoon. The next day, Tom found our creepy little buddy in front of the snack bar. This time I didn't mess around. I picked him up (yes, with my bare hands. I ain't scared--or particularly bright) and put him in a giant glass vase and sealed a lid with air holes over the top. Our computer specialist asked if she could take the snake home because her daughter loves them, so I ended up handing him over to her, and the rest is history.

This has turned into a long post considering I had nothing of consequence to write about.

Things You Find in a Desert

I probably should post Halloween-y stuff tonight, but I already wrote this entry four or five days ago (minus this sentence) and forgot to post it, so I'll write about Halloween later.

I've complained several times in previous blog entries that I feel like I'm stuck in a time loop, repeating the same events of my life, over and over...events that should break the monotony of a normal person's life, like parades and community clean-up days and blanket-making and...so on.  Not that it's a terrible thing, but it makes it hard to write a post about said-activity when I've already written about it x-amount of times in the past.  

Well, staying true to that premise, here's "Community Clean-Up Day Take 6."  Or 7.  Or 9.  Crap, I don't know.

This year I thought I'd do my first (and last) annual "Things You Find in a Desert" Edition.  So here you go, ladies and gentlemen...things you might find in a desert:

 A king-sized mattress.

 A roll of carpet.

 A box of broken doll parts (creepy).

 A couch.

 Another mattress.

An abandoned car.

 Some more carpet.

A baby tarantula.

You might also find 20 broken television sets, a refrigerator, a few drug needles, two more fully grown tarantulas, mountains of discarded concrete, broken glass, enough artificial foliage to start a pseudo-garden, and a Bible (but you might not have your cell phone available to take pics of those things because you gave it to one of your students to hold for you because girls' jeans' pockets are too damn small).

So that concludes the 6th (or 7th or 9th or whatever-th) edition of Community Clean-Up Day.

Pepper for Breakfast

I'm feeling pretty moody with blogger.  Last night I wrote a big, beautiful post, but for some reason there were inordinately large spaces in-between paragraphs and I couldn't get rid of them.  So I switched over to HTML.  I successfully deleted most of the spaces, but then accidentally deleted the closing tag for a certain section.  When I hit the "undo" arrow, my ENTIRE post disappeared, along with the "redo" option.  I thought, "No big deal, I'll just go to the previous page before my changes are saved."  But the second I went to back out of the page, it auto-saved my blank blog.  Ughhhh.

Okay, that was a long-winded way of saying I lost yesterday's post (by the way, it's only a "big, beautiful" post because there's no evidence to the contrary).  I'll never recreate it, so that's that.

So new stuff.  Yesterday I was at a training with the rest of my department, when we got the news that there had been an incident at school.  It happened in my friend Jen's class (Niecy's former classroom).  Jen was sitting at the same table with me at the training when she got the news.   A student brought in a pepper bomb, which is basically pepper spray in powder form, compressed into a ball.  He never intended to use it; he just brought it to show his friends.  He had procured it from his dad, who's a correctional officer.  But it accidentally came apart when he was rolling it around on his desk (the sub either didn't see it, or thought it was a red toy ball).  Three girls who were sitting directly next to this student immediately ran out of the room, unable to breathe.  The rest of the class followed soon after.  Eight students were treated by ambulance before being released, and a correspondent from Channel 2 News interviewed our school about the incident.  Poor Jen had to relocate to a different classroom today so that her room could be deep-cleaned and her filters replaced with new ones.  Several kids left their backpacks, and they weren't even allowed to retrieve them.  RMS Cafe was supposed to be held in Jen's room this morning, but it was relocated to Naomi's room (my other language arts colleague/friend).  In addition to the usual splay of donuts, fruit, and coffee, Naomi supplied a plate of...peppers.  

One thing that stands out in my mind was a few hours before the incident, Jen was expressing her nervousness over having a sub in her classroom for two days.  But then she comforted herself by saying, "I have really good kids this year, so I really have nothing to worry about."  That right there is why I'm a strong advocate of KNOCKING ON WOOD.

Clint's schedule is brutal this month.  He's driving a train from Needles, CA, to Winslow, AZ, so he's gone for six days at a time.  Poor guy; he comes home with enough time to mow the lawn and repair things that need to be repaired, and then he's gone again.  And there is always something that needs to be repaired.  I swear this house very calculatingly waits for him to leave, and then decides to dump problems on me.  Like the smoke detectors that went all manic a few weeks ago.  Or the ice-maker last week, which would do nothing but growl every time I pushed the button, but then the second I opened the freezer, ice would explode on me.  On the plus side, I was showered with the specific ice I had requested, whether it was cubed or crushed.  So ten points for accuracy there.  Now our latest problem is the voltage on our electric fence around the petting zoo...it's too high.  I'm not sure what changed...maybe the fact that the ground has been moister than usual lately?  But on top of zapping two sparrows, the fence fried one of our hens.  Now I have more unfortunate critters to add to the ever-growing Why You Don't Want to be a Bird in Our House list.  So Clint will have to tweak that on Monday, plus get rid of the dead chicken that no one wants to touch.  Thankfully by next week he should be back to shorter routes, where he is gone for only 2-3 days at a time.

Clint's parents are taking the kids to an insect fair tomorrow.  Trin is all sorts of excited because there are supposed to be a few entomologist there from UCR, and she plans to pick their brains about the world of entomology.  Right now she's torn about what she wants to be when she grows up; either an entomologist or an aviary veterinarian.  The aviary vet idea has me laughing my head off.  How great would it be for a child whose family has a history of unwittingly massacring winged creatures to become a veterinarian of BIRDS?

Teri invited me to go along to the insect fair with them, to which I gave her a very polite hell no.  With Clint gone all the time, I'm saturated with kids 24/7.  The thought of some peace and quiet (aka: uninterrupted writing time) sounds like pure bliss.  I'm hoping to go to Starbucks tomorrow and make my word-meter bar grow.

Oh, I wrote a vignette (exactly 500 words in length) on my other blog, but I'm not crazy about it.  It was in response to another end-of-the-world-type writing prompt that one of my twitter followers mentioned me in.  I love creating short stories...they make for fun little interludes between chapter revisions.  But for some reason I only like to write them when I get a prompt of some kind.  Same for painting--I like being given some direction, like "paint an angel or paint a willow tree"--I feel too aimless if I'm just supposed to "paint".  Anyway, I failed a little on this one.  500 words was too shrimpy of a word count for me to flesh the exposition out, or to get the reader to care about the character or her plight.  I guess this highlights my shortcomings as a writer.  Although Apathetics is a flash fiction of sorts, and I managed to pull that one off in 440-some words.  So I don't know.  Maybe the repetitiveness of the topic was a problem too.  I do love the concept of vignettes--and flash fiction--so I might look for some more prompts here and there when I'm feeling ready to take breaks from DoT.

Settling In

It's such a pretty night, and I'm doing nothing but listening to beautiful music.  My manuscript went stagnant this week after my blog went MIA.  It occurred to me that it's harder for me to write without my word meter.  Such a stupid little thing, but without being able to see myself progressing, I get discouraged before I even begin.  I'm like a little kid--I need that affirmation.  Now my little ticker is back and I should be able to get a couple thousand words pounded out soon (I hope).

This week was relaxing, somehow.  It helps that I adore my students this year.  Like, all of them, which is rare.  I wish I could retire with this group and end my career on a high.  One thing I find amusing is they are all so eager to volunteer for stuff, even before they know what they're volunteering for.  Today I needed a volunteer to be my "technical assistant."  Here's how that went down:

"I need a volunteer to--"  (twenty hands shoot up in the air, I raise my eyebrows) "--to clean my toilets this weekend and every alternating Thursday." (They roar with laughter).  "Cool, I'll take you, you, and YOU.  Thanks guys!"  

I'd like to say they learned their lesson, but yeah...no.
   

Clint was gone for five days and just got back today.  His schedule is still an adjustment, but it's getting easier.  I can finally sleep through the night now without jumping at every noise.  It helps that the dogs sleep in the house now.  And the rooster, but that's a whole 'nother story.  It also helps that I booby-trap all my doors.   

Okay, I might be a touch on the paranoid side.    

We have a birthday party tomorrow.  It's my little niece (Moo's little girl) who's turning three, but it's a costume party.  I guess that sounds odd.  Every year we have a themed-costume night with Clint's family around Halloween; this year everyone voted to move it up a month because we're all crazy-busy for Halloween.  So they decided to have the costume party for my niece's birthday.  The theme is Enchanted Forest.  I'm dressing up as...well, I don't know what it is.  I picked up the costume last year for 50% off, and it's some kind of purple, girly one-eyed woodland creature/monster thing.  Maybe I'll call myself the "One-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater."  Anything can be found in an enchanted forest, right?

Speaking of birthdays, Shan and I celebrated our 35th last week.  I wasn't depressed to turn 35, which surprised me.  I think it helps that I inadvertently roll my sister's successes into my own, and between the two of us we kicked ass this year (I can say that in my blog because I'm an awkward ball of insecurity in real life).  For our birthday, as I mentioned before, we went to the LA County Fair.  It was both fun and not at the same time.  Fun throughout most of the day while we were enjoying margaritas, funnel cake, and shopping; not fun when I got terrible cramps/fatigue that night (three guesses why) and lost the three dresses my parents had bought me for my birthday.  They were all in one bag, and I had set the bag down when Clint and I were talking to a guy about possibly installing an in-ground pool.  When we left the booth to catch up to my family, I realized I had left it behind.  When I ran back to get it, the bag was gone.  I knew for a fact that if I told my parents I had lost it, my dad would want to re-purchase the dresses--which would make me feel even more crummy.  So I decided to lie.  When I reunited with my parents, I forced a cheery smile on my face and said I had found the dresses, and Clint had made me stuff them into my backpack so I wouldn't lose them again.  They believed me and everyone was happy.  Except for Shannon--she walked up to me about five minutes later and whispered "You're so full of it. You didn't find that bag."  I was shocked.  I whisper-exclaimed, "How did you know? I thought I was so convincing!"  She said, "You were.  I just know you."

Twin sisters.  Or therapists.  Either way, *sigh*.

Signing off now to listen to more music.  I wonder if songs of the future will ever be as good as those of the past.  It seems impossible.  Here's an old-school piece I ran into on YouTube--Total Eclipse of the Heart.  This was my mom's all-time favorite song in the 80s.  She rarely blasted music, but she would blast this one, which was much more preferable at the time than Crimson and Clover, over and OVER (also her favorite).  Total Eclipse has got some of that 80s corniness, but wow does her voice and the instrumental get powerful.  I bet you Bonnie Tyler collapsed when she reached the end of this song...it had to be exhausting.  Seriously, it practically blows up near the end.  It's like a gripping story line, with that steady build-up of rising action, until it peaks at the climax and all that intensity explodes...okay, I swear I'm not talking dirty.  Those are the appropriate terms.  Really.

Whatever.  Never mind.

I love these lyrics because they're no frills.   

A Memorable Night--with Cookies, Even

Okay, let me just get this entry over with so I can get back to talking about superficial things like the rooster living in my daughter's bathroom or the bunny who thinks our fireplace is his rabbit hole.

Here is the link to the newspaper article I appeared in:  The Hesperia Star.  The photo they captioned me in is terrible.  But to be fair, I'm not graceful with surprises at all.  I pretty much fell apart.

Let me explain real fast.  I knew I had won Teacher of the Year at my own school site.  That news came out right before we went on summer break.  So last week, me and 47 other teachers and staff members who had won Employee of the Year at their own school sites attended a ceremony to receive our silver apple awards.  They also baked us fresh chocolate chip cookies in some portable oven-thingy.  Kay, I guess that detail is irrelevant, but I still remember smelling the cookies when I walked up to get my award.  ANYWAY--I had received my award and was standing up there with the other 47 employees, when they announced that they were now going to name the district-wide Teacher of the Year.  This means that, of all the winners, they had chosen one teacher for elementary school and one for secondary (middle- and high-) school to receive the district-winner plaque.  At this point I had practically tuned the ceremony out.  We had been standing on display beneath a bright light for awhile, and I was eager for them to announce the final "winners" so I could get off the stage and reunite with my family.  They called up the elementary teacher first, and she had to walk past me to get up to the front.  She was so surprised, and I remember putting my arm on her and telling her how amazing it was.  Then suddenly, I hear them say my school's name.  My skin went really hot, and I thought I must have heard that wrong.  Then I hear my name.  Apparently my picture went up on an overhead screen; I never saw that.  But the people directly around me started going crazy; someone said "That's you Jodi!" and propelled me forward.  After that, it was all a blurry whirlwind of congratulations and tears (those were mine) and camera flashes and an interview with our local newspaper in which I said words that I can't remember saying.

Me before I fell apart--I had to get ready for the ceremony in my classroom since it began at 4:30.

My family (minus Clint, who was in Kansas). Shan was hilarious--remind me to tell you about her "contributions" to my interview later.

The Fam. =)

Me with my vice-principal (left) and two friends/silver apple recipients.

Me and the Superintendent (yikes--super blurry)

There're are a ton more pics out there somewhere.  I have pics with my principal, colleagues, and so on.  But they're all divided amongst a bunch of different cell phones--none of which are mine--so this is all I've got for now.

Why don't I deserve this award?  Well, consider the following excerpts I pulled from past blog entries:

1. My pet rats escaped again last night....
2. I had to perform a staple-ectomy on one of my students yesterday.  He stapled his finger.  I mean, really stapled his finger, to the point where the staple was completely embedded into his flesh.  I just applied lots of pressure, counted to three, and pulled that sucker out.  If you yourself have any surgery requirements, I'd be glad to assist.
3. Spelling Bee starts tomorrow, and I'm the Master of Ceremonies person again.  I'm excited because I love the break from the classroom, hanging out with the judges, and eating chocolate (there's always chocolate).
4. I just about threw in the towel today as far as teaching was concerned.  The only standards my kids mastered were how to effectively cover their ears and squish stuff.
5. Today I slammed a student's head with the door....
6. I decided my homeroom will officially be a heart-making sweat shop tomorrow.  I am also sending paperclips to four other homerooms (although two of the teachers don't know this yet).  With five different factories working for twenty minutes, I'm hoping that this will be enough to get us through lunch tomorrow.  Is it wrong to make the kids bend paperclips through the Pledge of Allegiance?
7. Several times, in an attempt to lunge for balloons, students actually dove head-first into the trash can.
8. The rest of the week went by pretty smoothly, except for the fact that one student stole Axe Bodyspray from another student's backpack and then proceeded to spray it, which for reasons still unclear to me led to a bag of Cheetos exploding all over my room. 
9. So not only is mild cursing good for student-learning, but it actually provides the teacher some much needed therapy throughout the day.
10. This morning I decided to take Ms. Frisbee on a field trip to Mr. A's office so that he could see exactly the sweet little innocent creature who was thrown across my room and perhaps take the matter more seriously.  He isn't entirely comfortable with rodents, but I finally managed to talk him into holding her.  She then peed all over him. 
11. One of my students today threatened to burn my car down.  I know, *gasp*, but it was actually part of a bad joke.  I asked said-student if I could choose which vehicle he decided to douse with kerosene, because my 2007 HHR was getting really dirty.  
12. Next, we played "Telephone."  I started the game by whispering "Raining cats and dogs is my favorite idiom."  After the message passed through 36 sets of ears, it came out as "Pink gay bunnies."
13. During the power outage, one student walked into class late.  I stated "You're tardy Elise, but I have no proof, so have a seat." 
14. It makes me feel sad that I will never be these kids' teacher again.  We bond with each other throughout the year and they start to feel like family to me.  Even the little crap heads that drive me nuts start to feel like family.

Thought I'd end on a heart-warming note there for #14.

You can find the context for all of these items here:  Middle School Dribbles.

You think if the Teacher of the Year panel had followed my blog, they still would have voted for me?  (Maybe it's best not to explore that question).

I Spayed my Cat. Twice.

I had this really weird dream that I accidentally spayed my already-spayed cat, and then a transformer box blew up at my work leaving me trapped in a dark classroom with my rowdy 7th period class all day, and then I won Teacher of the Year.

Oh wait.  Those things actually happened.

Let me start with the power outage.  It happened today,* on an upside-down week.  On upside-down weeks, kids start with their 7th period class in the morning, and then proceed to 6th, 5th, 4th, and so on.  Today started perfectly normal.  I conducted an in-class Spelling Bee during our 7th period morning class, the kids took a break (I have each group of kids for two periods), and then we started reading A Wrinkle in Time during 6th period.

That's when the power went out. 

The kids immediately screamed because, well, that's what 12 and 13 year-olds do when their classroom descends into darkness.  I just played it off and said, "Come on guys, this is no big deal."  There was no way for me to call anyone up front to see what was going on since our classroom phones were dead, and the level of darkness in my room made it impossible to do any work or read, so I took the kids out into the sunshine where we finished reading our chapter.

Right when 6th period was nearing its end and students were packing up (in the dark) for their next class, a campus aid walked in and informed me that I would have to keep this group of students in class with me until the power outage was over.  I think my response was, "Um, wha...?  Come again?"  She explained that for accountability purposes, all students were required to stay with the last teacher who took their attendance, that way they would know exactly where everyone was.  That just went in one ear and out the other.  I was like, "No Amy, you can't leave me here!  Take me with you!" as I flung my arms around her feet and allowed her to drag me across the campus (this might be a good time to mention that 6/7th period is my rowdiest bunch. And that I might be bit of an unreliable narrator). My students, on the other hand, were elated, with shouts of "Yay! We get to stay with you all day Mrs. P! ALL DAY FOR ETERNITY." (Again, unreliable). Basically the prospect of spending the day trapped in room 405 didn't bother them a bit.

So I did what any sensible 7th grade teacher would do in this situation.  We played Heads Up Seven Up.  Followed by Silent Ball.  And Spelling Bee Ball.  I even came up with a little slogan--a mantra, if you will:

Staying Alive in Room 405.

Catchy, huh?

Anyway, a few minutes before lunch (yes, it's been half of a day at this point--aka: Half of eternity) the school counselor came into my room and told me that I was allowed to dismiss students for a 30 minute lunch.

"And after lunch would be a perfect time for them to go to a different class, right?" I asked.
"Nope.  These kids will return to your class."

Oh good.  Because I hadn't gotten my fill of them yet.    

After a very dark and strange lunch (I think the students ate emergency peanut butter jelly sandwiches or something), I plodded dejectedly hurried enthusiastically back to class where I was greeted by my now-high-on-sugar 7th period.  Because I was starting to look like this,

I decided to send two of my students to fetch some board games from nearby teachers.  We managed to procure four games of Monopoly.  This was a GOD send.  I divided the class into four groups, and we spent the rest of our time together playing a classic game that has virtually no end--which is perfect for a day that has no foreseeable end either. 

On a side note, I am now adding Monopoly to my survival kit for both home and school purposes.  As far as I'm concerned, it's right up there with food, water, flashlights, and batteries.

Oh (another side note), speaking of flashlights, did I mention that mine was dead?  I've had an emergency flashlight in my classroom for seven years now, and the first time I go to use it, it doesn't work.  Words can not describe how much fun it is to try to use the staff restroom in pitch darkness.  Especially for those who enjoy stubbing their toes on porcelain and head-bashing walls.  And don't even get me started on the damn toilet seat liner.

So back to my story.  Monopoly saved my hide, and the power finally did come back on that afternoon.  Turned out a transformer exploded underground.  Trinity was in P.E. jogging right passed the transformer when it happened, so she heard the boom and saw the cloud of dust.  But even better than that is the fact that she was stuck in her P.E. clothes all day.  That's every girls dream, right there. 

During 1st period, the principal came into my classroom, and announced in front of all my students that I had won Teacher of the Year at my school site.  That was just...wow.  My kids went crazy, and I cried a little.  She told me to dress nice on Wednesday because they're coming to take my picture for the paper.  I don't know who "they" are or what "paper" she's referring to, but I told her I had already set aside a nice sloppy outfit for Wednesday and now she was jacking with my mojo. 

After 1st period ended, it was time for homeroom.  And I'm sure you can guess what kids I have for homeroom.

7TH PERIOD.

Yep.  They came in, and I said, "Hi guys!  I missed you!"  'Cause, you know, we just didn't have enough time to truly bond.

And that officially ends the story of the longest Friday I have ever had in my whole life.  But hey, did I mention that I won TEACHER OF THE YEAR??  And let me tell you, I was truly feeling the whole teacher of the year thing when I was screaming, "No, I get to be the thimble!"

Oh, one more little thing.  As I alluded to earlier, we dropped off our new cat (Toshi) to the vet to get her spayed.  They called around lunchtime where the following conversation commenced (Vet = red):

"Where's your cat's uterus?" 
"Um, I don't have it." 
"Well we can't find it." 
"Okay...do you want me to go over there and look for it?" 

After exploring around in her stomach some more, they finally concluded that the cat had already been fixed and stitched her back up.

Yeah, that's a little awkward.

But it was an honest mistake.  Clint's sister had the cat before us, and when she took Toshi in to get her vaccinations, she was told by the vet "your cat is in heat."  Little did the vet know that Toshi is just a really affectionate cat.

So the poor cat came back completely stoned last night from a surgery she didn't even need.  Not many animals get fixed twice, so I'm glad this one has nine lives.

*(post written on 5/10 but published later to give Shan's very cool  technology post more time on top)

Hide the Tape

While talking about my "Oh no, I have to spend money" dilemma, I completely forgot to mention what little angels my students have been this week.  On the morning of April 1st, one of my students asked if they were allowed to prank me.  Being a good sport, I said, "Sure, bring it on.  As long as it doesn't involve glue."  I ate those words later. 

First I attempted to get a drink of water from my sports bottle, but nothing came out.  It turned out that there was a piece of tape over the nozzle.  Later I tried to get a drink of water from my fountain (my classroom has its own drinking fountain), and it sprayed all over me.  That would be because the kids put a piece of tape over the spout.  After that the counseling department called, but when I grabbed the receiver, it was stuck.  It had been taped down to the base.  Once I got it unstuck and began talking into the phone, the secretary told me it was muffled--she couldn't hear me.  I examined the phone to discover that, over the speaker, there was (you guessed it) a piece of tape.

Throughout the day, I also discovered my microwave and my refrigerator had been taped shut.

To their credit, the kids did ask me permission first.  And they did abide by my rule of "no glue."  But I have learned now that when kids ask me for permission to pull pranks, my answer should be a resounding hell no.  Or I at least need to stock up on tape, cuz I'm running low. 

In somewhat related news, a parent of a struggling student decided to sit and observe my class during 1st and 2nd period today.  I was actually looking forward to it, because this is my best class, and I was doing a creative lesson.  Now you would think that students would be on their best behavior when another adult is in the room.  But that would be a NO.  Halfway through the period, one of my students shouted out, "Mrs. P., for April Fools I convinced my mom I had knocked up some chick.  She was MAD!"  I think the parent's jaw just about hit the floor.  I mean, this isn't a high school class.  My students are 12 and 13 years old. And we weren't even talking about April Fool's.  We were talking about bibliographies.  It's like he stored this one little tidbit in his head for the explicit purpose of pulling it out at an opportune time. 

Once the shock wore off from that, a student, who was researching facts from different resources laying on his table, blurted out, "Mrs. P., is URANUS really the name of a planet??"  I said, "Yes, it is, but it's not pronounced 'your'--um--hey, who wants to talk about Pluto?  Let's talk about Pluto!" 

The final straw was during student presentations.  A group of four students came up to share out their research and put their bibliography sentence strips on the board.  One student was wearing a giant paper diaper (which was disturbing in of itself) on account of "dress like a baby" day.  While his group was sharing, he took a yellow marker and, before I could contemplate what he was up to, he colored his crotch yellow.  I said "Chase!  WHY?!"  He said he was trying to be an 'accurate' baby and then turned around, showing the class the brown blob he had colored on his ass.  I told him that I was officially going to require therapy for the rest of the week.

And this is my best class.

Who Let the Dog Out?

So yesterday I was in my classroom, getting all of my stuff together for the State Writing Test, when my phone rang.  It was the front office.  The following conversation commences:

"Hi Mrs. P., your dog is here."
"Huh?"
"Your dog is here."
"Wait--what do you mean my dog is 'here'?  Define here."
"Here, in the office."
"Um, well, okay.  I'll be right down."

I then proceeded to the office, where I found Cleo--my rambunctious drooling Great Dane--bouncing around in the counseling department, making friends with students and staff alike.  Now normally I would have had a campus aid cover my class for twenty minutes while I dragged my sorry mutt home (in a universe where this situation is considered "normal").  But that morning I was administering the State Writing Test, a process which requires us to watch a video and sign an affadavit in advance.  Today was the one day that a campus aid could not watch my class.  Since running home wasn't an option, one of our secretaries grabbed my keys and my daughter, and the two loaded Cleo into her Jeep and took her back home.

Oh, Cricket and Yang got out too, and also showed up at my school.  The only difference is they didn't hang out like Cleo.  They got tired of campus life pretty quickly and ran back home.  The secretary brought Cleo home and put her in the chicken coop area in our backyard, but put the two smaller dogs in the house, knowing that they would probably get out again.  I gave her my blessing in all of this, but there was a good two hours where I was stressed, wondering what kind of havoc the dogs were wreaking in my house.  They've been in the house countless times when we're home, but never by themselves.  I was imagining trash spilled throughout the house, an upturned bird cage, a chewed up couch....

As it turned out, the only thing that was out of place were a couple of Elijah's toys and a block of dehydrated Top Ramen on the living room rug.

Later my sister-in-law checked on the dogs, and she found Cleo running down the street with our cat.  She then took all three dogs back to her place until Clint got off of work.

Upon investigation, it looks like one of the smaller dogs dug out, the other followed, and--seeing those two flaunt their freedom in the front yard--Cleo jumped the fence.  As far as what prompted Cleo to run all the way to my work and into our front office, either a) I have a very strong chemical trail, or b) She followed a student as he walked or rode his bike to school. 

A little concrete and chicken wire we *think* have resolved these issues.

Here's Cleo at eight weeks old....

Does that look like the face of a trouble maker?

Here's Cleo, a little more grown up.  This picture was taken on January 30th, so she was about four-and-a-half months old.

She turns six months old next week, so she's significantly bigger now.  She still puts her giant head and paws on my lap, but the rest of her has to stay on the floor. 

Tumbleweed Days Parade

Remember last year when I said I was stuck in a time loop?  Probably not.  But I feel like I am.  I keep repeating the same exact events year after year.  Everything around me seems frozen in a perpetual state of unchangingness (spellcheck is having a field-day with that one), except for me.  I get older every year.  So it's a really f'd up time loop.

That being said, today was the Tumbleweed Day's Parade.  It was awesome!  Even though this event is part of my jacked up time loop, I always come out of the parade on a complete high.  This year we had fifty kids marching.  That was huge.  I was told by past Builders Club members that seven years ago, they only had six or so students participating.  So we've basically gone from six to fifty.  I seem to have a knack for convincing students to sacrifice their Saturdays for grueling, unappealing jobs--it's a gift, really.

Here we all are.  I'm the little dot on the right-hand side, half-crouched with the sunglasses and gray hat near the end of the second row.

Oh, Tumbleweed actually has its own zoo now (can you believe that?), so this year's parade featured a live camel, zebra, and boa constrictor too.  Those were fun additions.  

This morning I woke up to the worst alarm ever.  Olive (the chicken) climbed into the backyard with the dogs, and we woke up to her shrieking all over the yard as they basically attempted to run her down and eat her.  This was right before 6 a.m.  Luckily Clint heard all of the commotion and saved the chicken before she was gobbled up, although there is now a barrage of feathers all over the back yard.  He temporarily put the dogs in our room while he was getting Olive back into her fence, and what does Yang do?  He walks straight to my backpack--the one with all of my students' parade permission slips, sign-in sheet, and other field-trip forms--and pees all over it.  Call me crazy, but I think no person should have to deal with two crazy dogs, one pissed-on backpack, and one frantic chicken before the sun rises.  ~Jodi

Fish in Trees

Like me; if I were to be judged by my sense of direction, I would be classified as a complete idiot.  I can't count the number of times I've walked out of a public restroom and immediately turned the wrong way because I have no recollection of how I got there in the first place.  I have zero navigation skills.  Yet I can write an ethnographic comparative study on bilingual education with no problems.  And then you have Clint, who can't spell to save his life, yet troubleshoots and solves mechanical challenges as if they're mere baby blocks.  It really does seem like everyone has their own little inner-genius.  But I have to ask, if the fish can't climb a tree OR swim in water, then are we allowed to call it stupid?  Because some of the people I've come across in Wal-Mart....I'm just sayin'......

But seriously, I love this quote.  It reminds me of the artists in my classroom.  I get them every year--those students who are so amazingly creative, who have imaginations as tall as Mount Everest, yet are hopeless when it comes to memorizing the difference between a conjunction and a preposition.  These kids end up suffering perpetual inferiority complexes because the kind of intelligence they possess is never tested nor validated.  The academias, on the other hand, constantly get their egos groomed with 'A' papers and high test scores.  Funny how the ability to correctly fill in a bubble seems to hold more value in today's society than the ability to create something unique and beautiful.

Not to change the subject (I don't get that transition because every time someone says that, they are changing the subject), but I keep neglecting my blog.  For some reason, I tend to leave my poor blog high-and-dry every summer.  I will say that I've been working on my manuscript a lot lately.  I still can't believe how long it takes to write a book.  I wish I could hurry up and finish this one, because a) I want to see it done, and b) I have other plot lines in mind now for other stories, but I feel like I can't start those ones until I finish this one.  Here are a few more quotes from the story.  These first three are from one of my more scholarly characters, Mr. Chronos.   

“For the people who thought the world was flat, it was.  For them.  Because that was their reality.”

“I’ve learned in all my time that words have power.  But only if someone believes them.”

"Visiting the past is like studying a history book or gazing upon old snapshots.  Our desires for it, our joys, our regrets, accomplish nothing.  We can’t change the past.  Not in this timeline.  But the future is different.  It is malleable, a constant work-in-progress, represented by many possibilities, countless timelines.  It is perpetually being molded by our current choices.  You must realize it’s impossible to see the whole picture of something that has yet to take shape.”

The dude's really growing on me, even though he does condemn his own daughter to a terrible curse.  

This last excerpt is the main character's internal thoughts, and ironically, might be edited out of the story due to a conflict it presents.  So I guess you might think of this as a potential deleted scene.

Like rich soil absorbing the morning dew, realization seeped through me slowly, little by little, until I was thoroughly nourished with this new knowledge.  Yes, I had believed him.  At that last second, right before I brought the bottle down, right before the pain ripped through me, the smallest flicker of belief had alighted within me.  And it was just enough.  It was the tracest amount necessary to force the invisible—yet potent—hand of the Laws to bring down their gavel upon me.  I had become a threat to the rules of the universe, and now I needed to serve time under Stryder’s curse.  Stryder’s curse was now my curse.

Okay, that's it for now.  If I put up anything real, my sis will start hyperventilating.  She really is a helicopter parent when it comes to my story.  ;)

I will say that trying to write a book is definitely not all sunshine and roses.  I wasted about four hours writing what I thought was an awesome half-of-a-chapter, but then discovered later that information from this new chapter completely clashed with information from a previous one.  I ended up having to scrap the entire thing.  It was pretty devastating.  I handled it with a lot of maturity though and didn't throw a temper tantrum at all, or scream and pout that I was never going to write again (nope, I would NEVER do THAT).  Eventually, after the temper tantrum I never had, I felt better and moved on with life.  Now I'm keeping all of my screw-ups in a separate folder, so at least they're not gone, gone.  Maybe I can put them all together someday and title it Jodi's Book of Random Oopses.  Or, better yet, Fish in Trees.

Terrorist Furballs

I don't really have anything to write about, I'm just eager to see MY post on top again.  ;-) 

Today was an awesome day, except for the fact that I woke up with a full-fledged cold.  Or allergies.  I can't really tell the difference.  I just know that my throat is sore, my eyes are watery, and I can't breathe through my nose.  We're talking real sexy stuff going on here. 

Speaking of allergies, have I mentioned yet that these kittens are TAKING OVER my house?  I know there's only five of them, but somehow it feels like thirty.  I have scratches all over my arms from the little bastards trying to use my appendages as their personal ladders.  There's a kitten at this very second attacking my fingers as I type. 

See?  Our poor goldfish.  He's going to live up to his name (Wasabi) pretty soon if these little furry terrorists continue to bully him..

Our spelling bee went great last week!  It was SO close this year.  Our finals went on way longer than they normally do, and the final two contestants (my student and Niecy's student) were neck-to-neck for quite awhile.  My student finally took the first place medal, which was pretty cool because it was her birthday that day.  She told me that she would definitely remember this birthday forever.  The first day of the bee, the fire alarm went off, and we had to usher an entire gymnasium of students out the door.  It turned out to be a false alarm, but the whole thing was pretty amusing.

I had that job interview today (rescheduled from Thursday).  I feel like the interview went well, so now I just have to wait and see.  I'll post as soon as I hear one way or the other.

My sister has made it clear that she's going to publicly make fun of my posts whenever the urge strikes her, but I think I did a pretty good job not providing her any ammunition this time around.

Oh yeah, the cat's in heat again.

Rodent Escapees & Staple-ectomies

Somehow this beautiful, open week got all crowded and busy.  Dang it.  I keep getting teased by a light at the end of an insanely long tunnel.

It's already getting late, so I'm just going to list a few quick updates.

1. Just participated in 7th grade orientation tonight.  It was fun meeting some of my future 7th graders...and having Trin enter my classroom as part of the orientation!  I don't know if I will ever get used to the idea of having my own child on campus (let alone in my classroom). 
2. I have a job interview this Thursday for a summer teaching position at the local community college.  It's for a high school program called Gear Up.  That stands for: Gaining Early Awareness and Readiness for Undergraduate Programs.  Yeah, it's a bit of a mouthful.  Do you ever wonder if people make up the acronym first, because it sounds catchy, but then they're stuck scrambling around to find words to fit the letters they chose?  No, you've probably never wondered that, because I'm sure you have a life.  Anyway, I found out about this position through Becky.  We met on Saturday for some much-needed girl time (lunch at a cozy Mexican grill, followed by wine), and she let me know that her program was hiring two language arts teachers.  She will actually be the one interviewing me this Thursday, which is sort of amusing to me.  How do you turn off the silly and turn up the professional when it's your girlfriend?  Guess I'll have the answer to that after Thursday.
3. I've been nominated for Teacher of the Year at my work.  This does NOT mean that I am Teacher of the Year, it just means that I'm in the final running.   I've known for almost two weeks now, but I didn't want to post it on my blog because it hardly seemed newsworthy (since it's merely a nomination).  But ultimately I decided that I still felt honored to be one of the final nominees.  Even if I don't get the final vote, I'd still like to remember that feeling of seeing my name on that sheet saying "Congratulations Jodi!"  That felt pretty good.
4. My pet rats escaped last night.  One of them I found right away (Ms. Frisbee).  She came crawling out of her little hole as soon as I turned on my radio.  But Ms. Whatsit pulled a disappearing act well into first period.  I actually had to walk down to the office and report to the V.P. that there was a rodent running around the school somewhere.  He nearly cried with laughter.  He said I had made his week.  Ultimately we found her (she was taking a nap in the students' file folders), and all was well with the world again.  Their little escape hatch has been safety-wired shut now, so there should be no more prison breakouts.
5. I had to perform a staple-ectomy on one of my students yesterday.  He stapled his finger.  I mean, really stapled his finger, to the point where the staple was completely embedded into his flesh.  I just applied lots of pressure, counted to three, and pulled that sucker out.  If you yourself have any surgery requirements, I'd be glad to assist.
6. Class pets made me think of home pets--we have five kittens and they are EVERY where in my house.  I haven't been able to breathe through my nose in two months.
7. Still pluggin' away at my manuscript.  In my next scene, I have to  gruesomely kill off a sweet rabbit, so I'm not looking forward to that.
8. I finally got around to posting the commissioned piece on my Glazey blog (I still love how that rhymes with "lazy" blog, since it pretty much is).
9. Spelling Bee starts tomorrow, and I'm the Master of Ceremonies person again.  I'm excited because I love the break from the classroom, hanging out with the judges, and eating chocolate (there's always chocolate). 

That's not everything, but I need to dig up some clothes for tomorrow and drag my weary arse to bed.

Paperclip Fashion

I have to wake up at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow to run a 5K.  6:00 a.m. on a Saturday.  Can there be a crueler punishment?  Well, I guess 5:00 a.m would be more cruel. 

Today I had these random, unsolicited surges of happiness.  Does that ever happen to you; where you wake up in the morning and just feel nothing but pure unadulterated joy?  Or is it just the manic in me?  At any rate, it was pretty ridiculous.  The lunch lady gave me a tiny Easter basket with chocolates, and I practically jumped over the counter to hug her, and of course I told her how much I loved her (it's okay though, she's used to it and loves me too).  Then when Mr. A. got in line behind me, I warned him that I was in one of my "happy" moods and he might want to keep his distance before I smothered him with affection too.  His response was to inquire what drug I was using, because he wanted in on it. 

Two other anecdotes from this week.  First, one of the class pets escaped and was running loose in my classroom all night.  I didn't know this until the next morning.  I was sitting at my desk, going through my e-mails, when I felt something tickling my foot.  I ignored it for a few minutes, thinking it was just the bottom of my pant leg tickling my ankle (it was Pajama Day), but then the tickling turned into a tugging.  That's when I realized there was a critter down there on my foot, but for a few suspenseful seconds I didn't know what kind of critter.  I slowly pushed my chair back, and there she was, Ms. Frisbee, trying to get my attention.  I'm just hoping she didn't chew anything during her overnight adventure.  For the most part it looks like she just ran around on the floor, but I'm still waiting for my microwave to explode.

The other thing is much smaller.  Today during fourth period I discovered something in my hair (don't worry, it was nothing alive).  A beautiful ring of colorful paperclips was wrapped perfectly around the very top of my pony tail.  They even had a pretty pattern to them.  The only problem is....I didn't put them there.  When I made this discovery, I immediately jumped up from my desk, pulled the clips out of my hair (I had to carefully unclasp the circle first), and shouted "What the hell is this?!"  Some students in the class started cracking up, and one student in particular (one of my favorites) was having a hard time making eye-contact with me.  I'm pretty sure he was responsible.  I'm just trying to decide whether I should feel impressed or disturbed.  How does a student manage to clip an entire circle of paperclips almost decoratively into his teacher's hair without being caught?  That's ninja right there. 

Going to try to get to bed early tonight so I'll be fresh for tomorrow's break-of-dawn torture.  Quick shout-out to my follower from Germany--welcome back to the states (again)!

Two Different Worlds

It's been a pleasant weekend so far.  On Friday night I went skating with my Builders Club. We're all going to Universal Studios in a couple of weeks, but I wanted to put together an informal field trip for the kids who couldn't go to Universal.  The club voted on skating, which thrilled me because that's one activity I'm really comfortable with.  We ended up having an incredible time.  Toward the end of the night we played this insane game of tag (to loud music, beneath a disco ball in the dark), and at one point I swear there were about a dozen of my students "it" with me being their only prey.  It was fine with me though, because even though I'm "old," I'm fast on skates.  The only almost-accident I experienced was when a little boy cut me off.  I was speed skating and had no way to stop or swerve in time, so I ended up picking him up right off the ground before colliding into him.  I carried him long enough to slow down (about eight feet or so) and then set him back down on his skates.  I told his mom I was really sorry, but she was cracking up.  I guess it must be a little weird when some crazy person on skates plucks your little kid right up from the floor.

Yesterday the kids promoted in karate.  Well technically Trin can't promote anymore until her black belt test this summer, but she still participates in all of the ceremonies.  Elijah promoted to a brown belt, so I'm really proud of him.  Unfortunately his promotion ceremony was really boring.  I think my eyes were starting to glaze over.

Today we went to church, out to lunch to this Chinese restaurant that I love (I always get shrimp in lobster sauce), and shopping.  Once we were back home, I painted for about two hours.  I'm finally making some headway on the commissioned painting.  It's actually pretty fun to paint, even though it's not my style.

We're getting ready to go to Clint's parents house for pizza, so I better sign off..

This is not my painting (I wish it were); this is an image I came across online yesterday.  I just find it interesting.

Guest Post: Five Ways I Stay Sane as Teacher

Teaching is such a rewarding career. It is also one of the craziest. I’ve heard of people who make a job out of “extreme skydiving” or “extreme rock climbing,” but I’m almost certain that these jobs can’t get any more extreme than teaching. When I first started, I often felt like I was in the midst of a category five hurricane. I never really felt in control. Today, it’s a different story.

It took some time, but eventually I learned how to manage my classroom and find my Zen. This came from learning though my own experiences and taking advice from other teachers. This job may have tried to break me down in the beginning, but by practicing a few habits, I now stay calm in the eye of the storm.

As others did for me, I would now like to offer my own advice on how to stay sane as a teacher:

1. Keep a diary: This could be because I teach English, but I discovered that when I wrote about a day that didn’t go particularly well; the day never sounded half as bad when I read the diary entry back to myself. I have dozens of diaries now. It’s my way of purging bad feelings and thoughts.

2. Bring the comforts of home to my classroom: The floors in my classroom are tile, which seem very cold and hard. To warm up my space, I purchased a colorful yet durable rug and placed it under my desk. I also placed a few framed family photos, a pretty lamp and a radio on the bookshelf behind my desk. This turned the classroom into my classroom which, for some reason, gave me a greater sense of comfort and control.

3. Stay healthy: Teaching is a pretty germy job, and the stress can beat your immune system down even more. After a few bouts of the cold virus, I realized that I needed to start taking better care of my body. I now take a daily multivitamin with extra Vitamin C and try to work out at least four times a week. I also stopped drinking coffee all day. After my morning cup, I only drink water the rest of the day. I’m not saying this prevents sickness, but I definitely feel better than before.

4. Keep reading (or keep practicing a hobby): I teach English, because I love reading and writing. However, when I first started working, I became inundated with my lesson plans and didn’t write or read a new book for at least 14 months. This actually hurt my students, because I was losing the passion I had for the subject. Now, once I finish a book, I move on to another one, and I write in my diary nearly every day.

5. Keep work at work: I found that when I brought my work home, I never took the time to escape from my job and enjoy my family and hobbies. Even if it means staying later, I now try to finish all work at school before going home.

Another thing I had to do was learn how to let go and realize that no teacher is perfect. Honestly, once I came to that simple realization, most of my anxieties disappeared.

By: Lori Hutchison

Lori Hutchison teaches high school English and owns the site: http://www.mastersinteaching.net/.  In her spare time, she enjoys writing guest blog posts about various topics of interest; especially teaching!