A Bad Kid Magnet?

One of my absolute favorite kids, a girl I had last year, was expelled for the remainder of the year this week.

This just breaks my heart.

I love Goth Girl, although, to be honest, it certainly wasn't love at first meeting. She's got my first discipline referral last year for writing graffiti on a seat in the theater. However, if you took the time to know her (which many people don't because she can be pretty off-putting) she's a good kid, although incredibly screwed up, most of which is the direct result of her mother who's pretty screwed up herself. I tried and tried and tried to get mom to show up at school for a meeting (made appointments, never showed) and to send in a current doctor's diagnosis for ADHD (which Goth Girl could be a poster child for) so I could at least get her on a 504 plan. No luck. Mom talked a good talk but was too busy fooling around on her husband to spend any time on her kids. Goth Girl, like her mother, is all about drama and she generates drama and uproar wherever she goes. She also has absolutely no impulse control and a complete inability to think about consequences before she does something. However, although I'm definitely not a fan of medicating kids, when she was on her medication for the ADHD (which wasn't often) she was a perfect, model child and a lot of her behavior issues disappeared; she would actually stop and think before she did something.

That being said, she absolutely craved attention and if you gave it to her, you won her as a fan for life. Something as simple as a pat on the back and a "good job", could earn you a smile that would light up the room. I was hoping that 8th grade would be an improvement for her, and it started off pretty well. Not as many stints in ISS, not as many suspensions, and it was looking good. However, the little stuff started to add up and pretty soon she had enough discipline points and landed in alternative school for a while. She came back, had some conflicts with some other girls (like I said, it's all about the drama), and ended up in trouble again. I'm not exactly sure what the final straw was, but when I walked through guidance earlier this week and saw her there, I knew it wasn't good. She came over, gave me a big hug and said she was being expelled. She wasn't happy about it, and goodness knows I wasn't either.

The next day, three more of my kids from last year came by during homeroom to let me know the news, in case I didn't already know. All three of these kids, including Stoner Boy and the ever-popular Stoopid Boy, are the sort of kids that usually cause teachers to consider early retirement. They were, however, the kids I really did well with and the kids I really enjoyed. They were good, usually, for me, and if they got out of hand it didn't take much for me to get them back in line. They'd then go into other classrooms and act like holy terrors.

My homeroom kids watched these three with interest. Most of them know them, if not personally, then by reputation. After they left, one of my girls, Amazon Girl made an interesting comment. "Mrs. Bluebird, you're like a bad kid magnet."

"A what?"

"A bad kid magnet. All the bad kids love you."

I guess we have to be good at something in this world.

The Fear and the Fury

We were supposed to have our Family Literacy Night tonight at school. However, Mother Nature being the cantankerous sort that she is, the district decided to cancel all after school-activities so we could get all the kids home before the severe weather hit us later this afternoon and evening. Interestingly enough, we were the only county in the area that didn't send our kids home early, but that could be because we send them home early as it is - our school day ends at 2:05.

Because it was kind of nice having a bit of time without a parent meeting, a staff meeting, or a tutoring class, I volunteered to be part of the skeleton staff that stuck around just in case one of the buses had to turn back due to weather. I'm a junkie about weather anyway (Dad worked meteorology for the airlines when I was little) and it's my favorite unit to teach. So, I worked on lessons for next week, watched The Weather Channel, and scooted out at 3:15. The storms seemed to have sidestepped us for the most part, leaving the really bad stuff for areas further south.

I'll be honest and say that I teared up when I heard the news about the High School in Enterprise, Alabama getting hit by a tornado. Although we train for it, practice our drills and emergency procedures, and read through our handbook, the reality is none of us ever really wants to be at school when something like a tornado hits. The idea of a kid getting seriously hurt, or killed, on my watch just leaves me with an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel responsible for these children, and even though I have no control over the weather, I still would feel somewhat responsible if something happened. We have had tornadoes here before, and we will again. It's just a matter of time.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the students, faculty, and staff of Enterprise High School. Hopefully this horrific event will bring out the best in people, and not the worst.

Come Back You Cowardly Rascals!

So I walk my tutoring kids up to the office for dismissal this afternoon and see Mrs. Talladega, the Guidance Goober, and a few others who are walking their students up as well. Someone asks The Secretary where The Principal is...her van was parked out back but she's not to be found.

"Oh, she's chasing skateboarders," says The Secretary.

"Oh foot?" Mrs. Tallaedga asks.

"Oh yes! She saw them out front, called the police, and went out to talk to them and they took off. She took off after them. Mr. Enforcer hopped in his van and took off as well."

We stand there with our mouths hanging open.

The Principal is out there running after a bunch of twerps on skateboards?

Now to put this in proper perspective...The Principal is always, but always, dressed perfectly. Even when I've seen her in jeans and a sweatshirt she manages to look elegant and refined like Southern ladies are supposed to look. She looks more put together in her grubbies than I can manage to look when I try to get all dolled up for a wedding or a banquet.

So, to picture her running after a bunch of boys on skateboards is just almost beyond imagining. However, they've been wrecking the planters in front of our building, destroyed some concrete benches and planters all around the school, and damaged one of our storage buildings by their stunts. Not to mention skating all over our human-sized chessboard out back so it will need to be repainted - yet again. The Principal, in short, has had it with these kids.

So she took out after them.

A few minutes later she comes back in, a broad smile across her face, her hair barely out of place.

"Did you get them?" we ask.

"Oh yes," she says. "They weren't very smart. They never scattered the whole time, they just kept running in a pack so it was easy to track them down. Mr. Enforcer even got ahead of them and turned and blocked them in. And the police gave them all citations.'

She pumps her fist in the air and walks back to her office.

You know, there's some days you just need a brisk run to relieve the stress. Even if it means you're chasing skaters.

Something to Think About, or, Are We Creating Monsters?

In a conversation with Mrs. Eagle, who is in charge of the committee for our school improvement plan that comes up with our school goals, it came to light that our discipline referrals have jumped 85% this year.

Yup....Eighty-five percent.

That is simply unreal, and, as you can imagine, unacceptable. Obviously something needs to be done about this. The question arises, however, on what is causing this huge increase. Two-thirds of our student body, more or less, were here last year, so it's not like we have a huge turnover in our student population - we lost the eighth graders and gained sixth graders as we always do. The huge number of referrals are spread fairly evening through the grade levels, so it isn't one grade level causing the problems. We have most of the same teachers (although the 8th grade has suffered some changes due to some illnesses and resignations due to spousal transfers). The administration is the same. And I checked with the Guidance Goddess and she said most of the referrals were pretty significant, for things like disruption, and weren't just a whole bunch of referrals for tardies sliding in. So what is causing this?

Mrs. Talladega, who's taught both 6th and 8th grade math over the years along with the tech class (and who has two middle schoolers at home) was of the opinion that, in a previous year's attempt to lower the number of referrals, we let the little things slide. We were encouraged not to slap a referral on a kid but to do a lot more counseling and mentoring in the hopes to discourage the unacceptable behavior before it reached referral status. (In other words, more warm fuzzy stuff.) As she put it, murderers don't start off murdering people, they usually start off with little crimes like robbery, aggravated assault, domestic assault, and so on. She does have a point. Perhaps this group of kids realized that they got away with the small stuff and have moved on to bigger things. Something to consider.

I'm wondering, however, if all the emphasis on high-stakes testing is playing a role. In my readings through the blogosphere I've come across comments from some teachers who indicate that they've changed their style of teaching (usually at district demand) in order to do more worksheets, sample tests, and so forth. I remember reading (somewhere, I wish I could credit the source but I can't remember) that a high school reading teacher was lamenting the fact that she was only able to fit in less than half the novels she usually covered due to demands to do more "testing" type instruction. We all know that kids act up a lot when they're bored, and frankly, I can't think of anything more boring than doing worksheets and drills day in and day out.

At a meeting this past year Mrs. Standard, our science consulting teacher, told us that we should go over sample test questions every day in class so the kids are prepared for their Big Deal State Tests in April. Mrs. Eagle and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Our kids see enough tests, and test questions, all year long and quite frankly, we're not wasting our time doing more of it when we can do some hands on cool things (like make chia pets for our plant unit). The fact that our scores are high means that everyone pretty much leaves us alone and lets us do what we want in the classroom, a luxury a lot of teachers don't have. What we do, for the most part, is lots of cooperative work and lots of hands on stuff. Interestingly enough, both of us are on pace with previous years in terms of handing out discipline referrals - we don't hand out many and you really have to screw up to get one.

So...it's your turn. What do you think? Are behavior problems increasing due to the way some teachers are having to restructure their teaching to satisfy demands on high stakes testing? Or are we letting little things slide a bit too much and the big things rear their ugly heads later? Or is it a combination of both? Or is it something else? Let me know.

When Squirrels Lose Their Minds...and Their Nuts

A few years ago when our previous social studies teacher decided that middle schoolers had

stepped

on

her

very

last

nerve

and went to teach at the high school level, our principal asked those of us on the team what we would like in a social studies teacher. We all chorused, "a man" because we all knew that the boys in our school really need good strong male role models. And, there are times where just having a guy around comes in handy.

Case in point.

This morning during homeroom, when the kids are slowly trickling in from the buses and parent drop-off, Mr. Social Studies and I are just outside our rooms (our doors are practically next to each other) discussing something, most likely one of the girls in his homeroom who I need to talk to nearly every day about revealing clothing, when we see Mrs. Language come around the corner, leading about eight of our boys with her. She looked, for all the world, like one very annoyed Momma Duck with her little flock trailing behind in a desperate bid to keep up with her.

In fact, one of her flock, Tall Gangly Boy, was actually walking somewhat like a duck, hunched over in a half-crouch, and walking somewhat gingerly. Upon a second look it became apparent that he was also holding his private area.

"Stay here!" Mrs. Language barks, and her ducklings huddle in a mob near the lockers, their eyes downcast, toes kicking at the tiles. Tall Gangly Boy leans against the lockers, his face a rather odd shade of green.

She strides up to Mr. Social Studies. "You need to talk to them," she hisses, inclining her head towards her flock, "about why it's a damn stupid idea to do nut checking in the classroom."

Mr. Social Studies sighs, walks over to them and begins his lecture, hands on hips. It is his most imposing stance.

Nut checking, apparently, is the latest rage among our middle schoolers and consists of silly boys hitting each other - and hard - in the privates. Mrs. Language apparently heard a ruckus in one corner of her room, discovered three of her boys rolling on the floor in agony, grabbed them and the offenders gathered around them, and marched them over to us.

By the time Mr. Social Studies finishes his lecture the boys are looking even gloomier, although Tall Gangly Boy is looking a lot less green. He strides back over to us, shaking his head. "Morons." he says.

"Thanks," says Mrs. Language. "I figured you owed it to us."

"How's that?" Mr. Social Studies asks.

"Well," she replies, "We take care of the girls with boobies hanging out so you can take care of the boys and their balls."

Carnival Time! Fifty Rides with No Lines!

It's time for the Education Carnival hosted this week by everyone's favorite Georgian, The elementary History Teacher at History is Elementary. She's rounded up over 50 great exhibits from all over the world of education - funny, sad, thought-provoking, maddening, you name it! Be sure to Check It Out!

Wow! I'm a Thinking Blogger (And All This Time I Thought I Was Just Whining in Cyberspace!)

First off, I'm just astounded that anyone actually reads this blog outside of the few friends who suggested I start one because my emails about life in public education were, in their words, so amusing. However, one of the bloggers that makes me think, Mrs. T over at La Chucheria, nominated me as a Blogger that Makes You Think. This just blows my mind because I just get out there and ramble with no purpose outside of perhaps keeping my sanity. I'm glad that others out there in cyberspace find it food for thought, so to speak.

Now my job is to list five blogs that make me think, which really would be quite easy except many of them have already been tagged. For example, the Education Wonks never fail to give me something worth reading and is also the home of the Education Carnival. Then there's Happy Chyck Wonders, with her absolutely fantastic writing, Elementary History Teacher (and I thought I knew history until I started reading her blog and learned a lot more), and, of course, A Shrewdness of Apes who has written posts that made me want to cheer she hits the nail on the head so often. And then there's California Teacher Guy who reminds me, often, about why we do this. And besides, I grew up in California so he reminds me of home.

That being said, here are five that I adore to read and who make me think (and who haven't, I hope, been tagged yet).

1. Leesapea at But Wait, There's More, is one of my all time favorite blogs and it's not just because she's a fellow middle school teacher. Anyone who can quote song lyrics and titles like she does is just plain amazing in my book. Besides, you can actually see her "squirrels", she describes them so vividly. She gives me ideas all the time on things I may want to try with my own squirrels.

2. Epiphany in Baltimore is another blog that makes me think. High School English teacher, single guy, and misguided Detroit Tigers fan (just had to get that dig in there), his blog makes me think, partially because he's on the opposite side of the political spectrum from me, and he works with the at-risk kids that I see more and more of.

3. Darren at Right on the Left Coast never, ever fails to give me information (and links to more information) about politics, education, and just plain crazy stuff. He updates frequently (bless is heart) and is one of bloggers I love to read. He also reminds me why I left the Left Coast.

4. The Science Goddess at What It's Like on the Inside, is another must read blog. She amuses, educates and entertains all at once. One day it's a funny story about her classroom, the next she's musing about educational strategies. It's worth reading.

5. Christopher over at Death By Children isn't a teacher, but a stay-at-home Dad and his posts are the kind that can leave you doubling over in laughter and at the same time thinking about just what happens to all our squirrels and critters when they leave our classrooms at the end of the day and go home. Honestly, I wish there were more Dads out there like Chris! He makes me realize that the craziness our kids exhibit in our classrooms continues right on home!

Congratulations all of you! And thanks, Mrs. T!

Keeping the Real World At Bay

As usual we received a number of new students after the holidays. One of these students was Ponytail Girl. Ponytail Girl was very quiet, and she apparently attended our school for a period of time last year so she fit in rather easily for someone who appeared to be so shy. It didn't take me long to figure out that this kid had some real problems when it came to reading, study skills, and basic comprehension. It also didn't help that she was absent a lot and never made up her work. In a month, even with modified tests and assignments, she'd made a 43% in science; her grades in other classes were just as bad. Miss Reading suspected she was reading at about a 2nd or 3rd grade level.

I added her to our latest support team list and presented her case at our meeting on Monday. We didn't have a whole lot to go on with this kid - no state test results, no grades from last year, no previous indications of special education testing, nothing. What I did find out was that her mother yanked both her and a sister out last year around the same time to home school them as they were "learning too much from the other students". Interesting. We decided to make some more modifications, such as having tests read to her, and review her case again after a month.

Interestingly enough I intercepted a note being written between her and another girl in my class the next day. They weren't being very smart about it as they sit at a table right smack in front, so I casually did my stroll around the room as they were labeling their flower picture and picked it up. Ponytail Girl had a death grip on the note, but released it as soon as I gave her That Look. I tucked it into my pocket and didn't have time to read it until classes changed.

Oh my.

Let's just say that it had to do with boyfriends, grown up activities, and protection. Things 12-year olds probably shouldn't be writing about, let alone doing.

I hightailed that note over to guidance where the Guidance Mom took one look at it and blinked several times. "Good gracious, this is exactly the kind of stuff her mom pulled her out of school for last year!"

Guidance Mom really had no choice but to call these girls in and call their families. The next day Ponytail Girl came around with a withdrawal form. Her mom was pulling her out - again - and sending her to a church-based home school group in the area (apparently the same one she went to before) which did not thrill Ponytail Girl. She told me she really enjoyed having teachers teach her things no one had taught her before - she specifically mentioned Mr. Social Studies and his PowerPoint on Egypt. She was not, she said, looking forward to doing nothing but workbooks.

I worry about this girl on a number of levels. One, the fact that she may have a learning disability is definitely not being addressed. There are a lot of good church-based schools, private schools, and home school groups in our area, but the one this child will be going to does not have a good reputation, compared to the others, some of which are excellent. Two, I think her mom
is a bit naive in thinking that she can protect her daughter from the real world. From all appearances the genie is already out of the bottle. In addition, how many stories have we all heard about kids with parents who protect them so extensively that they become wild when they finally get a little freedom? Perhaps instead of hiding her from the real world, she should be giving her lessons on how to deal with it.

But hey, it's not my kid. I just hope it doesn't end up being a tragic story.

A Little Mommy Goes a Long Way

I'm not a huge fan of Valentines Day.

Let me rephrase that...I'm not a huge fan of Valentines Day when it comes to school. I have nothing against buying Mr. Bluebird a card and going out to dinner. Sometimes we'll even splurge and catch a movie (although lately nothing interesting is even showing nearby). However, Valentines Day at school is just a step below the Day After Halloween.

In short, it's a day where the kids have lost their minds and are all hopped up on sugar.

First, they get candygrams delivered by the Jr. Civitan club, which was kind of amusing as three of my boys, instead of buying candygrams for their sweethearts, bought them for themselves! Then we get kids who bring in cookies and cupcakes for their classes to share. Fortunately for me, one of my mothers decided they didn't need the sugar and bought sausage biscuits from Hardees for the entire homeroom. They arrived toasty hot and the kids wolfed them down. Follow that with candy gifts from their friends, more lollipops, chocolate covered cherries from the Valentines store, you name it.

Secondly, Valentines Day, for some of my kids who've been whomped upside the head by the hormone hammer, is a big deal. Although they're only 12 and 13, some of them have "boyfriends" and "girlfriends" and "go out". This is, most likely, their first Valentines Day with romance in their lives so they're just all a twitter over that. (On an aside, I'm still trying to get one of them to give me a satisfactory explanation on how you can "go out" when you don't have a car.)

I can't wait until they're old and boring like Mr. Bluebird and I whose idea of a fun night out is catching dinner at Raffertys or Old Chicago and then hanging out at Borders and Best Buy perusing books and DVD's. We are excitement personified.

In any case, I did score some sweet Valentines from the kids which always make my day (and are now taped on my wall behind my desk). I even got two roses from one of my students who is also in my Title I tutoring class as well.

The best Valentine, however, came from one of the girls in my homeroom, one who arrived just before Christmas from somewhere Up North. Twiggy Girl is a tiny, tiny slip of a thing who struggles in school. Now some of this may have to do with her family situation. She apparently moved here with Mom, and two siblings and now they're living, in a trailer, with her cousin and her family. It's crowded, to say the least. She has, at best, maybe three different outfits. Right now we have temperatures around 20 degrees in the morning and I have yet to see her in any jeans that go down to her ankles; all her jeans are capri styled (or she's just outgrown them lengthwise). She originally showed up with a gigantic chip on her shoulder, but since then has softened a bit and realized that we aren't out to get her, and, in fact, are here to help her.

I started giving her a little "mommy time", making it a point of asking her about her day, seeing if she's got her work down for all her classes, helping her with her Science, and generally just giving her some attention. It has worked miracles with her. She's volunteering questions in class (and getting them right), she passed her last test, and she's doing all her work. Her grade is rapidly rising. It's still not easy for her, but it's better.

So last week when the PTO gave me two coupons for $3 to spend at the Valentines Store, I gave one to her. I told her how proud I was of her and how delighted I was that she was working so hard to bring her grades up. You would have thought I'd handed this kid a hundred dollar bill. Her eyes got huge, and she just blinked and blinked at me, as if she couldn't believe her good fortune.

On Wednesday there was an envelope in my box from the PTO which contained handmade Valentines cards that the kids made at the Valentines Store (thanks to the wonderful lady who donated all the cool scrapbooking supplies). I handed them out to the kids in class and got to the last one which was absolutely covered with foam hearts of every size and color. Whomever made this card certainly wanted to make a statement! I couldn't find a name for who it went to until I opened it up and discovered it was for me!

All it said was "I love you, from Twiggy Girl".

Carnival Time!

Whoo-hoo! It's Carnival time over at the Education Wonks. Check it Out!

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

I have this habit of playing music during my homeroom primarily because I think my students have an incredibly poor grasp of their Rock 'n Roll cultural heritage. They listen to rap and hip-hop constantly, which drives me crazy, and give me blank stares when I mention names of such luminaries as Jimi Hendrix.

I mean how can you go through life not knowing one of the greatest guitar players of all time? It's a shame, really.

So this month I'm honoring black history month by playing CD's by some of the greatest African-American artists in rock and pop history (which includes Jimi Hendrix). I'm whipping out Otis Redding, James Brown, and Aretha Franklin, to name just a few.

So today I'm playing Aretha, the Queen of Soul, and the kids are milling around, catching up on homework, chatting with their friends, and doing the usual killing time activities until the bell rings and they can go to their lockers. I look up and one of my kids, Smile Boy, is standing up at his desk, working on his grammar, and dancing along to the music. Not just dancing, but really, really dancing, arms swinging, feet moving, he was GROOOVIN....

It's then that I notice that there are about four other kids doing the same thing...they're dancing in their seats, be-bopping around the pencil sharpener, and basically just having the best time listening to Aretha do her thing.

It was heaven.

See Any Dead People Lately?

We had a meeting with the Mrs. Saint, the teacher in the Emotionally Disturbed unit, about one of our students, Doughboy. It was time for his annual IEP meeting, and although Mom didn't show (no surprise, she's disabled and it's tough for her to get to school), we had the meeting anyway.

I actually didn't even realize that Doughboy was one of Mrs. Saint's kids until I'd had him for a few months and I got some paperwork for him. He's worked his way out of her unit and is in all normal classes at this point. He does pretty well. He's average in intelligence although he talks so fast it's sometimes hard for anyone to understand him. He's goofy and the kids can usually talk him into doing stupid things, which is a problem. He also has some major anger management issues, but so far has been able to control it this year.

So we were somewhat surprised when we asked Mrs. Saint what his actual diagnosis was and she mentioned that he was diagnosed as psychotic and borderline schizophrenic. She mentioned that he's heavily medicated and fortunately that makes him able to function in the normal school population.

She mentioned that last year, when he was a 6th grader and she first came to her unit, she was just getting familiar with him and he seemed to be pretty normal (for her group of kids). She said that one day he was sitting at his desk, working away, while the other kids were having a bit of a conversation around him. The conversation consisted of saying lines from movies and seeing if the other kids could guess what movie it was. Doughboy isn't participating until he hears the line, "I see dead people". At this point Doughboy lifts his head up from his work and says, "I see dead people all the time too, but now I take lots of medication for them and I haven't seen them for a while." At that he turns back to his work and continues.

Mrs. Saint reports that there was complete silence in her room for a few minutes as the kids digested this interesting bit of information. After a few minutes they sort of shifted away and went to work on something else.

Isn't it interesting the kids we get?

The Fine Art of Slam Dancing

Taking a cue from some of the other middle schools in the area, we tried our first afternoon school dance this past Friday.

The idea was that the dance would start after school, thereby saving parents the trip to school to drop their kids off, and then another one to pick their kids up. It also ended at 4:30 so it was still light enough (although colder than all get out) for the walkers to walk home safely. The other idea is that the staff that helped on the dance would get home at a halfway decent hour, not 9:00 pm at night.

The Junior Civitan club sponsored the dance as a fundraiser and even pre-sold tickets Friday morning. Mr. Social Studies is one of the sponsors so he just gave us each 10 tickets and let us sell to our own homerooms - I found out later that over 400 tickets were pre-sold which is usually as many kids as we get to a dance anyway. They sold over a 100 that afternoon, so they did pretty well. They also saved money by not hiring a DJ - instead, one of the teachers hooked up her laptop to the speaker system in the gym and played tunes from there, which worked out great.

The kids were, however, really hyped up so we had our hands full keeping them in control. There were a few characters that Mrs. Language and I had to sit down on the bleachers for slamming into other kids. By the third time we'd had these two twerps on the bleachers, for the same stupid stunts, I'd finally lot my patience, especially when they protested that "we weren't doing anything wrong."

"Oh get over it!" I barked. "Your first clue you were doing something wrong was the first time we sat you down on the bleachers! But you don't learn from your first mistake, so you keep making it over and over again!"

"But we didn't..." they begin.

"And another thing," I continued. "I was slam dancing in all the punk clubs in L.A. in the late '70s and '80s before you were even born and you aren't even doing it right, for goodness sake! Heck you'd get the snot beaten out of you at a Sex Pistol's concert for out and out rudeness!"

Mrs. Language reported that by the time I'd finished my tirade their eyes had popped out of their heads and their mouths were hanging open.

One of them looks over at Goober Boy, one of my favorite kids from last year. He nods his head. "She's not kidding. She even plays the Ramones and the Clash in class."

Rudeboy gets his comeuppance

Rudeboy is most likely one of the rudest, most unlikeable kids we've ever had in our classrooms. He's huge...if you saw him walking in the mall, you'd think he was probably in high school, not seventh grade. He has to be well over 6' tall and he's just turned 13. He has a weight problem as well, and the corresponding health issues. You want to feel sorry for him, but it's nearly impossible to do so.

Sadly, he's also lazy, sneaky, and just plain mean. I've never seen a kid who can blatantly lie like this one. You can watch him walk across a classroom and see him slap a kid on the back of the head and he will deny it until the cows come home, and call you a liar in the meantime. He'll even deny it when the security tape shows him doing it. He will argue, yell out, and generally disrupt your class if he feels like it. His usual tactic will be to scream, "So and So's picking on me!", right in the middle of a lesson. He will run to an administrator every day to complain about a student picking on him, a teacher picking on him, a janitor picking on him, you name it.

However, that being said, this is the same kid who will walk down the hall and yell vulgarities at other students, call them names, threaten them, kick them while they're at their locker, so on and so forth. He's the classic case of the kid who got bullied so much he's turned into the biggest one on the block. I caught him doing it - again - on the way back from lunch on Monday and, amazingly enough he even admitted it. I said, for what seems like the 100th time, that I don't understand why he will complain about people teasing him and then he does the same thing to other kids. He then said he never complained about other students, which was kind of ironic as he'd written another formal complaint against one of them that morning. He is mean, and vicious, and the kids are somewhat intimated by him.

Today he was, as usual, upset with everyone and was running off his mouth, calling names, and being his usual unpleasant self. Mr. Social Studies and I were watching the kids in the hallway in between classes when we noticed an uproar across the circle by a drinking fountain and heard, "fight!". We took off and found Rudeboy sobbing and blubbering in a corner, with a gash across his head. Mr. Social Studies took him to the nurse while I got the name of the other kid from the witnesses, got him out of math, sent him to guidance, and got an administrator. Fortunately Mrs. Language watched my kids as well as Mr. Social Studies' kids while this was going on.

So what happened? (Thank goodness for security cameras.) It appears that Rudeboy mouthed off to the wrong kid, one with a cast on his arm. Rudeboy chases him down, most likely to make more rude and snotty comments, and the other kid got fed up and clocked him with the cast, thereby cutting open Rudeboy's head.

The fact that Castboy is half of Rudeboy's size made it a little more interesting.

Hopefully, Rudeboy will learn something from this, although I doubt it. I'm sure he'll come back from his suspension as rude and mean as he was before.

A day in the life of a middle school

5:45 am...Mrs. Eagle arrives at school and discovers that her snake, a 3 foot plus ball python has escaped over night. The search begins.

7:15 am...We get an email from a parent indicating that she's upset that someone called her husband regarding her son who was getting suspended for 5 days. Apparently there's a nasty divorce pending and we should have known not to call him. News to everyone, especially as the kid was the one who suggested we call dad since no one could find mom, and dad's name is on the emergency card. Dad, by the way, was stunned that kid was being suspended as his soon to be ex-wife and son had informed him that everyone was just peachy this year. He was also apparently in the dark about the five classes son is failing.

7:25 am...Mrs. Eagle puts out a "lost snake email" to the entire staff. As she hits the send button she happens to look up at the clock and spies a little snakey head peeking out from behind the number three. She promptly sends out a "snake found" email. Many sighs of relief from those who don't like slithery things.

9:30 am...I notice that a student, one of the kids from our Emotionally Disturbed unit who's usually not a problem, has a laser pointer with him. This is absolutely forbidden so I take it from him and tell him that his mom can come pick it up at the front office later today. He goes into melt down, tells me to "eff you", and then demands that I pay him $2 for it. At this point I nearly start laughing because it's so ridiculous (not the response he expected, I'm sure). I end up having to have him removed (which took two people) and Mrs. Squirrel said he went into a complete tailspin and total meltown in her office. Apparently the root of the problem was that he knew his mother wouldn't come pick it up as she had told him he wasn't supposed to have one in the first place. He's suspended now.

10:50 am...Lunch. Our kids nearly drove the cafeteria monitor, Miss Lovely, into a psychotic rage yesterday with accusations of food fights. They were informed that unless they wanted to eat in the classrooms, they better be writing us anonymous notes telling on the kids that were doing the tossing, because "you're just as guilty if you see someone do something wrong and don't tell." Eight names keep popping up and they got to spend lunch with Mr. Enforcer. The others had assigned seating. They whined and whimpered all through lunch. Some of those with Mr. Enforcer cried. It wasn't pleasant, I'm sure.

1:05 pm...The Guidance Goddess does her computer check of the local bookings put out by the sherrif's office and discovered that one of our mothers was arrested last night for violating an order of protection. She was also arrested for same thing and DUI last week. Her son, FluBoy (he loves to borrow all of my books about disease and loved the one on the 1918 flu epidemic) was out today as he was supposed to be at the court date for mom and dad's divorce. Something tells me that it was probably pretty ugly. I hope FluBoy is okay.

1:15 pm....We spot Fabio Boy and Stoopid Boy sitting in guidance. Apparently someone set off a stink bomb in the 8th grade hallway and all fingers pointed to these two critters. Knowing these two from last year...we're guessing Fabio Boy (sneaky little twerp) talked Stoopid Boy into doing it and now he's taking the fall. Regardless, Stoopid Boy stormed out of guidance and had to be fetched by Guidance Goober before he didn't something, well, stupid.

Oh, and we did some teaching here and there as well. I think.

Just a little flake here and there...

On Wednesday the television weathercasters were forecasting snow in epic proportions. (Well, okay, epic for this part of the country means about 2", but still...) And not only snow, but ice, sleet, freezing rain, the entire bag of Mother Nature's tricks. The kids at school that day were just besides themselves with glee because, with a 100% forecast (as per the National Weather Service website), they just knew we wouldn't have school on Thursday. The teachers were pretty gleeful as well because this time of year a snow day really comes in handy.

So we get up on Thursday, eagerly look outside and see...a dusting. Barely.

Counties left and right and north and south of us close for the day but we, sitting in the middle of a weird meterological pocket of nothing, didn't.

The kids came in, scowled, slumped in their seats and whined and whimpered all day about the Snow Day That Wasn't. We did, however, have about 11% absent that day, so it seemed a bit surreal. It's really strange when you're used to a class of 25 and only about 15 show up. The flu and strep has been hitting the area pretty hard and some of the school districts around us have actually closed for illness. We've had kids out sick earlier in the week, come back too early, then out again. The sounds of sniffling and coughing are fairly pronounced in the classroom.

So Thursday rolls by and the weather for Friday predicts a slight chance of flurries and maybe a snow shower or two. Definitely nothing to get excited about. The kids aren't even hoping for a snow day. Why bother?

Friday morning I get up at 4:40 am, look outside and it's white! And still snowing! And the news verifies that yes, we're actually closed for the day!

Mrs. Math calls me to make sure that I knew we were closed and mentions that she wasn't expecting this at all, so she didn't bring anything home with her. Neither did I. I wasn't expecting it either. Probably the first three day weekend I've had where I didn't bring work home. Now that's surreal.

Tournament Time!

It's basketball tournament time!!!

We aren't hosting the tournament this year so a bunch of us hoofed it down to the far reaches of the district to another middle school for the first series of games tonight. It's always a fun time with fairly large crowds (this is middle school after all, not college or even high school) and a lot of excitement. We all went tonight because, quite honestly, we weren't all that sure our teams would make it past the first round. They haven't had the best year this year, although our new boys' coach has made some huge strides with the guys - no more street ball like they're used to playing. They're playing like a team.

In fact, they got lucky and the first team they played with the one with the worst record. By the third quarter they were up by nearly 30 points. At this point Coach pulled the guys aside and made some lineup changes.

He put in the sixth graders.

Now we're talking little guys. Really little guys. Little guys who have a lot of heart, but spend most of the time on the bench because they're, well, little guys and they're only sixth graders. They have the next few years to mature into better ball players. And maybe grow a foot or two.

So Coach has the team huddled together and gives them the news. The two littlest let lose with these smiles that just light up the gym. They were playing! And they played their hearts out. They each got to try a couple of baskets (missed, but who cares?) and I was impressed that the bigger/older guys made a point to feed these two the ball. They ran and blocked and jumped and had the time of their lives.

What made it even sweeter? The rival coach realized that his team wasn't going to catch up so he did the same thing. Pretty soon the floor was full of little guys having the time of their lives.

And the crowd loved it.

The After School Gum Scraping Club

Apparently the 8th graders have lost their minds and decided that the "absolutely no gum allowed" rule does not apply to them. Everything from chomping like bovines to blowing bubbles has surfaced and the 8th grade teachers decided to lay down the law and write referrals. I think the final straw had to do with Mrs. Cool and a certain gooey substance on the bottom of her shoe - not a good thing by any measure.

Mr. Enforcer is a firm believer in having punishments fit the crime. Consequently we now have the After School Gum Scraping Club.

Teams of students are given rubber gloves and putty knives and are responsible for scraping gum (and other debris) from underneath desks and chairs for an hour after school.

We have an old building. With old furniture. And years of accumulated gum and other substances. We can keep them busy for days.

It is, in the words of the kids who cleaned up my room, "truly disgusting." Apparently three of them went into one of the sixth grade rooms today and only managed, in one hour, to clean two rows of desks it was so bad.

Mr. Enforcer reports that one of the scrapers swore he'd never chew gum again. "There's gum, gummie bears and boogers under there!"

Yup, truly disgusting.

Wishing...Hoping...Praying....

Yesterday all faculty and staff found a special message in our mail boxes. Someone (no one knows exactly who, but it had to be someone who gets to school really, really early, or left really really late the night before) had printed out a copy of a weather report showing snow a few days in the future.

Across the top was written, "Keep the Faith"...

Teachers, in case you didn't know, like snow days even more than kids do.

They Just Don't Make 'Em Like They Used To

Have any of you noticed that the pencils they make and sell these days are just, well, crap?

Mrs. Math first brought it to our attention a few weeks ago at lunch. "Have any of you noticed anything weird about the pencils this year?" she asked. "I don't think they're as well made as they used to be."

We all pondered that for a moment and realized that yeah, we had noticed something weird about pencils lately. For one thing, they don't sharpen well at all. The kids will try, and try, and try to get a decent sharp point on their pencil and all they get for their efforts is a useless little nub.

Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil
Grind-grind-grind
Look at pencil

...and on and on until everyone's teeth are on edge and I'm about ready to just give the kid a mechanical pencil and tell him to sit down.

And it doesn't matter what type of sharpener it is. I have an electric one and a new hand crank one, and neither one of them do a good job on some of the pencils the kids have. Of course my electric one is now starting to run on its own - with no pencil or student nearby - which is causing a bit of hysteria in some of my classes. Some kids are convinced there's a ghost in the room sharpening a ghostly pencil. If that's the case, he's using crap pencils just like the kids are.

Maybe it's the wood. I've noticed that on most of the pencils that don't sharpen well the wood is definitely lighter in color, nearly white in fact, than the pencils that sharpen well. This wood is so soft that I can pretty much pick at it and tear it apart with my fingernails. In other words, the pencil is pretty much useless.

I'm guessing that the pencils with the lighter wood, the ones that split and won't sharpen well are probably cheaper than the better made pencils. And since a lot of my students get free and reduced lunch you can bet that mom is buying them the absolute cheapest pencils she can buy in order to save money.

A pencil is a simple thing, but an absolutely vital thing for a student to have. And a pencil that won't sharpen is just useless.

I may just have to spend a bunch of my BEP money next year buying really good, reliable pencils.

And just what is the world coming to when you can't even rely on a damn pencil?

Ambush!

I had the wonderful experience of being ambushed by a parent today during my homeroom.

Mrs. Faraway apparently told the front office that she needed to go with her daughter to get something out of her locker. The front office, being short one secretary and dealing with a late bus, didn't think anything of it, poor dears. The locker wasn't the deal...she wanted to argue with me about a few things.

First off, she didn't like the fact that she didn't know what, exactly, we did in my class every day - this despite a weekly email that all my parents get that outline what, exactly, we're doing in class every day. This despite a posting on my website about what, exactly, we're doing in class. This despite my weekly and sometimes daily uploads to www.k12planet.com that let the parents know what, exactly, we're doing in my class.

This is apparently not good enough. In addition, her daughter apparently cannot fill out her agenda with her classwork and homework to let her mother know what she did every day.
Keep in mind this is the girl that has a look on her face as if she's a million miles away and truly doesn't seem to be connected with much of anything that's going on. Mrs. Faraway said that I should know that her daughter has these problems and that if I were a good teacher I would take the time to type out everything I write on the board, especially my classwork and assignments, and hand it to her daughter daily so that it can be stapled in her agenda and sent home.

I am aware that her daughter has these problems, I've read the IEP after all, but no where in there does it say that I have to fill out her agenda for her. Considering that is probably one of the very few things that she actually has to do in my class that involve writing, and doing something on her own, I don't think it's too much to ask that she actually does write in her agenda. After all, she gets a study guide, she gets a copy of all notes, she gets modified tests read to her, she gets copies of all the stuff the other kids write on their foldables so she can simply cut it and glue it on her foldable. In short, she's spoon fed more than any other kid in the school. In the other classes, where there is an inclusion teacher, Mommy expects that teacher to open her book, write in her agenda, and basically babysit her. And it's all because Mommy is a bully who wants us to do everything for her, and at the same time expresses the belief that Faraway Girl can grow and become independent.

Her mother is also incensed that I have the kids trade and grade workbooks, and that some "other child" graded her daughter's workbook (which was, by the way, removed from my room without permission - I don't like them to leave the room because they don't always come back). I think what really upset her is that the workbook was full of X's because, in two days of group work, her daughter actually completed 7 of 28 questions. And this is work that she had help with. In her words, "It's the teacher's responsibility to grade the papers, and you have no business letting children do it for you."

I guess I'm just a meanie who's abusing free labor...and here it is I thought I was using it as a good review tool and a way to grade 130 workbooks in ten minutes...Granted it takes me several hours to then review them and enter them in the gradebook, something Mrs. Faraway didn't want to hear.

The kick was all of this is happening in front of my homeroom class, in front of her daughter, and the kids are standing there with their mouths open. Mr. Social Studies was, thankfully, lurking outside the door in case it got really ugly and he heard most of it. I did point out that Faraway Girl could probably get more done if she quit socializing (she has, after all, discovered boys) and Mommy responded that "I've taken care of that." Really? Last I looked Faraway Girl was busy gawking at the blonde across the room and talking to her lab partner when she should have been FILLING OUT HER FREAKING AGENDA.

I finally drew the line in the sand, told her she really should take her complaints up to the office and schedule a meeting. She said she'd do that, and she left.

I feel sorry for Faraway Girl because this horror of a mother never, ever lets her do anything on her own. She has her so used to people doing things for her that she's lost the skills, if she ever had them, to even open her agenda, fill it out, or complete a worksheet.

I dashed off an email to The Principal letting her know about the ambush, and to give her a heads up.

Her response? A huge apology and the words that we all live to hear..."I've got your back."

On over-involved parents, special treatment, and bratty kids

As I've mentioned before, we have a very active parent-teacher organization at our school. They do fantastic things for the kids, the teachers, and the community overall. We have parent volunteers in our building every day, and some of the mothers (it's rarely a father, which is a shame) are at school all day long, usually in our large group instruction room where they set up the holiday stores, prepare the care baskets at Christmas, do staff luncheons, etc. I'm not sure what they're doing in there all day, but apparently they don't have jobs or anything to do at home because they're here.

And they're causing problems.

Most of the mothers are fantastic, do their thing, let us do ours, and never meddle. In fact, we had the daughter of the PTO president last year and it was wonderful - she never questioned anything we did and never expected or demanded special treatment for her daughter. However, this year we have three mothers who think they run our classrooms and the school. And since all three of their children are spoiled brats who tend to have behavior issues, it's causing some major problems, not only for us, but for The Principal who's about ready to beat her head (or someone else's) against a wall.

Case in point. These three children, Spoiled Princess Girl (who's mother actually teaches at another school so isn't a volunteer, but meddles via email), Brat Boy, and Snarly Boy never, ever eat in the cafeteria with the other students. Instead, they go to the large group instruction room where Mrs. Brat boy and Mrs. Snarly Boy will have lunch, usually a hot meal from Ruby Tuesday, O'Charley's or somewhere like that, ready for them. Our school has always had a policy that parents can come and join their children for lunch (and many do), but most of them will actually eat in the cafeteria, maybe bring a pizza, and will invite their child's friends to join in. Not this clique. See, they're special. And it's even better when the mother that's been tasked with getting lunch is late, because then the kids have lunch late, and they go back to class...you get it...late. There have been many times we've caught these three kids goofing off, unsupervised, in the LGI room, the administration has told the parents that they can't do that, but they ignore them and do it anyway.

And then they upped the ante. Over the past few months, instead of bringing lunch every day, they decide to check the kids out and take them out for lunch. Now, we only have a half hour for lunch, and these parents aren't about to go through a drive-through (interestingly, both Mr. Brat Boy and Mr. Snarly Boy own their own businesses so there's a bit more money available than most of our kids have in their lives). Instead, they take them out for a sit-down lunch which takes at least an hour, maybe more. This means that they miss the last half of fourth period with Mrs. Reading and Mr. Social Studies, and part of my class which is fifth period. (And yes, you can bet we're keeping track of these absences and late arrivals to class.)

Any idea on what kind of message this is sending to the kids?

It's interesting to hear the comments from the other kids regarding these special lunch arrangements. They are collectively referred to as "the PTO kids", and are considered popular although they are definitely not well-liked. The kids will openly say that they think the school has different rules for the PTO kids than they do for everyone else which drives the teachers on my team just absolutely nuts.

So it was wonderful when The Principal, after about the 20th conversation with these mothers, (who basically are ignoring her) told us she'd back us 100% on any behavior or discipline issues we had with these kids. Just be sure to document, document, document.

And it's turning out into all out war, especially between Mrs. Brat Boy and the World. In her words, he's just a being a boy, he's not a behavior issue, and it's just because we don't understand him. Uhm, let's see, he never turns in his work, won't open up his book (if he brings it), won't fill out his agenda, won't bring a pencil, and, because he's relatively smart, passes, barely with a D because he can test well. He also sits in isolation in most classes because he either won't shut up or he's picking on another kid. He's been earning a few stints in ISS for disrespect towards teachers, skipping class, and a few other stunts. His mother refuses to sign any of the discipline referrals because she doesn't "agree" with them. I've actually had several conversations with Mr. Brat Boy who's told me bluntly that he completely disagrees with his wife's ideas on discipline, and implied that the boys (there's a younger one as well) are causing a riff between the two of them.

Great.

Surly Boy isn't much better. He's unpleasant towards any adult in authority. He "lost" his agenda in October, and after about the third time of me asking his mother to please get him one, she told me that he had money to buy one for over a month. The next day I had him buy one and now he conveniently leaves it at home. He also refuses to have a binder because "it's stupid". Well, gee, it may be stupid, but according to the Director of Schools, it's required. Mrs. Snarly Boy came to my class last week to drop off Snarly Boy's books (which he leaves on the kitchen table several times a week) and I asked her to schedule a meeting with the team to talk about Snarly Boy's behavior, grades, and so forth. She vented to me that he's rude to her as well, she doesn't know what to do, blah, blah, blah (maybe not baby him by bringing him his books every day he leaves them and make him face the consequences?) She said she'd make sure to schedule a meeting because she could use our help. (It has yet to be scheduled.)

The last straw was this week when Mrs. Snarly Boy and Mrs. Brat Boy came to get their kids at lunch because they had to go on vacation to Gatlinburg. Mrs. Reading asked if Snarly Boy could wait just ten minutes as he had a test to take. No, she said, it was impossible to wait ten minutes. They had to go now. Mrs. Brat Boy, again, pulled her precious child out of ISS to reward him with a visit to Gatlinburg.

The Principal was livid.

Next week should be interesting.

Carnival Time!

Wow! Talk about overachievers! Our host, I Thought I Think, already has the Carnival of Education up and available for viewing this week!

I haven't had a chance to check them all out, but I highly recommend you look at Persephone's Box and learn about kids who staple their pants to their legs and the interesting "portals to another dimension". I about fell out of my chair I was laughing so hard!

Enjoy!

Ah, the sound of binder rings in the morning

We went back to school this past Thursday (nothing like easing everyone in with a very short week), and the kids were actually pretty well behaved. I've noticed for the past few years that Santa does something really weird over the holidays - it's as if he gives all my good kids the crazies (aka hormones) and they become nuts, and then the kids that were nuts before get something (a dose of maturity?) and they do a lot better. Interestingly enough, I didn't see any big changes in the kids, outside of some new clothes and a lot of haircuts, but time will tell.

We celebrated the New Year by cleaning out the science portion of our binders.

Binder are a Very Big Thing in our district. And getting to clean out the binders is a Very Big Thing to our students.

The binders, and the fact that Every Single Seventh Grader in the entire district is required to carry one , is an outgrowth of a program called AVID (Advancement through Individal Determination), which has been very successful in our high schools. (For more information on Avid, go here). In our high schools, AVID is actually a designated class that helps kids with organizational skills and study skills in the hopes to move these middle-of-the road kids into a higher achievement level. It's a really successful program and I've had a number of former students credit it for turning them around. Many AVID students end up going to college, something many of them may not have even considered before they entered the program.

So, a few years ago, The District decided to take some of the AVID concepts and implement them into the middle schools, with seventh grade being the focus. Our team piloted the program last year and now everyone's doing it. We did have the AVID teachers from the local high schools come down and show us what they do, and then we modified it based on the reality of seventh graders (and what we discovered last year). Face it, there are some things they are just not developmentally ready for.

The big feature of the program is The Binder. Every kid has a binder which holds EVERYTHING. No more "I left my Science folder in my locker." These binders go with the kids everywhere. There is a section for each subject, and subsections within each subject - class notes & handouts, graded & returned work, and homework. Everything is filed on top, so in theory, if a kid finished his homework, opens his binder and puts it on the very top of the science/homework section, there should be no problem locating the homework to turn it in the following day. The binder also contains paper, their agenda, a pencil pouch which holds pencils and highlighters, and class and team rules, information, etc. The agenda itself has to be filled out in a specifc way with a line for Classwork (what we did that day), and another one for Homework, which are then highlighted with different colored highlighters. Notes are taken in the Cornell Note format although those of us in the Science Department tend to use our foldable notes instead as it works better for our content (and that's another post and another day).

In short, there's a huge emphasis on organization with this program. And, truth be told, it has a lot of merit but it's been incredibly difficult to work with the kids on their binders when we don't have a dedicated class for it like the high schools do. All of which may be one of the reasons why we go to a dedicated advisory next year, but I digress.

Cleaning out their binders (which, by the way, is something the high school kids apparently never get to do) is something our kids love to do. There's something about throwing away old test and notes and homework that gives them satisfaction. I feel the same way about going through my closet and getting rid of things I never wear. I did, however, have them staple all their foldable notes together and turn them in. I file these away and then hand them back out when we review for Our Very Big Government Mandated Test. They clicked those binder rings open and closed, shuffled their papers, sorted them out, stapled and turned in.

So, I got to wondering...any of you out there use the AVID program? Comments?

I'm just a sheet cake sort of gal

As a science teacher, I'm used to doing labs that don't necessarily work out perfectly. That's part of the game, and actually ends up being a good thing because it leads to good discussions with the kids about why something didn't go as planned. I think they learn more that way.

However, as a cook, I'm not used to failures. Especially big grand failures. But oh, I had a humdinger of a failure for New Year's.

When we go over to the Littlebird's, I often bring dessert. Not that I'm any great baker, I actually like cooking main dishes more, but because it's easier to bring a dessert than, say, a pot roast. And I like to do desserts because there's usually a recipe I'd like to try, and it gives me a good excuse.

Iin the November, 2006 issue of Southern Living magazine, they had this recipe for a banana cake. Mr. Bluebird loves banana pudding and banana bread and this looked like a fun recipe to try. The picture was gorgeous - a triple layered cake with chunks of banana and gooey white frosting between the layers, all topped by more snowy white gooey frosting.

The batter was easy, the baking went fine, I made my three round cake layers, cooled them, whipped up the butter cream frosting, cut the banana slices, tossed them in lemon juice, drained them, got out my grandma's depression glass cake plate, and began to assemble my cake.

And this is where it all went wrong.

I put the first layer on the cake plate, added the 1/2 cup of frosting (just like the recipe said), topped that with a layer of 1/4" banana slices (just like the recipe said), frosted another layer and inverted it (just like the recipe said), and repeated (just like the recipe said). In other words, I did everything exactly like the recipe said to do it.

By the time I'd stacked my three layers and was ready to do the overall frosting I realized that we had a problem.

The banana slices didn't want to stay put in between the layers.

At all.

They were migrating from in between the layers to the edge, then creeping down the sides. I'd push in a banana piece, and another one would squirt out on the opposite side of the cake. The cake itself was starting to lean precariously. I secured it with some bamboo skewers. The motion was too great and the cake simly kept moving, taking the skewers with it. By this time the cake, which should have had lovely, smooth sides, looked like it had warts as the bananas were popping out and sliding down the sides, and creeping across the cake plate.

This was not going to work.

And I didn't have time to run to the market and make something else.

So I improvised.

I took a deep square glass baking dish, picked up the cake and sliding bananas off my lovely cake plate, dumped it in the dish and basically threw the remaining frosting and bananas on top. It looked like a rather odd shaped mountain with boulders sticking out all over the place. If I'd been clever, and not just annoyed, I would have rigged up a ski lift with toothpicks and thread.

I took what I was now calling "Banana Mash Cake" (because it was sort of just mashed there in the dish) to the Littlebird's and told them the entire story. Between the deer and the baking disaster, it wasn't my day, but it turned out okay in the end. The cake tasted great (and was best served with a large spoon) and hopefully the car repairs won't be too expensive.

But I don't think I'm ever going to try a layer cake again.

2006 Out with a Crash!

Mr. Bluebird and I went over to our friends' the Littlebirds for New Years. We spend a lot of holidays with the Littlebrids, probably because none of us have any family locally. (Poppa Bluebird already went home, about three hours away, after spending most of Christmas week with us). In any case, these evenings tend to be a whole lot of fun. We eat, we play board games (Scattegories and Scene It were the two we played last night), and we just have a lot of laughs and a grand time.

Of course Mr. Bluebird and I had to start the evening out by hitting a deer in my precious Saturn.

We were driving along a rather busy road, heading to the Littlebird's, when a deer just appeared out of nowhere. Mr. Bluebird braked, we bumped the deer, and we pulled over and stopped to check the damage. The hood was dented and the bumber, which is fiberglass was cracked. Nothing else appeared to be wrong - lights were fine, the car ran fine, in fact it wasn't as bad as it could be.

Like the time Mr. Bluebird hit a deer and the airbags deployed and the insurance company totalled his van...

The best we can determine that deer had come charging out from between two houses and just ran in front of us. Considering the traffic on that street, it's amazing more cars didn't get involved when we had to hit the brakes.

So, we got to the Littlebird's, I called the police to do a police report (my insurance company likes police reports), and called the insurance company.

What a way to end 2006!

Bread and Milk! We must have Bread and Milk!

While Mr. Bluebird and Poppa Bird and I have had a relatively uneventful holiday, marred only by a bit of rain, our kin in Colorado are having a heck of a time this Christmas season. While they're getting ready for the latest round of blizzards, Mr. Bluebird is out on the back deck grilling steaks. Patently unfair, don't you think?

Anyhow, last week when the first blizzard hit Denver I called my cousin, Penguin. Penguin is a year older than me and is a definite free spirit who marches to her own tune. Nothing phases her. Even a rollicking day of baby-sitting her nephews and niece doesn't send her over the edge. In fact, I'm not sure what would send her over the edge, if anything.

So I reach her on her cell phone as she's just boarded the shuttle bus at the airport that's supposed to take her to her car that's parked at Stapleton, the old airport. (She works for an airline out of Denver International Airport). Apparently, instead of having the employees drive for miles across the prairie to reach the airport, the airlines run a shuttle service. Which usually runs fairly frequently. However, with the blizzard in full battle mode, it ran a bit late.

"Oh, we just got on the shuttle to take us to our cars," she says. "It was kind of cool. We waiting there for two hours, just like penguins huddling together and taking turns being on the inside of the huddle and outside of the huddle because the wind and snow was blowing so bad." Penguin, I might add, is nuts about penguins and has been collecting them since we were knee-high. Hence, her name.

"You were waiting in the snow for two hours?"

"Oh yeah, and they say it make take us two hours to get to our cars." Penguin is not even remotely concerned or upset at this point. In fact, it sounded like the entire shuttle bus was singing Christmas Carols and partying.

I called Penguin a day or so later and she informed me that yes, it did take two hours to get to their cars, but she had parked in covered parking so it was only a matter of getting home along the snow-covered roads. Apparently this took some time as well, but she made it. She then spent the following day walking all over her neighborhood and the local park with her snowshoes and digital camera. She reported that her area received 33" of snow. In Penguin's eyes that simply means more chances to play with her snowshoes and digital camera.

Today, as the weather reports are screeching about Yet Another Blizzard, I call Penguin to see what's really going on. She is nonplussed.

"People are so silly," she says on the phone. "The lines at the gas stations are huge," she reports. "Which is kind of silly because if you have a blizzard, you aren't going driving anywhere, right?"

I agree that people really are rather silly (I do, after all, teach so I am very aware of this fact).

Penguin continues, "I ran by the market on the way home from Mother's, just to get a few things, and they're out of milk. Is that silly or what? I mean, what's with the bread and milk? Every time there's a storm people all stock up on bread and milk. I'd rather stock up on tortilla chips and salsa, if I'm going to stock up on anything."

Mr. Bluebird, Poppa Bird and I all tend to agree with Penguin on this. Why do people stock up on bread and milk? Why not lunchmeat and chips? Why not peanut butter? Why not chocolate? Me, if I'm stuck home during a blizzard, I'd probably want to make sure I had plenty of coffee, shortbread cookies, and Jack Daniels.

And some really good books to read.

So, there are two questions for my dear readers.

1. What's with the bread and milk?

2. What would you stock up on???

Rock Goddess

My nickname isn't The Rock Goddess for nothing!

Rock Star You scored 94%!

You damn rock star. You know all the basics, and if you got any wrong, I bet it was that stupid Traveling Wilburys question. Your friends are probably intimidated by your knowledge of classic rock and envy your impressive collection. When a classic rock song comes on the radio, you can probably identify it before the vocals kick in most of the time. You probably get good scores on the "maiden name of Clapton's mom" tests, too.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on notes

Link: The BASIC classic rock Test written by allmydays on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Merry Christmas!

It's Christmas Eve, hard to believe it's already here, and I'm finally getting caught up on my blog reading, knitting, house cleaning, baking, etc.

I'm enjoying reading about Christmas traditions and plans from all my fellow bloggers, which is one way to vicariously live the holiday through other people's eyes. See, my family doesn't really have any big deal holiday traditions, for a number of reasons.

First, my father, and all my uncles, all worked for the airline industry. That meant that Christmas dinner was usually a buffet style affair where you grabbed a plate and ate whenever you could. Every one of them worked Christmas day. I don't think my Dad actually had Christmas off until he had over 25 years in, and then he always volunteered to work it so the guys with little kids (I was past college by this time) could enjoy it.

I guess the second reason we don't have a lot of traditions is that Mr. Bluebird and I both come from small families. I'm an only child, he has one (estranged, slightly wacko) sister, and a half sister who's quite a bit older. There are, outside of my cousins' kids, no children in the family. Like my family, he moved a bit as a child (including overseas) so having grandmas and grandpas around for thie holidays was a rarity.

That being said, we tend to do our own traditions which might seem strange to some people, but when you have a houseful of two or three people, you can do what you want.

Like make all day spaghetti sauce and invite your Jewish friends over for a spaghetti Christmas dinner.

My mother thought it was horrible that we didn't do a turkey that year. But really, why bother with a big bird when it's only a handful of folks and you really like Italian food?

Last year we invited all my friends and fellow teachers who had spouses deployed and who had no family in the area over. We had a blast! This just proved the point that you can chose your friends but not your relatives. If I had had some of my crazy, dysfunctional relatives over (instead of good friends) I probably would have been found behind the tree getting plowed on Jack Daniels.

Tonight we're going over to Mr. and Mrs. Littlebird's house for our monthly dinner and game night with a little foray out to look at Christmas lights. The Prodigal Daughter (their daughter who we would keep as our own) will be home from college, although Mr. Littlebird is overseas again this holiday. Tomorrow Papa Bird will drive up for Christmas dinner and most likely will stay for a few days. I'll be cooking Christmas dinner.

I'm making lasagne.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Whoo-hoo! Carnival Time!

It's time for another Carnival of Education. Wander on over to The Median Sib for another outstanding read. I highly recommend a good cup of coffee and chocolate to enhance your reading experience. It is the holidays after all.

At last...

I can sleep in.

And take a nap later on if I want to.

I can read a novel.

I can knit, knit, knit.

I can watch all the DVD's I haven't had time to watch.

I might even make some Christmas cookies.

I can hang out with Mr. Bluebird.

I love my kids, but gosh, I like having some time to myself!

Out of the Mouths of Middler Schoolers, or Doughboy Discovers Sex

There are days in the life of a middle school teacher when you wonder how on earth you manage to maintain your compsure and not dissolve into fits of hysterical giggles. Especially when one of your kids says something so off the wall that you're not even sure you heard it correctly. In fact, you're hoping you didn't hear it correctly.

Today was one of those days for Mr. Social Studies.

You have to give him credit. He tries to drag our kids kicking and screaming into discussions of current events, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. In fact, it all depends on the class. Some class periods do well in this area, others don't. It all sort of depends on the make up of the kids.

Today he was having a current event discussion when one of the kids raises his hand and mentions that he thought he heard on the radio news this morning that a cure for AIDS had been discovered. Mr. Social Studies responds that he hadn't heard that, but if it is the case, that would be a very good thing. The class then gets into a discussion about AIDS, which the kids apparently have a lot of questions about. (Which shows that they don't pay any more attention in health class than they do in science.) Mr. Social Studies explains a bit about the origins of the disease, how it's an STD, how it has decimated populations in Africa, and so on.

Doughboy raises his hand. Now there's several schools of thought when Doughboy raises his hand. One is the belief that you're delighted he's apparently paying attention and wants to contribute. The other is that you're scared to death about what might come out of his mouth.

Mr. Social Studies decides to take a gamble and calls on Doughboy.

"What's an STD?" he asks.

Great. Mr. Social Studies does as clinical an explanation of STD's as he can, couching his terms in words that hopefully won't get a parent mad at him. The kid seem to get it. He moves on.

Five minutes late Doughboy's hand is up in the air again, waving frantically.

Mr. Social Studies throws caution to the wind and calls on Doughboy again.

"Does that mean you can get AIDS from jerking off?" he asks, deadly serious.

Mr. Social Studies, who is never at a loss for words, was at a loss for words. So, apparently, was the entire class. Thank goodness. The chaos this could have generated is unfathomable.

Only one half day of school left.

Thank goodness.

The Christmas Store

Our Parent Teacher Organization just rocks.

They are a dedicated group of volunteers who practically live in our building and who do more good than most social services agencies manage to do. Throughout the year they run a "Food For Thought" program where kids receive a backpack with enough food to get them through the weekend. (It's amazing how many of our kids don't eat between school lunch on Friday and school breakfast on Monday.) They also are there to help out with life's emergencies, such as a pair of brand new basketball shoes being stolen from a locker that need to be replaced, a kid who needs a jacket, that sort of thing. They also have chili suppers, dances, festivals, and craft shows to raise money for our Christmas Angel program where they provide Christmas in the form of food and presents to needy families from our building. This year they're taking care of families with over a 100 children. The time and labor that goes into this is mind-boggling.

But the one thing they do that really impacts the kids, that makes the biggest impression on them, is The Christmas Store.

All year long, starting the day after Christmas, these ladies hit the sales. They are zealous at buying things at 75% or more off. The items themselves aren't junk, but actually are pretty nice - jewelry, perfume, stuffed animals, candles, and more. They will stockpile these items and in the week before we leave for the Christmas break they will take our large group instruction room (a room we use for everything from luncheons to multi-class labs) and turn it into The Christmas Store. The items are attractively displayed on tables, there's a cash register, they have holiday music playing, candy canes to snack on, in truth, it looks nicer than most mall stores.

And everything in there is priced from $1 to $5.

Quite simply, they are providing our students with a chance to buy presents for their parents, friends, family, and yes, even teachers, at a price they can afford, and without having to have a parent help them do it. This little bit of independence is something these kids love. It may sound stupid to a grown up (especially if you're like me and you're avoiding malls and shopping centers like the plague) but to be eleven and to be able to take $2 and buy your mom a present all by yourself is a big thing.

The Christmas Store is open all day long and the kids are very good about politely asking if they can leave class to go. I usually let them, as we're winding the semester down this week and there's really nothing that they absolutely can't miss (now that my last test is over). What's fun, for me, is when they return. They usually aren't gone long thanks to Mrs. Math who took them all over for a few minutes on the day the store opened to check it out so they knew what was there. When they return they have these HUGE smiles on their faces and they're carrying brightly colored Christmas gift bags full of goodies nestled in tissue paper (I love the fact that they don't even have to wrap the gifts - they're ready to go!).

The other day I saw the tiniest little sixth grader dragging four huge bags down the hall with a smile that could of lit up the Las Vegas strip.

Interestingly enough, from the conversations I hear, the kids aren't in there buying things for themselves, but are really buying things for others. I hear things like, "Oh man, did you see those candles in there? My mom would love those!" or "My sister is going to love that stuffed bear I got!" It's reassuring to know that most of them have the right idea.

The Christmas Store has been so popular this year that two of the PTO ladies took a road trip and some cash and hit some more sales to restock as they'd nearly sold everything out. They've extended the hours through Monday, our last full day of school.

The kids are ecstatic. And they're discovering something some of us tend to forget. It truly is more fun to give than to receive!

Catching Us At Our Best.

Mrs. Eagle and I have joined a gym. Actually, Mrs. Eagle already belonged to this gym, but found that she wasn't going very often. It's boring when you go by yourself. So, I went down and joined the other day. Our goal is to go 3-4 days a week. We figure this is one way to get out of the building at a halfway decent time, and we need the exercise. Walking was fun, but we weren't as committed to it this year as we were last year, and besides, I wanted to get some weight training in.

So Wednesday we go and hit the gym. We did about 25 minutes on the bikes, then decided to do some weight training (which I really enjoy although by the time we were finished I was wondering if I'd be able to use my arms the following day). Mrs. Eagle, an Army veteran, knows her way around a gym, and it's almost like having a personal trainer.

We were taking turns doing crunches which is probably one of the most unattractive things a 44-year old chubby woman can do. I finished my set, get up to let Mrs. Eagle have her turn and look up across the gym and see Rodeo Girl and her mother standing at the front counter of the gym.

Oh great.

Too late, they've spotted me and are waving frantically. I wave back and smile, trying to forget that I'm sweating, my hair is a mess, and I'm beet red in the face. On the way out I do the polite thing and chit chat a bit with the two of them, wondering all the time how this was going to play out at school.

So this morning I'm standing in my room talking with one of my kids during locker time and I hear Rodeo Girl practically screaming at the top of her lungs, "Guess what? I saw Mrs. Bluebird at the gym last night working out and lifting weights and everything!"

Oh boy.

And just what, exactly, is normal?

We have a number of student teachers in the building this semester and it's not unusual for one of them to ask me if they can come sit in on a class and do an observation. No problem for me as I'm pretty used to having people in my room. One year my classroom was right by the front office and I swore The Principal used my classroom as a tour stop. I tend to get people wanting to observe because I'm one of the few teachers who has my students seated at tables in groups and I use a lot of hand's on activities.

In any case, I had one of the student teachers this week during my Fourth Period Class which is actually one of my better ones. Interestingly enough it's packed with special education kids but for once they really aren't, for the most part, behavior problems. They tend to work hard even if they don't do well academically, they really try and that counts for a lot with me.

I do have one kid in there who's really....well....odd. Doughboy has one of the roundest faces I've ever seen and he's a bit chubby and very pale. He's really different. He talks really fast, and low, so most of the time no one can understand him. I'm always having to slow him down and repeat things until I get the gist of what he's saying. He drives nearly everyone he sits by nuts because he has conversations with himself or with anyone who'll listen. He's not loud, but it does get old after a while.

Anyhow. I get the kids started on the activity for the day and swing back by the student teacher to see if she has any questions. She does.

"Hum, that kid over there," she says nodding her head toward Doughboy. "He has two pairs of glasses on."

I don't even bother to look because for the past two weeks Doughboy has started wearing two pairs of glasses, one placed on top of the other. I asked him about it and he said it helped him to see better. I sugested he asked his mom to take him to get his prescription checked and he said no, he liked wearing the two pair of glasses just fine.

"Oh," I said, "That's just Doughboy."

"Is that normal?" she asks.

I pause for a minute before I answer. "For Doughboy, yes, it's normal. For any other kid, probably not."

When that little voice in your head escapes...

Mrs. Language related this story to me and it's just too good not to share.

I have a kid in my homeroom I call Boston Boy. This kid has never ever lived or traveled North of the Mason Dixon Line but he sounds like he's straight from South Boston. I have a friend, Trish Murphy, from Southy and Boston Boy could be kin to her based on accent alone. We've never met Dad, but Mom is pure Southern so goodness knows where he picked it up.

Anyhow, Boston Boy is pretty bright, a hard rock music lover, and a kid without a lot of patience. Mrs. Language is doing a class discussion the other day (I believe they were working on descriptive writing) where she would show the kids pictures and she'd call on them to describe it as vividly as they could.

As she's doing this, she's standing near Boston Boys desk and he's sort of leaning forward with his elbow on his desk, and his head propped in his hand. She calls on a student in class to give her description of the picture and she realizes that Boston Boy is mumbling something.

"Oh man, just shut the hell up," she hears him mumble.

The student finishes, and another student is called and begins going over his description.

"Jeez, you're just so damn stupid," she hears Boston Boy mumble.

By this point Mrs. Language decides she needs to put a stop to Boston Boy's mumbling even though it appears no one but she can hear it.

"Boston," she hisses at him. "Watch your mouth!"

She relates that at this point Boston Boy spins around to look at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes all but popping out of his head. "You heard me?" he asks.

"Of course I heard you," she says. "You're lucky the other kids didnt."

"But I didn't know I was saying anything out loud!" he whispers back at her. "I thought I was just talking in my head."

And I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached...

Just when we thought that Mrs. Faraway had given up, I find myself the recipient of one of her emails this morning.

Oh yippe.

Not only are her emails ripe with typographical errors (we particularly enjoy her use of "studing" for "studying") but she types in ALL FREAKING CAPS LIKE SHE'S YELLING. Having tried to walk this woman through our school website over the telephone I'm fairly certain she isn't yelling, but happens to be completely clueless about her breach of email etiquette.

Anyhow, I'm giving a benchmark test today, which is boring beyond belief, and I see her email pop up. She wants to know when I'm handing back the study guides for our next unit test because she needs to work with her daughter on memorizing them word for word so she can parrot the answers back and not have a clue what any of it is about. She claims that her daughter turned it in on Friday.

Well, that's pretty interesting because I didn't collect the study guides, and when I went through the homework that was turned into the homework basket, there were no study guides in there. From anyone. I informed Mrs. Faraway of such and told her that I would have an additional study guide ready for her daughter when she came to class, even though my usual practice is if a kid loses a study guide (or anything else for that matter), they better find a friend and change for the copier. However, since her daughter is on an IEP, I do make exceptions (and how) for her.

Mrs. Faraway responds that she appreciated that I would give her daughter a new study guide, but she would really like the old one (which was completed) and that she has no reason not to believe her daughter so apparently, I've lost her study guide. After all, her daughter insisted that she turned it in. What other possibility could it be? I had to have lost it.

At this point I'm shaking my head over the fact that I have yet another parent who believes everything that comes out of the mouth of a seventh grader. If there's one thing that a seventh grader is good at, it is obfuscating the truth. Or, if you prefer, lying.

When Faraway Girl comes in to class, I call her over and hand her another study guide.

"You need to take this home and make sure your mother sees this," I tell her.

She gives me one of her patented blank looks. There are times that I swear I can hear the wind whistling between her ears. Loudly.

"But I have one already," she says.

"Really. Well, your mother says you don't."

"But I do," she insists again. "And it's filled out." At this point she goes to her binder, opens it up, and lo and behold, there's her perfectly completed study guide!

"Well an extra one wouldn't kill either one of you," I say. "Just in case it gets misplaced." She gives me a look like she's completely baffled (which she probably was) and puts the new one in her binder.

I email her mother and let her know I gave her daughter a new study guide. However, interestingly enough, her daughter insisted that she didn't need a study guide because she still had one in her binder, which she did, in fact, produce. I suggested that perhaps her mother might, just maybe, have my class confused with another one?

At least she said thank you. But I'm still annoyed that she was convinced I'd lost the stupid thing in the first place.

And what do you do for fun??!

We were having a discussion in my Fifth Period class the other day about cell processes, including endocytosis. Knowing that my kids are pretty much obsessed with video games I told them that endocytosis, where a cell engulfs a large particle and brings it into the cell, is a lot like Pacman.

This leads to a conversation about how exocytosis (where the cell expells a large particle) is a lot like another character from another video game, one which I wasn't familiar with. I start asking them about this when one of my kids asks, "Don't you know anything about video games?"

"Well, no, I don't really. We don't have any at home." My only familiarity with video games is from the games we used to play in the student union way back when I was in college the first time. That's how I knew about Pacman. And Tetris. But I've never owned a gaming system.

There are gasps of disbelief.

"You don't have any video games? No PS2, nothing like that?" a few of them cry. They are stunned. How on earth can someone function without video games?

"Nope. Not one." I'm kind of enjoying the astonished looks on their faces.

"But what do you do for fun?" one of them finally asks.

"Oh, I read a lot. Mr. Bluebird and I have lots and lots of books and we read a lot. We also watch a lot of DVD's. And we play games, you know, like chess and Risk."

They find this incredibly odd.

One of my kids, Pig Pen, who is very messy but very, very bright, says, "You know, it's a good thing you and Mr. Bluebird don't have any kids, because it would be really mean to have them grow up without a video game system."

Amazing what these kids consider to be necessary for happiness, isn't it?