Blogs are Good for Therapy!

On a different note, I need to take time to reflect on my work.  Self therapy.  Lately things have been kind of tough to deal with.  There are a lot of issues at work, most of them personal, but people have a hard time keeping personal stuff personal.  Does that make sense?  I suppose I am a little guilty myself.  I have a tendency to really internalize things, take things personally.  In the last ten years I have really improved my character.  I have gained confidence.  I have learned to let things go and choose my battles.  I have learned more effective ways of talking to difficult people.  I am still not used to getting that slap in the face that comes out of nowhere.  I am sure everyone has had that happen a time or two.  Have you even taken the extra steps to go above and beyond?  Stepped outside of your comfort zone for the sake of diplomacy?  Had the boss praise you for your leadership qualities, but when the opportunity arises for a new challenge, it is given away to some random person who doesn't really have much of anything to do with your job?  It has left me discouraged and confused.

Yes, I am there for the kids, but it is also nice to grow professionally.  So many things are broken, and I'm just trying to fix them when no one else will.

Vicious Bottom Feeders and the Pigeon Police

Rain.

Everyone who knows children well, knows that rain brings out the most bizarre behavior in even the most reserved children. This morning it rained. It rained a lot. My class was...active, to say the least. But there were other factors working against me, besides the weather. We have been building "ecocolumns", which are cylindrical tubes containing a self-sustained ecosystem. Aquarium habitat in the bottom and terrarium in the top. It's actually quite impressive. Anyway, yesterday we added some critters. Some snails and guppies went into the aquarium, and crickets and roly-polies went in the terrarium. How did this add to the mayhem, you might ask? Well, we were attempting to sex the fish (that is, determine the gender of the guppies--don't be freaking out on me), when one of my groups noticed that their fish was dead. Of course, no one has EVER seen a dead fish before (and no one believed me when I jokingly told them that their fish was sleeping upside down...without breathing), so the entire class had to rush over to inspect the fish. Then they couldn't believe their ears when I told them that they couldn't remove the dead fish. I was going to make them leave it in there for day, so they can observe the effects of decay in an ecosystem. Hello!!! It's science at work! The circle of life! Even better, I got to witness a classroom full of children freaking out when their snails decided to chow down on the dead fish.

"No, you can't take the fish out. No one digs all the dead fish out of a lake. This is a life cycle, people!" A learning experience. For everyone. Except I don't think I was learning the same thing they were.

All the while, it was raining.

And then the pigeon landed. Right outside my classroom. Right next to the sidewalk. There was no avoiding it.

"There's a huge bird outside!!" All the children rush from the dead fish to the windows and door. We are in a pre-fab, so our class is located outside the main building.

"It's a pigeon," I tell them.

"But it's HUGE! And it has a red tag on its leg," one boy tells me.

Then I took what we educators call a "teachable moment" to teach them about homing pigeons. The bird really was huge. Like a chicken. And so very tame. Way too tame. And of course my classroom is in a central location where all the other kids have to walk past my room to get to their classes. Therefore I became the pigeon police. And suddenly everyone had a reason to leave the room.

"I have to pee! REALLY BAD!!!"

"I need to go to the office."

"I have to go to the library."

"Can I get a drink?"

"Can I catch the pigeon?"

My class was overly aware of everyone else who passed by.

"It's a homing pigeon," they'd call out the window or door to a curious on-looker. "Don't touch it. Just keep walking."

At last, I was able to get everyone sort of quietly back in their seats, only to have the peace disturbed just a few minutes later.

"There's a kid trying to touch the pigeon!"

*Sigh* "It's a bird. It will fly away if it feels threatened."

"It's on the roof now!!!!" And of course, all the kids flocked to the windows and door, because they have obviously never seen a bird on the roof before.

Giant facepalm. Today was completely shot. But hey, they all learned something. Either what a homing pigeon was, or that snails are vicious, vicious scavengers who feast on dead fish carcasses.

The Telephone and the Dark Powers it Possesses

Growing up, young girls everywhere are seduced by the glories of telephone communication. When I was a kid, the privileged ones had their very own telephone lines so that they were always able to have private conversations at any time, and talk as long as they so pleased without having parents or other siblings yelling at them to get off the phone. These days children as young as five are toting cell phones to school in their Hello Kitty backpacks. There is one thing that none of us were ever prepared for: that one day we would hate the phone. I'm not sure what it is, but once a child is born, they have an almost instinctive drive to make sure that the phone and their mother's ear do not stay in contact. When the phone touches mommy's ear, even the quietest child will muster a good cry, scream, or wild laughter.

But it's not only children! I have recently discovered that pet owners have this problem, too. My two pups, Sasha and Aoife, will suddenly burst forth from a deep sleep into a wild, barking, growling frenzy. Suddenly the house becomes a wrestling ring, and the fur is flying. I'll leave the room, and they will follow. Just like children. I find a quiet room to make my phone calls, especially the important ones, just like I know all you parents do...but they follow. The children. The animals. They KNOW. I'm telling you, there is no escape. You can lock yourself in the bathroom, but the acoustics are overpowering for both parties on the phone. You can lock yourself in your bedroom, but there is pounding on the door. You become even more distracted than before. Alas, you submit to failure. You sit on the bed as the children jump next to you, and the puppies snarl. The customer service rep on the other end of the line praises Jesus when you finally hang up the phone. And what do you know? As soon as the phone call is over, suddenly everyone is calm again.

Picture Books Unsuitable for Children, and Homosexual Cats

The picture you see here is the cover of a bedtime story for adults. Adults like me who have fought the never ending battle of putting children to bed. I know I have it pretty easy. I spent a night with some good friends who also have two small children, and it was then that I realized just how good I have it. Their daughter, who is 18 months old, still wakes up every two hours. Sheesh. I think I would have lost my mind from a lack of sleep. For those of you who know me well, I need my sleep. At least 7 hours. No lie. Anyway, last night Wyatt decided to keep coming to my bed repeatedly. He's five years old. What the heck? No sleep for me. Made me think of this book. You can download an audio book of Samuel L. Jackson reading this. Pure awesomeness. I must warn you that it is full of the language that makes old Sam famous. Just so you know.

So what does this all have to do with homosexual cats? Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. I stopped by the indoor skatepark my family owns and visited my old cat. Crazy Buster. There is another cat who lives there now, whom my brother has named Captain Steve. My mom said that Steve does things to Buster that...well, he shouldn't. And then Jeff told me that Buster doesn't really object. Hey, I don't judge. Maybe he's still mad about being neutered. At least he has found love.