Joshing Around

One of Josh's best friends back home is also named Josh. We got to spend some time with both guys this weekend, and it was very entertaining. Take for example this exchange, as we were driving off for our hike this afternoon, leaving Josh's hand-painted bean bag toss in the front yard.

Josh 1: I hope nobody steals the game while we're gone!

Josh 2: Pretty sure no one wants your corn hole, Buddy.

Bob the Dog

At the end of a fun family picnic with a chaos of kids running in and out of the house, we looked up as Michelle came up the walk with a tiny black dog in her arms. Her new place is located just off a busy road, and noticing a bit of a commotion, she went over to see what was happening. A woman from New Jersey had stopped to avoid hitting the little guy. "I can't take him!" She told Michelle. "I'm on my way back home."

The entire group of 6 children and 12 adults turned our collective attention to this current canine crisis. Is there a collar? He looks well-groomed. Take a picture and post it on Facebook! Let's call him Bob. Go door to door with the picture. Where's the closest shelter? He's shivering-- we need a blanket. I read on the internet you can use a stud-finder to see if there's a microchip. Beep beep beep beep bleep. How does this thing work? Nobody's answering the doors across the street. The vet is closed. Bob is soooo cute. Clearly not a stray. Where would we even put flyers?

In the midst of all this hubbub, a couple of guests with a long drive ahead of them bid us all farewell and good luck. Imagine our surprise, then, when their red Crowne Vic rolled back into the driveway a little while later. Out jumped a very worried looking woman they had spotted as she scoured the road calling for her dog. A heart-warming reunion between Pat and Yogi was only a moment away.

It happened that Yogi had indeed been bathed earlier today and so was collarless when Pat's husband started using a hydraulic nail gun. Since it was such a beautiful day, the front door was open. Spooked by the loud noise, Yogi pushed open the loose screen, and hit the road.

Pat's husband and grandson pulled in just as she ended her tale, and the four of them happily headed home.

School Daze Chapter 7: Sunny with a Chance of Opposition

We have a student this year who embodies a conundrum I've never tackled before. He is definitely oppositional: ask him to do any simple task, and he just can't help himself from doing the opposite. You have to say his name three times before he'll even turn his head, and yet? He misbehaves with the sunniest of smiles.

In all my years of teaching, I have never met such a contradictory soul. I redirect him, ready to be confronted with anger and resentment, and he simply laughs with a twinkle in his eye. When frustrated by a task, he shuts down, but when I give him guidance and suggestions, he digs in and does a great job.

He has lost his water bottle at least 10 out of the 14 days we've been in school so far, but he is always appreciative when I, his homeroom teacher, spot it and return it to him. Maybe that's why he always stops by at the end of the day for a few minutes with his friend from another team, even when they could both be heading home.

Today I met them at the door on my way back from a meeting. "Hey!" I said, "I think you're rubbing off on me. I just left my water bottle downstairs."

"Do you know where it is?" he asked.

"Yep," I answered.

"Well then," he told me, "I haven't rubbed off on you enough!"

School Daze Chapter 6: Dynamic Duo

I teach one class each year that has a mix of both special and general education students. As an inclusion class, it also has an instructional assistant assigned to work with me to meet the needs of all of the kids in there. This year, I am lucky to be working with a guy who is also a former teacher.

As such, he has a lot of experience and a sharp eye for student needs, and so far, we form a pretty good team. In fact one of the students in our class today asked me if we were married.

I laughed and told him no.

"Oh," he said, "I just thought so, 'cause you're like our school Mom and Dad."

"Really?" I answered. "Well, I think we're more like you're school Batman and Robin!"

School Daze Chapter 5

Once a week our team of teachers meets with the counselors to talk about "student concerns". We share anecdotes and observations of the sixth graders in our class, comparing notes to see if there is some sort of support we might add. To be honest, since kids are, well, kids, some of the stories can be rather hilarious, some are heart-breaking, and some leave us kind of scratching our heads.

Today, for example, the counselor reported that she received a note from a student who was alarmed because another boy had threatened to "kick him in the shins" if he didn't stop singing some annoying song.

That story me with so many questions! Who was the threatener? What song was soooo annoying? And what sixth grader even knows what a shin is?

"Shin" seems a little old-fashioned to me. Most of the kids I know just go with the generic term, "leg" when referring to any part of that lower extremity. My dad used to say "shin," when I was a kid, and I think I even have a vague recollection of him talking about kicks in the shin. And wasn't there an old joke, a parody of a cheer, really, that went something like,

Ra ra ree! 
Kick 'em in the knee! 
Ra ra rin! 
Kick 'em in the shin! 
Ra ra rass... 
Kick 'em in the other shin!

Maybe he was singing that!

School Daze Chapter 4: The 3rd Shift

Oy vey! What a day! After completing my regular job, you know the one where I try to bend a hundred strong-minded young adolescents to my will, and make them think it is all their idea, I had a meeting where I tried to bend one strong-minded colleague to my will, but she was having none of it. Later, I conducted an overview session of the online course about young adolescents that I teach for 20 tired teachers, most of whom, like I, had Back-to-school Night tonight. At 5:30 I dashed home and actually cooked dinner, ate it, and cleaned up the kitchen before changing my clothes and heading back to school. Of course there was no parking, so I pulled in by the tennis courts and hoofed it two blocks to the building where I just barely beat the first of the families arriving for the evening's festivities. Two hours and six twelve-minute presentations later, I slipped off the loafers that were pinching my feet and walked barefoot back to my car, only stubbing my toe that once.

Indelible

"I want a tattoo of Isabel!" Heidi told me a few weeks ago.

"Hmmm," I said, "maybe you should wait a little to make sure that's what you really, really want."

She shrugged sadly. "I just want something I can look at it any time to remember her."

I understood what she meant, even though I am not a big fan of tattoos. (Okay. I kind of hate them.)

Early the next morning I got to work. We had gotten temporary dragonfly tats at a taco place in Atlanta, and it occurred to me that such things must be for sale somewhere. I easily found a website, and then an image, and in a matter of minutes a dozen little temporary tattoos were on their way.

They arrived today and boy! Are they super cute and really seem to capture Isabel's spirit. Maybe such a permanent reminder wouldn't be so bad.