-written by Nathan
The Sand Creek Christmas party, postponed in December when the originally booked restaurant went out of business, finally happened. It was held at Brunswick Zone at the north end of town. There was pizza, soda, and appetizers, and everybody got a $5 card for the arcade. We bowled with Sabrina & Kirk and Karla & Frank. Frank played the skill crane and got one of the minions from Despicable Me. He sent it home with us for the kids.
The second birthday celebration was for little Aurora. Aurora's mom, Sharla, is a good friend of mine from work. We celebrated her 2nd birthday at Bonnie Park and had a terrific time!
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| Aurora and her daddy |
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| The birthday girl! |
Our first grade team of teachers put their heads together and scrounged up donations and was able to send every single first grader home with this adorable poem, a picture of their child eating a muffin, AND.... (drum roll please) a pound of coffee from Starbucks! I thought it was such a cute idea and whipped up a few (littler) treats for some of my favorite local mothers. Check it out....
A kindergartner, Simone, approaches me on the playground. "Why are you always sitting down now when we're outside?" she asks.
"Because I'm having a baby, and it can be hard to stand on the playground for a long time," I tell her.
"You're having a baby?!" Simone is surprised.
"You didn't know that?" I ask her. "Well, that's why my belly is so big right now."
"I didn't know you had a husband and were having a baby! What's your husband's name?" Simone asks.
"Nathan," I reply.
"Is he black or white?"
"He's white." I chuckled.
"Is your baby going to be black or white?"
"White," I say, laughing a little harder.
So, is your baby a boy or a girl?" Simone is full of questions.
"I'm having a girl," I tell her.
"What are you going to name her?"
"Well, we're not sure yet. We haven't decided on a name for her."
Simone runs off to play. Two minutes later, she returns with more questions. At this time I am standing near the other playground monitor.
"Mrs. Gillis," Simone asks, "how do babies get into your tummy?"
"That's a question for your mom," I tell her.
Simone, frustrated, exclaims, "My mom doesn't know either!"
Unwilling to give up, she steps over to the other teacher on playground duty standing near me. "Mrs. Jessica, how do babies get in your tummy?"
Mrs. Jessica, a mother of five, responds, "Weeellll, at my house we pray really hard and then God sends an angel that is a baby to our family."
Simone is intrigued. "Wow, so babies are angels?!" She asks, fascinated.
Before Jessica can answer, the bell rings and Simone runs to line up with her classmates.
As I left the lunch room with my tray of food, a little 1st grader called out to me, "Have a nice baby!"
A kindergartner ran up to me on the playground.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" she asked. Without waiting for a response she added, "When I run, I keep hitting my legs on my appetite (she points to her stomach) and that makes me have to go to the bathroom."
Devan, a kindergartner, was standing in the breakfast line sporting a freshly cut head of hair.
"Devan, did you get a hair cut?" I asked.
"Yes!" he replied excitedly. "My dad is a hair cutter!"
Miley, the student standing next to Devan, pipes up. "My dad is a firefighter!" she said.
"Wow! That's really neat!" I told Miley.
Devan glanced at Miley and then turned back to me.
"Well, my dad is a firefighter and a hair cutter."
Later...
Kindergartner Kate ran up to me on the playground, sobbing.
"Reina is being mean to me!" she cried.
"Oh, no. What is Reina doing to be mean to you?"
"She's saying mean things to me!" Tears poured out of her eyes.
"What mean things did she say to you, Kate?" I asked, concerned.
Kate's response was passionate. "She told me that pencils are used for making holes and I said they are made for writing!"
http://www.salon.com/news/david_sirota/2011/07/08/primary_school_testing/index.html
...because testing really isn't the answer.
A very sad kindergartner was crying at school today.
"I miss my mom," she cried.
"Honey, why?" asked a concerned teacher, thinking perhaps she'd had trouble on the playground or another student had been unkind.
"Because I like her!" she sobbed.
There is an adorable little first grader at our school who just looovvvees high heels.
Is obsessed with them, really.
Around Christmastime this student asked one of the paraprofessionals why she never wore high heels. She didn't own any, was her response. The paraprofessional was told that she needed to ask her husband for high heels for Christmas. Red ones.
At duty on Monday morning, this same student approached me on the playground and looked me up and down.
"You look cuuuute!" I was told. Then added, "I love your high heels."
He pulled up his pant leg and proudly showed me his cowboy boots before running off to start a game of hide-and-seek with his boy friends.
A 2nd grader raises his hand in the cafeteria. I approach him to see what he needs. He waves his hand over the fish sandwich, tater tots, and canned pears on his lunch tray and says...
"I'm just here for the free grub!"
Our administrators at my work had us participate in a rather cheesy thanksgiving unity activity on Monday.
As a team, we were instructed to make team "unity" bottles. We each chose a color of sand to pour into tiny glass bottles. While pouring the sand, we shared with one another something we were thankful for about the team we work with at school. The result was one bottle filled with colorful layers representing our unique differences and our thankfulness for one another.
Some may have rolled their eyes. Others may have laughed in mild amusement (& slight irritation) at the sentimentality of the task.
I, however, loved it.
So much so, that I forced my own small family to participate in a similar activity at home today. Each of us chose a color of sand and took turns pouring the sand into our own small glass container while sharing with one another our "gratefuls".
Yes, even Jack chose a color. (He had a difficult time choosing between orange, purple, and light blue, touching each in turn. He finally picked up the light blue bag with one hand, securing it's place as his color of choice. This was after I reminded him that it is one of his favorite colors.)
When it came his time to share, Jack may have chosen that moment to express his profound thankfulness for his bodily functions. But I know, in his heart, he's most thankful for his loving father, and for a mother who enjoys kissing his round cheeks, tickling his cute toes, and forcing him to participate in art projects at such a young, impressionable age.
What is his mother most thankful for this Thanksgiving?
Jack's loving father, and a healthy 7-month-old, with a body that functions perfectly!
I went back to work last August. Each day that I have spent at work since then has been at least 9 hours away from baby Jack.
Which is forty-five hours a week.
One hundred eighty hours a month.
At least.
If I think too often about how much of the time I don't get to see my baby, I can get pretty sad. But, luckily, I have a sweet and thoughtful husband who does what he can to help me feel connected during the days I spend away. Nathan tolerates my 2 to 3 quick phone calls a day to "check up" on Jack. He patiently gives me a detailed account of Jack's day when I arrive home. And, best of all, he often sends text photos of the everyday activities he and Jack are doing while I am at work.
Thanks to Nathan, I have a collection of some of the most adorable Jack pictures on my phone. They are definitely some of my favorites! Here are just a few...
8-13-10
8-27-10
9-03-10
9-08-10
9-23-10
9-29-10
10-06-10
10-13-10
10-19-10
10-25-10
10-25-10
11-04-10
11-09-10
11-12-10I am now officially a working mother, and with that status comes some working mother trials (as I've mentioned before) and, as I found out firsthand today, embarrassments. To any readers that may not be interested in reading about a mother pumping at work, that's what this post is about. And it's an embarrassing one (at least for me), so you've been warned.
As a nursing mother who is gone for much of the day, I have to pump at school. My school is very large and very full, so there really aren't many rooms to spare. This means that I have two options for where I can pump- a small office on the other side of the building from my room, or the bathroom a few feet from my desk. I was not crazy about the idea of pumping in a bathroom and since there are no electrical outlets to plug in the pump in the bathroom, I have been pumping in the office across the building. It's slightly removed from most of the other activity in the building, and the door locks, so I thought this room was a good enough choice.
After a few days of pumping safely in there, I was surprised this afternoon to enter the room and find that the chair had been removed and boxes of supplies covered the table and floor. So, instead of setting up my pump as usual, I left to find my assistant principal and asked her if I should find another room to use. She assured me that the PTCO just needed to drop a few things in the room, but they had left the building so the room was all mine.
I felt a little nervous that there was any other activity at all in that room, but I headed back. I pulled a chair over, then carefully closed the door and locked it, shut the blinds in the small window overlooking the hallway, and deliberately positioned the chair away from the door (you know, just in case the lock on the door didn't work and somebody was able to barge in). I set up my machine and began to take care of business.
Imagine my mortification to notice out of the corner of my eye a shadow cross the wall, then to look up and find that the blinds in the window on the other side of the room were wide open and the custodian, Bob, was walking past!
I about died of embarrassment. And, in my rush to cover myself, made a loud racket and quite a mess. Ugh. My face feels hot thinking about it even now.
I won't go on and bore you with the details of how the PTCO president then tried to enter the room where I had continued to pump, or how her face flushed with embarrassment when I told her what I was doing in there with the door locked but, needless to say, it was a humiliating day all around. So much so, that I'm sad to say I considered for the first time how it might work to discontinue nursing my son.
Instead, I went straight to the store after work and bought batteries for the pump so I can begin pumping in the bathroom in my office.
And I'll probably never again be able to look at Bob without blushing.
I have always considered my years by that of the school calendar so, for me, a new year is beginning tomorrow. As much as I enjoy being a teacher and feel proud of the work I do with kids, I never look forward to returning to work. The end of summer is always tough for me. I admit it, I am not somebody who feels like she has to work outside the home. I could be very happy staying at home full time! I love being at home (which is why not having a home for the past year has been difficult).
I have been especially weepy about the end of this summer as I think about spending 8+ hours a day away from Jack. I am tearing up at random times and my stomach clenches when I think too much about it. I also have irrational thoughts like, "What if he thinks I don't love him anymore because I am gone so much?" or "What if he forgets that I am his mom?" and, I'm embarrassed to admit it, I am even concerned that he will love/respect/look up to Nathan more than me because Nathan will be with him more often.
What I will miss most about Jack is that hour or so in the morning when he is in the best mood. No matter how much sleep he got the night before, he wakes up so cheerful and happy (unlike his parents!). His smile stretches wide across his face and he giggles and laughs so much. That is my favorite time of the day with Jack. And for the next 10 months I will be spending that time of the day with other people's children. It's hard to think about.
When I let myself, I can get pretty choked up about going back to work, so I have been trying to steer my mind toward the positives about our current situation. Considering the rising cost of child care (as much as $19,000 a year per child according to Good Morning America yesterday morning), Nathan and I are extremely lucky to have a schedule worked out where a parent is able to be with Jack all the time, and we don't have to pay to have somebody else watch him while we work.
Also, in this economy I recognize that it is no small thing to have a job right now. And I am very fortunate to have one that I enjoy (most of the time!) and I get to work for a principal who respects me and feels that what I do is important enough to keep me around (many literacy coach positions are considered non-essential and have been cut in our area). And (although teachers work FAR too hard for FAR too little pay) we do have good vacation time. I will cherish those days off to be with my family more than ever before.
Finally, I take comfort in knowing that I am in good company. Many of my closest friends and family members are in the same position I am. As a working mom, I will have people close to me who I can relate to and rely on when I am feeling especially down. And I will learn that if they can do it, so can I.
So, ready or not, here goes....
Just before beginning a test a cute lil' kindergartner poses this question: "How do people learn how to cheat?"
"How do people learn how to cheat?" I asked, surprised. Maybe she wasn't feeling too confident in her abilities when presented with one of her first in a lifetime of assessments.
"Yeah, how do they learn to be a cheater like you?"
My jaw dropped. "Huh?" I racked my brain for some reason she would think I was cheating. Then it hit me.
"You mean, how do people learn how to be a teacher?"
She nodded.
"Well, they go to school to learn to be teachers."
She didn't buy that.
"But, what makes them a teacher?" she asked, frustrated. "Does God make them a teacher?"
I pictured the years of schoolwork and classes and papers and tests that awaited this sweet girl.
"Yep, God makes teachers," I told her.
With a little help from other teachers, I thought to myself.
I really didn't intend to go so long without posting.
Honest.
After New Years I became bear-like. Just as bears gorge on berries and then curl up in their cozy caves to sleep away the winter, I gorged on family, food, drink, and celebration and then curled up on the cozy couch to read away the break. I woke up late. I showered after lunch. I padded around in my slipper socks (thanks, Mom!). I ate (and peed) whenever I needed to (I know the rest of you teachers out there understand). For a change of pace, I moved from the couch to the recliner and played a game of Spider Solitaire in between chapters. I rarely left the house. So, you see, I've been hibernating in my own way. Soaking up the last lovely days of break before trudging back to work.
Which I did this morning.
No more staying up late and sleeping in.
Gone are the afternoon showers and the pajama ensemble (thanks, Sue!).
These are the days of make-up and trousers, red pens and cap erasers, ABC's and 123's.
They came back with a bang.
For me, one of the most difficult things about this time of year is deciding what to do for those certain special co-workers in my life. It can be difficult to decide what small token I should buy/create that is within our means, financially (and since I don't bake well, that is never a good option for me). It seems like I'm always waiting for the perfect idea to hit me until I run out of time, and this year was no different. Well, tomorrow is it- our last day of school before winter vacation- and last night I finally shuffled through the half-hearted ideas bouncing around in my brain and put together these...
The entrance to my school is located right next to the office. I am walking into the office as a person (who I have never seen before but can only assume must be the father of a student) walked in the front door.
"Good afternoon," I greeted him.
He smiled back as I continued toward the office.
"Are you a teacher?" he asked.
I stopped.
"Yes. Well, I'm the literacy coach," I responded, ready to direct him to the classroom he was trying to find.
"That's cool," he raised his chin up in acknowledgment.
And he continued on his way.
