Just Dancin', that's all.

i could have watched them do this all morning.
but it was only a five minute brain break

absolutely. ..Precious. 

they've got my heart, indeed.

nope - not you, One Direction.

Nico and Randolph

i'm in love with this man

 

.all of his words

never enough pocky

For the last few weeks, I have been receiving gifts of Pocky from two students in my class. 

They know I beyond love it. .. 

they know it makes me beyond happy.  

and who wouldn't want to make their teacher happy at the end of the school year? 

I am hoping to get another special delivery this week.

i won't lie. 

if you've never had ... you can get it @ amazon. 

I will be ordering a large shipment come June 22: the end of the school year. 

i can't wait until september.

when i get older

All i have to say is Repeat, Repeat, Repeat. 

I can think of so many awesome things to do with this song and my students. 

it's .inspirational. 

i will be STRONGER.

in the round.tower of my heart

My class has just begun our Poetry unit. .. while also preparing for state testing.
It just so happens that one of the writing prompts was this beautiful poem by Longfellow.
: each line.
: takes my breath away.







While I read it to the class in preparation for them to respond, I noticed one boy smiling and chuckling sincerely at certain lines. 


It was one of the most precious things I have seen all year long.
here is the poem in its entirety to read at your own pace. 
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR 

everyone Must play a role

tomorrow .night at 8pm

i'll eat. you up!

one of my absolute favorite things is for someone to read to me
preferably picture books
preferably in bed.. .

but i think if Christopher Walken, ever in any crazy chance, did read to me in bed
. .. [ummMm, weirdness]
I may end up laughing so hard, he would never get through the story.



[this may not really be Mr. Walken but it surely does do him justice.. . let's just pretend]

and then there's a picure of max... .
he chases a dog with a fork
i don't think he's really gonna eat him
but kids are jerks.

i heart teaching: reason #8 : versions of reality

In my mind, Ireland always looks like this scene from P.S. I Love You.

{source}

the backdrop, all green rolling hills, bright purple flowers

{source}

Today one of my students told me 

[during a lesson on writing definitions]

that Ireland was a country where people wore a lot of hats. 

yup.. . 

not a joke. 

.straight face and all. 

i don't know if this is what he was picturing

or this

{source}

 i've got to be honest. 

i did giggle a little. too loudly. when i was standing there in front of him. 

[i think because i imagined the first picture]

luckily, he's the type of kid who can realize i wasn't laughing at him.

.more at the situation. 

he laughed with me. and we then revised his definition: deleting the hat part. 

i later suggested, kindly, that during library he check out a book on Ireland. 

_when he returned he couldn't seem to put it down.

i guess his images of ireland are no sillier than mine. 

a country full of gerard butlers - gentle, mild mannered romantics.

.i guess it's all about our own versions of reality.

i heart teaching: reason #7

they were all lined up
by the door.
backpacks on, stuffed to the brim.
one of them turned around and asked, "Can we give you a hug?" 

of course??! 
and with that
one piled on,
arms reached around as big as can be, 
stretching
then another.
and another.. 
forming a giant unbreakable ring around me.
i couldn't get out if i wanted to,
nearly toppling over with affection. 
moments into that enormous hug one of my boys,
called out..  .
"I love you."
and then just smiled at me. 

no one responded with a laugh, or even the slightest comment.
it was as if, it was the most normal thing he could have said to his teacher. .. . 

today was, for so many reasons, an extremely hard day.
i opened my eyes,
and dreaded lifting my legs to stand up out of bed.
cried on my way to work.. .
sweat like a beast throughout the day
and, i think, unfortunately, for those around me,
it was not the best day to wear my natural deodorant.

that "I love you " though, was my normal day's special.

i heart teaching: reason #6

i was standing out in the hallway this morning greeting the kids as they came in.. .
one of my boys appeared, said "Good Morning!", walked into the classroom,
unpacked, opened the windows for me [he's my guy]
.... came back out and proceeded to tell me this. .


" I realized something 'psychological' last night.. . "
[yes, these are the words he used]
a.dorable.


" You know how dogs love you even if you are mean to them? 
Or you do something wrong? 
Well it's just like God.. .
Isn’t it funny how their names are just spelled backwards? "


i'm a lucky lady to have these kids in my life. every day.
very lucky.

Writing Workshop Theology

I found myself today during Writing Workshop asking questions that seemed more theological than anything else.

Some of my students were struggling with expanding their characters, after an in.depth lesson on internal and external character traits.

: even with use of a photo [and some funny stories] of this little guy
_ my nephew Aidan, whom they quickly fell in love with.
[also the little love nugget in the Lilies header]

Some questions followed after the lesson.."I don't know what else to write about my character. I don't know what he would do in this situation?  and my response...

"Isn't it the Creator of the character, who knows him/her the best one to figure it out?"

I, then had to step it down a notch, [teaching in a public school] before I spoke any further.
Aren't your parents .. .the ones who made you - the people who know your in.s and out.s best?
The way you act? Your TRUE motivations behind your behavior? whether it be sneaky or for the good of others? 


The lesson ended. And as a whole, the group had a concrete understanding of today's objective. Job done. But it is in moments like that when I feel as if a hand is reaching down from heaven or whispering in my ear. Messages just for me.



I found as I asked that first question a bold peace came over me _ Isn't it the Creator of all _ the Creator of little ole me who knows me the best. BEsT of anyone. the best of my family. the best of my very small group of friends. He knows my heart. He can see right into my core. my dirty, dusty corners and love me just the same.

It's funny how a simple writing task can bring me right back to where my mind should always be. thinking about my Maker.
How he knows all there is to know about me.
AND my story_
and where it's taking me next.

slow your breath down

Every year when my students return, I ask them to create a goal for the year.


Last September, I decided to join in the journey with them and created
a list of things 
I hoped to accomplish for
the 2009-2010 year.


When school started back up a week ago, I had a phrase rolling around my mind. 
I've been in the same mindset I was at the end of the year... . 
and beginning school in  September was not the easiest.


I kept thinking .. . in all areas.. 

i need to BE PRESENT.

_when i am with my students. my friends. my parents.
my mind needs to be there.
instead of thinking about the past, or the FUTURE, focusing on the NOW.


forgetting my worries for the next five years. 
not being careless  .. but. . 
enjoying the PRESENT.
LOVING the PRESENT.
or at least.. being THANKFUL for the PRESENT. 


I spent the last few weeks void of facebook, twitter, Blogger. 
These are PRESENT zappers. wasters. Killers.. . 
and to honest _ it was quite refreshing.
I may not have been entirely PRESENT every moment though...  . 
This is a 2010- 2011 goal. and it takes A LOT of practice. 




FUTURE OF FORESTRY LYRICS _ CLICK HERE

I'll give you more than years

Your burdens couldn't win or lose a thing

If you leave

I'll still be close to you. 

I'll take you back a thousand times again

I'll take you as my own.

I would sing you songs of innocence.

Til the rays of gold and honey

cover you.

we can

perfect back to school message 

.inspirational.

dear students,

   are you reading this summer?

sunday 100.6

the first ten _ of last half.. .

49.  the sound of a running bath.tub.
part of the reason is from my own childhood.
the other part  =  bathtime for my nieces and nephews.
nothin' like this little baby belly and bottom in the tub.
aDorable.

48. the feeling of putting chapstick on. .. or maybe it's just this one specific chapstick i've had for a bit now. the reasoning could be two.fold.

47. the center of Westfield, New Jersey. go.. you'll love it. make sure to visit The Town Book Store.


46. window waves 

45. the smell of summer rain.. those quick rainshowers when.. moments later everything has evaporated. there's a certain scent.

44. when people i love and .... who are part of my heart. . are happy

43. a good fountain Coca.Cola_ i don't do diet soda. never have. never will.

42. cans.
I've become slightly obsessed.
have them in my apartment. my classroom.
put flowers in them. wrap cute farm ribbon 'round them. each table group at school has their pencils and pens, erasers in them. quite useful they are. and free.

41. my Grand.father
we were kindred spirits of sorts. and he loved me more than anything.
he was an artist. a wise ass.
could be mean as all else, but had all the love in his heart for his family.
the whole town of madison knew him in the two months after he moved in, Big Lou _ but only 5 feet tall, loved food. Sen.Sen., cashews, and rye toast. always had his camera with him.
just thinking about him makes me cry. i miss him.

40. the beach at night. not during the day. i actually hate it during the day. i will now readily admit that i'm not a beach person. that's really not the popular opinion. but since #64. after growing into myself.. i am willing to admit this .. sun poisoning is not my favorite thing. and that seems to conveniently happen each time i head toward the beach these days. or as in Fools Rush In style, [5:12] one of my favorite movies...

"in Case you haven't noTiced, the white people are melting out here!"

a lovely dummy

the last few weeks of school have not been easy. a lot has been happening in the school district and the fact that it is nearing june is not helpful in any way, shape or form. the kids can feel it in the air. even the most polite child has a new sass in their step. 

without fail though, even on the worst day, there will always be a glimpse or glimmer of hope. 

the scene below was from monday.  

all from a young man, i brought to the office twice that day

you should have seen the concoction he created with a folder, pencils and pens. 

looked like a medieval torture device. 

at the end of the day,

i sat at the group work table with him_ 

often times the only place he will work. 

this is what he comes out with // /

"I wonder why they say:
you know things 'BY HEART' instead of know things 'by mind'?
Cause you know things with your mind."  
He paused for a while, reflecting. 
"I wonder a lot of things like that." 


it's in moments like that_ that i love my job. luckily, they appear quite frequently. i just sit back and smile, snapping away with my imaginary camera. . and jotting down what silly or thoughtful things they say. 


Think about it though. 
I  have.  
I've spent the last few days tossing this idea back and forth around in my mind. 
And all the things I've known with MY HEART, are the ones that i've experienced the most extremes emotions with. 
the MOST love, or the most heartache. i felt the most loss over. the songs i know BY HEART are the ones, that usually make me laugh or cry... they are the ones that touch the inner core of my HEART. sometimes i misread things or people, sometimes i've misunderstood situations, but i don't think i would take back anything, ever. 


The things i know with my mind. obviously are worth knowing, 
but if i only had one choice. 
to know either love and pain with my heart.. .
or 
know hard cold facts with my mind. 


only could have one? 


i think i would rather be a dummy with love. 
fer sur. 


maybe i'm thinking too long and hard about this all. 
maybe not. 

the Source

This is an illustration of a series and parallel circuit.

In a series circuit_ one bulb is connected to another bulb _  which is connected to another bulb, which eventually down the road, is connected to the battery. .The power source. Problem is - if one of those bulbs is a dud, you're done for… no juice is getting through.

In a parallel series, each bulb is connected directly to the battery. It doesn’t have to go through another set of bulbs to make its way.  Each one has a direct connection to the source.

In the process of making this complicated science more real to my students today, I asked them, can you think of any real life examples of series and parallel connections?  - 

Where the best relationship... . is a direct connection to the power Source? 

It's funny when I stand up in the front of the classroom and words start spilling out of mouth, light bulbs literally start going off. It happens quite often. Part of the reason I started to blog, I’m thinking.

they came up with some great ideas: {ignoring the fact, that biblical truths are slappin' me in the face}

1. dominoes: one goes down. they all go down = series. 

2. the next was a good one for a parallel circuit. A plane engine. If the first one dies, you have another one to back it up. Aren’t they smart??? I assured them,  this was why they should never be worried on a plane.. even though I’m still a 10% nervous flier..

this lesson got me thinking…. am I more connected to God through Christian books, devotionals, blogs and fellow believers {other ‘light bulbs’} all which eventually link up to the Source…. or am I, on a DAILY BASIS directly linked to the Source? through prayer and worship, thanksgiving?

There's no wonder a bulb will shine brighter when it is lit with a parallel circuit rather than a series circuit. 

He is brightest Light.

Science thought for the day: 

Do I make an effort every day... . even throughout the day... .. to restart my circuit with CHRIST at the center?

too small for nothing!

years ago when i taught second grade, i painted this phrase on a giant piece of roll.out paper and posted it in the classroom. i was thinking about it on friday, as i sat with my fourth graders on the reading rug and how i wanted to recreate it again this year... i couldn't quite remember the exact phrase, though. Then last night _  not by a coincidence, ... i'm done believing in those things. i stumbled upon this without even searching for it... it FOUND me!.. time to whip out the paintbrushes on MOnday.

sign on the dotted line

MESSAGE FROM JAMIE:: :

The American Food Revolution needs to start now! If you care about your country and the health of its children please help us make a difference. We need your support to get people back in touch with food and keep cooking skills alive before it's too late. We want to make sure every kid gets good, fresh food at school.

http://www.jamieoliver.com/campaigns/jamies-food-revolution/petition

becoming Real.

Read the second sentence from each photo.

Valenteen is my teacher favrit book.

Yes, that is one of my little guys. Try to ignore the spelling and focus on the meaning. "velveteen" was the spelling word.

earlier in the week, i mentioned to my class that The Velveteen Rabbit was my very favorite book of all time. mentioned it just once. it's funny how the students who don't usually listen the first time, heard that. Three quarters of the kids used this idea as their context clue sentence for homework.

This book has a special home in my heart.

The illustrations and lyrical artistic way in which it is written.

without fail, i tear up every time i read it.

it seems just a simple story

the tale of how a little boy's love turns a velveteen rabbit into a real animal.

but it's not just a story about silly bunny with worn whiskers and ears.

it's the story of each of us

and how love awakens us.

makes us feel alive.

opens our eyes

and our souls

'Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real, you can't be ugly, except to the people who don't understand."

..........................

That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him, under the bedclothes, that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in.. . And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.

And so time went on, and the little Rabbit was very happy - so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail coming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him.

...................................

Weeks passed and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lost his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.