I know it is the shortest month, but, seriously, where did it go?!
Well, my goal is to blog the alphabet monthly this year, so here it is February 28th and I am writing the entire alphabet because I wrote nothing the last 27 days. Great. I've learned a lot in my few short months as a mom, so that is my theme this month.
A is for adore I have used the word before, and I'm sure I thought I knew what it meant. However, there is nothing that has taught me what it means more than becoming a parent. When I was in college and the first of my friends had a baby, I remember her saying, "We just sit here and stare at her all day." I laughed then because I thought it was a joke; I laugh now because I know it was true. There is just something about having a little piece of yourself take the form of another human that is indescribable.
B is for baths They aren't just for hygiene and relaxation. It turns out a well-timed bath can distract my starting-to-fuss-because-he-wants-to-sleep baby when it is just not quite late enough for him to go to bed (because I don't like waking up before the roosters, y'all.)
C is for colic but it's not as common as you think. This is the word your relatives will all think of first the moment your baby starts to whimper. Let me tell you something, folks: Babies cry. Newborns cry even more. It's just a fact of life. It is their first line of communication, so if your baby is hungry, tired, wet, overstimulated, restless, sleepy, groggy, full, sore, confused, surprised, cold, hot, or generally out of sorts, you can expect to hear about it in the form of a cry.
D is for diapers, diapers, diapers, diaper genie, and even more diapers I knew that babies went through a lot of diapers, and I knew that newborns were particularly skilled at diaper-disappearing acts. I had no idea that we would use 50-75 diapers a week. That is a lot of diapers, people. Thanks to Amazon Mom I now have a subscription to something I never expected to have delivered by UPS.
E is for extra clothes... for the baby and for you. Trust me. You want to have extra clothes on hand at all times. You just can't imagine how handy this can be unless you have a child.
F is for faces Babies have a wide range of facial expressions and with every passing day they are learning new ones. This is an endless source of amusement for you, your mom, your next door neighbor, and all of your Facebook friends. A few months later you'll look back and think, Maybe that one wasn't as amazing as I thought. But you won't care because you'll be so distracted by how tiny he was and how quickly the time seems to have passed.
G is for gas drops...I never knew how important this little bottle of baby-specific medicine would be to my sanity. It is a life saver.
H is for hands They are the first of a thousand things your baby will stick in his mouth as soon as he gets the chance.
I is for itty bitty Everything is cute when it's itty bitty. The cutest thing I've ever seen is my 6 foot 1 inch tall, 250 pound beast of a husband scrunching his face and lifting his shoulders as he giggled over the cuteness of our son's first loads of laundry.
J is for jump This is what you do when you realize your three-month-old darling has just somehow managed to flip himself over on the sofa in the time it took you to cross the room and he is now falling head-first toward the floor. (Don't worry; we caught him. Lesson learned.)
K is for kisses The first kiss I received from my son was a mouth-wide-open, slobbery scrub of his wet face against my cheek, and I've gotta tell the truth. . . I kinda loved it.
L is for layette That means the wardrobe of a newborn. And that is just the start of the strangeness that is baby clothing. I've always thought it odd that women's clothing have arbitrarily been assigned a nonsensical numbering system so unlike the practical measurement-driven men's sizing. But baby clothes! Baby clothes have the strangest sizing of all... they come in months. Now, tell me how that makes sense. Preemie, Newborn, 0-3 months, 3 months, 3-6 months, 6 months, 6-9 months, 9 months, 9-12 months, 12 months, 12-18 months, 18 months, 24 months... these are all sizes I have seen on the tags of baby clothes, and, of course, they differ from brand to brand. Who makes this stuff up?! Scenario: On the same day that my 9 lb 11 oz big boy is born, a gal down the hall is delivering her 5 pounds-soaking-wet palm full of joy. Now, today, my boy wriggles into a 3 months outfit and hers disappears inside of his Newborn threads. They're both about 47 minutes "old", and in a couple of months they'll both be 10 weeks old when Tiny Tim is still sporting his Newborn layette and my little big man is pushing his long legs into a pair of 6 months jeans. Does this make any sense to anyone? To be fair, most brands list out weight and length suggestions to accompany their "sizes", but why not just lead off with that? Wouldn't it be easier to go buy a 10 pound sleep-n-play from any retailer than to shuffle through tiny tags in tiny clothes on tiny hangers to determine how many months old Gymboree thinks your baby should be?
M is for manicure In four months I'm pretty sure I've clipped my baby boy's nails more times than I do my own in a year. Those claws get sharp in a hurry. I know for a fact I have filed his finger nails in four months more times than I have filed my own in 29 years. No lie.
N is for nasal aspirators Yuck, right? But when nothing else is available to help your baby breathe, you do what you've gotta do, and it just isn't as gross as you thought it would be.
O is for onesie This is a word that is trademarked and owned by Gerber. Any other similar item from a different brand will most likely be tagged a body suit. Actual Onesies will have a tag on the side to identify them.
P is for poop I never thought I would be one to discuss bowel movements on a regular basis, but that's just par for the course in this game. Though, I can proudly say, to this day I have not succumbed to the high-pitched cutesie discussions nor the sharing with people outside of the childcare inner circle.
Q is for quiet It has a whole new value once you've spent a few hours soothing a cranky little "bundle of joy".
R is for rooting This is what a breastfed baby (or any newborn for that matter) does when he is hungry. Do not doubt that he is going to make his intent clearly known whether you are ready or able to feed him or not. The word reminds me of an animal, but, then, so does my hungry baby at times.
S is for sleeping in 3-5 hour shifts Just when you think he's in a steady routine, you encounter a growth spurt, bout of congestion, or another stretch of teething and suddenly you're back to eye-twitching, zombie-like sleep patterns.
T is for thyme tea Though it isn't actually a tea so much as an herbal infusion, we recently learned that a little fresh thyme can go a long way toward clearing our baby's congestion. His reaction started out funny since he was tasting something bad for the first time in his short life, but he has gotten wise to our game and now fights the medicine dropper outright. Of course, that doesn't stop us from mixing a couple droppers full of thyme infusion into his bottle of milk. :)
U is for the unexpected This is the theme of parenthood... whatever you plan, you have to be prepared for it to go awry. Babies are unpredictable, but you can almost always predict that they are going to make a mess for you to clean up when you are running late.
V is for video monitoring My fantastically techie husband rigged a security camera he found on eBay to provide us with instant visual confirmation of our baby's wakefulness or lack there of. It connects to our WiFi, so we can check it from any computer or even our iPhones! It is so great to be able to check on Will's sounds without going into his room I hate to imagine night time parenting without it.
W is for water sounds Whether it's the bathtub running, the sound machine playing, rain falling, or the dishwasher washing, water sounds have an amazingly soothing effect on my little fella. I'm so thankful for a smart phone that can produce these noises anywhere we go.
X is for examinations Give me a break, I haven't slept through the night in weeks and X is a hard letter. When you have a baby, you're given a long schedule of what they call Well Baby Checkups. These are regularly-scheduled doctors appointments which subject your little one to measuring, shots, and assessment of all sorts so frequently you'll feel like you should be renting a space in your pediatrician's waiting room. What's particularly surprising is how eXcited one finds herself in the anticipation of learning how much weight her baby has gained over the previous month.
Y is for yesterday... the day I was planning to get everything done. Babies are crazy-big time consumers. Eventually, I'm sure, we'll figure out how to actually accomplish things in addition to parenting. In the mean time, his cuteness will distract guests from our unfinished chores and the fact that they are eating frozen pizza.
Z is for zippers Flip one upside down and sew it to a blanket and you have the most amazing invention ever to hit the shelves or Babies R Us... the Sleep Sack. Not only can my little dream kicker not knock it off in the night, but it has a sleeping bag effect of cozying him in for the night and allows instant access to a wet-at-3AM diaper.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Z is for zigzag
LifLG says:
zigzag (ZIG-zag) verb
cutting across from side to side. If you need to waste a few hours, you could measure the zigzaggedness of the zippers on all your pants.
Today I had to attend an all-day meeting at my school district's central services office. Being a wee bit late and rather familiar with the setting, I carefully slipped in the door that I knew would put me in at the back end of the meeting room. After standing just inside, scanning the room, for a few minutes I realized that my team was, of course, sitting at the very front. Someone near me suggested I go back out and re-enter through the front entrance. The room was full, crowded with tables that were probably arranged in an organized fashion until the many people had settled in for the day, and extension cords and power strips criss-crossed the floors to allow for laptop usage. I was carrying my computer bag, my lunch box, a personal bag, and a glass of ice water, but there was no way I was going to walk out and come back in before all of those watchful eyes. Instead, I meticulously zigzagged among my colleagues, gracefully avoiding bumps and trips, and eased myself into a spot at the back of my group. Flawless.
zigzag (ZIG-zag) verb
cutting across from side to side. If you need to waste a few hours, you could measure the zigzaggedness of the zippers on all your pants.
Today I had to attend an all-day meeting at my school district's central services office. Being a wee bit late and rather familiar with the setting, I carefully slipped in the door that I knew would put me in at the back end of the meeting room. After standing just inside, scanning the room, for a few minutes I realized that my team was, of course, sitting at the very front. Someone near me suggested I go back out and re-enter through the front entrance. The room was full, crowded with tables that were probably arranged in an organized fashion until the many people had settled in for the day, and extension cords and power strips criss-crossed the floors to allow for laptop usage. I was carrying my computer bag, my lunch box, a personal bag, and a glass of ice water, but there was no way I was going to walk out and come back in before all of those watchful eyes. Instead, I meticulously zigzagged among my colleagues, gracefully avoiding bumps and trips, and eased myself into a spot at the back of my group. Flawless.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Y is for yonder
LifLG says:
yonder (YON-der) adjective, adverb
you know: somewhere up ahead, over there, in the distance but not too far away
I am an English teacher, and, being such, I value precision in use of the language. However, I am a Southern girl, born and raised, and I appreciate a sweet Southern drawl. When I ask you for directions, feel free to include the word yonder in your response, but don't include it in a run-on sentence. ;)
yonder (YON-der) adjective, adverb
you know: somewhere up ahead, over there, in the distance but not too far away
I am an English teacher, and, being such, I value precision in use of the language. However, I am a Southern girl, born and raised, and I appreciate a sweet Southern drawl. When I ask you for directions, feel free to include the word yonder in your response, but don't include it in a run-on sentence. ;)
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
X is for xylophone
LifLG says:
xylophone (ZY-luh-fone) noun
a percussion instrument played with wooden hammers
For the longest time, one has been able to walk into nearly any elementary classroom in America and spot a xylophone sitting near the end of the alphabet. The few who don't will likely be viewing a fantastically unreal x-ray with some illustrated child or animal poking his or her head around a square picture of something akin to bones. One must suppose this is because so few non-technical words begin with the letter. The glaring fallacy in these banners is that neither a xylophone nor an x-ray demonstrates the sound of an "x". Xylophone suggests that an "x" sounds like a "z", and x-ray simply says the name of the letter. Modern times have seen some more phonetic banners which use illustrations like fox or box to demonstrate the sound of the letter "X"; though these may require explanation where others do not, they certainly do a better job of fulfilling the purpose of making a phonemic connection for a student who can not yet read. Until everyone catches on to this great truth, the xylophone lives on in infamy.
xylophone (ZY-luh-fone) noun
a percussion instrument played with wooden hammers
For the longest time, one has been able to walk into nearly any elementary classroom in America and spot a xylophone sitting near the end of the alphabet. The few who don't will likely be viewing a fantastically unreal x-ray with some illustrated child or animal poking his or her head around a square picture of something akin to bones. One must suppose this is because so few non-technical words begin with the letter. The glaring fallacy in these banners is that neither a xylophone nor an x-ray demonstrates the sound of an "x". Xylophone suggests that an "x" sounds like a "z", and x-ray simply says the name of the letter. Modern times have seen some more phonetic banners which use illustrations like fox or box to demonstrate the sound of the letter "X"; though these may require explanation where others do not, they certainly do a better job of fulfilling the purpose of making a phonemic connection for a student who can not yet read. Until everyone catches on to this great truth, the xylophone lives on in infamy.
Monday, January 28, 2013
W is for wonky
LifLG says:
wonky (WON-kee) adjective
shaky or unsteady. See also awry.
A wonky chair drives me up the wall. I either lean to make it stay still or I continually wobble to make the unsteadiness have some semblance of steadiness. It's a losing battle. Meh.
wonky (WON-kee) adjective
shaky or unsteady. See also awry.
A wonky chair drives me up the wall. I either lean to make it stay still or I continually wobble to make the unsteadiness have some semblance of steadiness. It's a losing battle. Meh.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
V is for vignette
LifLG says:
vignette (vin-YET) noun
a short but descriptive passage in a book or scene in a movie
In my efforts to earn a 7-12 English endorsement for my teaching license, I took a class in adolescent literature. One of the books that we read was The House on Mango Street, which is a coming-of-age novella written entirely in brief vignettes. I was surprised to find that the book, although new to my reading list, is as old as I am. The tiny sections within describe the main character's thoughts, observations, and experiences in a somewhat disconnected fashion, but the overall effect is a book I can read again and again. Occasionally I choose a vignette to read aloud to my students, but I can almost never put it down without reading a few more sections just for me.
vignette (vin-YET) noun
a short but descriptive passage in a book or scene in a movie
In my efforts to earn a 7-12 English endorsement for my teaching license, I took a class in adolescent literature. One of the books that we read was The House on Mango Street, which is a coming-of-age novella written entirely in brief vignettes. I was surprised to find that the book, although new to my reading list, is as old as I am. The tiny sections within describe the main character's thoughts, observations, and experiences in a somewhat disconnected fashion, but the overall effect is a book I can read again and again. Occasionally I choose a vignette to read aloud to my students, but I can almost never put it down without reading a few more sections just for me.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
U is for undulation
LifLG says:
undulation (un-joo-LAY-shun) noun
a steady up-and-down or to-and-fro motion; sometimes used as a fancy word for speed bumps
My adorable infant loves undulation; it always seems to soothe him. Experts say that babies enjoy movement because during gestation they move with the motion of their mothers' bodies. We've found that motion is one of the two best ways to calm our darling. This is so true that I purchased a stability ball, in his first weeks of life, on which we could bounce during his fussy jags. It works so well not only for general fussiness but for gas, fighting-sleep syndrome, and restlessness. Who knew there was a $20 solution to all of those complaints?
undulation (un-joo-LAY-shun) noun
a steady up-and-down or to-and-fro motion; sometimes used as a fancy word for speed bumps
My adorable infant loves undulation; it always seems to soothe him. Experts say that babies enjoy movement because during gestation they move with the motion of their mothers' bodies. We've found that motion is one of the two best ways to calm our darling. This is so true that I purchased a stability ball, in his first weeks of life, on which we could bounce during his fussy jags. It works so well not only for general fussiness but for gas, fighting-sleep syndrome, and restlessness. Who knew there was a $20 solution to all of those complaints?
T is for tintinnabulation
LifLG says:
tintinnabulation (tin-tih-nab-yoo-LAY-shun) noun
the jingling sound that bells make
L is for Lollygag had several excellent "t" words, but I thought this one was the most fun. Tintinnabulation is one of my favorite non-important parts of the Christmas season. I put jingle bells on my tree, my wreath, and randomly about my house. This year I had the most fun attaching a jingle bell ornament about the size of a plum to Will's hands and feet and watching his face as he discovered the tintinnabulation that occurred when he shook or kicked. :) I hope he learns to love the sound like I do.
tintinnabulation (tin-tih-nab-yoo-LAY-shun) noun
the jingling sound that bells make
L is for Lollygag had several excellent "t" words, but I thought this one was the most fun. Tintinnabulation is one of my favorite non-important parts of the Christmas season. I put jingle bells on my tree, my wreath, and randomly about my house. This year I had the most fun attaching a jingle bell ornament about the size of a plum to Will's hands and feet and watching his face as he discovered the tintinnabulation that occurred when he shook or kicked. :) I hope he learns to love the sound like I do.
S is for southpaw
LifLG says:
southpaw (SOWTH-pah) noun
a slang term for anyone who is left handed, but especially a left-handed baseball pitcher, which makes sense because in many ballparks the pitcher faces west, so his left hand is on the south side
southpaw (SOWTH-pah) noun
a slang term for anyone who is left handed, but especially a left-handed baseball pitcher, which makes sense because in many ballparks the pitcher faces west, so his left hand is on the south side
Our little slugger has only been holding things for about a month, but we have started noticing he almost always uses his left hand to hold things. Even when we place things in his right hand he's a little lazy about doing anything with it. A little research online suggests that left or right handedness is not truly revealed until 2 or 3 years of age; in fact, some in the childhood development field suggest that children are totally ambidextrous until 18 months of age. We shall see...
Friday, January 25, 2013
R is for ruckus
LifLG says:
ruckus (RUK-us) noun
a big disturbance
Lately Will's favorite thing seems to be blowing bubbles as noisily as possible. It's quite shocking how loud he can be. Last night we attended a meeting with some other members of our church's college ministry. Our little darling was quiet and precious throughout the discussion, and then we had prayer, during which he began to make a ruckus. As the prayer began, he blew bubbles as loudly as he ever had. Although those praying continued as if nothing had happened, we could feel the giggles and chuckles welling up inside of everyone around us. His bubble blowing got so loud at one point, I struggled to hear the prayer at all. That adorable little ruckus raiser!
ruckus (RUK-us) noun
a big disturbance
Lately Will's favorite thing seems to be blowing bubbles as noisily as possible. It's quite shocking how loud he can be. Last night we attended a meeting with some other members of our church's college ministry. Our little darling was quiet and precious throughout the discussion, and then we had prayer, during which he began to make a ruckus. As the prayer began, he blew bubbles as loudly as he ever had. Although those praying continued as if nothing had happened, we could feel the giggles and chuckles welling up inside of everyone around us. His bubble blowing got so loud at one point, I struggled to hear the prayer at all. That adorable little ruckus raiser!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Q is for quagmire
LifLG says:
quagmire (KWAG-my-er) noun
a mush, marshy, swampy area, but also any kind of sticky situation or predicament
L is for Lollygag only has seven "q" words, and none of them bring stories or illustrations to mind tonight. This is somewhat of a quagmire for my blog and me.
quagmire (KWAG-my-er) noun
a mush, marshy, swampy area, but also any kind of sticky situation or predicament
L is for Lollygag only has seven "q" words, and none of them bring stories or illustrations to mind tonight. This is somewhat of a quagmire for my blog and me.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
P is for piddling
LifLG says:
piddling (PID-leeng) adjective
trifling, small, and inconsequential, as in a piddling amount of Halloween candy
Things in which I have a piddling amount of interest:
piddling (PID-leeng) adjective
trifling, small, and inconsequential, as in a piddling amount of Halloween candy
Things in which I have a piddling amount of interest:
- politics
- professional sports
- fashion trends
- being popular
- sushi
- candies that do not contain chocolate
- running
- mathematics
O is for oodles
LifLG says:
oodles (OO-duhlz) noun
lots and lots. See also umpteen.
I love books. I love libraries, book stores, and shelves. I love to read books and look at books and give books as gifts and share books and read books aloud. In college, as an Elementary Education major, I spent a lot of time talking and thinking about books and reading. I remembered how I had finished all of my own books as a child and then made my way through anything my mother had to read. Some titles I recalled reading in Junior High-the time when my desire to read surpassed my available material-were The Jerk (Remember the Steve Martin film?), Pilgrim's Progress (You should have seen the look on my senior English teacher's face!), and Reader's Digest Condensed Books, Volume 198. It was as I recalled those days that I pledged to ensure my children (and my students) would always have enough books to fulfill their reading needs and interests. Armed with resolution and a love of bargains, I started building my library. The 6x6 foot bookcase in our house is now home to over 200 titles for children, and that's not counting the 4 shelves of adolescent books in my classroom! I think it's safe to say the Wallace children will have oodles of books.
oodles (OO-duhlz) noun
lots and lots. See also umpteen.
I love books. I love libraries, book stores, and shelves. I love to read books and look at books and give books as gifts and share books and read books aloud. In college, as an Elementary Education major, I spent a lot of time talking and thinking about books and reading. I remembered how I had finished all of my own books as a child and then made my way through anything my mother had to read. Some titles I recalled reading in Junior High-the time when my desire to read surpassed my available material-were The Jerk (Remember the Steve Martin film?), Pilgrim's Progress (You should have seen the look on my senior English teacher's face!), and Reader's Digest Condensed Books, Volume 198. It was as I recalled those days that I pledged to ensure my children (and my students) would always have enough books to fulfill their reading needs and interests. Armed with resolution and a love of bargains, I started building my library. The 6x6 foot bookcase in our house is now home to over 200 titles for children, and that's not counting the 4 shelves of adolescent books in my classroom! I think it's safe to say the Wallace children will have oodles of books.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
N is for nonchalance
LifLG says:
nonchalance (non-shuh-LONS) noun
an air of cool indifference; some people work hard to get this just right
I used to be one of those people who worked hard at nonchalance. I'd practice saying things over and over in my mind, hoping I'd have the opportunity to seem cool and like I didn't care that I was. Clever comebacks, intelligent remarks, and baffling banter constantly swirled through my stream of consciousness, yet the opportunity to use them never seemed to arise. And on the rare occasion that it did, I was sure to bungle it.
I remember one particular incidence in college. While attending a concert, I was wearing a cool Tshirt with a popular-to-certain-crowds brand name. I kept thinking, if someone commented on it I would just say something that was my equivalent of "What? This old thing?" I'd rehearsed in my head in the car until I decided on my response: It keeps the rain off. Oh, yeah. I was going to be playing it super cool.
When some Big Man on campus approached me and grinned easily, "Nice shirt," I was so flustered that what actually came out of my mouth was, "Yeah, it keeps me wet." Of course I immediately realized what had happened and tried to recover quickly, but he was already walking away with a chuckle, shaking his head as if he thought, This girl is some kind of crazy.
Oh, well. It was until I relaxed and learned not to care that I mastered the art of nonchalance. But, then, it no longer mattered, did it?
nonchalance (non-shuh-LONS) noun
an air of cool indifference; some people work hard to get this just right
I used to be one of those people who worked hard at nonchalance. I'd practice saying things over and over in my mind, hoping I'd have the opportunity to seem cool and like I didn't care that I was. Clever comebacks, intelligent remarks, and baffling banter constantly swirled through my stream of consciousness, yet the opportunity to use them never seemed to arise. And on the rare occasion that it did, I was sure to bungle it.
I remember one particular incidence in college. While attending a concert, I was wearing a cool Tshirt with a popular-to-certain-crowds brand name. I kept thinking, if someone commented on it I would just say something that was my equivalent of "What? This old thing?" I'd rehearsed in my head in the car until I decided on my response: It keeps the rain off. Oh, yeah. I was going to be playing it super cool.
When some Big Man on campus approached me and grinned easily, "Nice shirt," I was so flustered that what actually came out of my mouth was, "Yeah, it keeps me wet." Of course I immediately realized what had happened and tried to recover quickly, but he was already walking away with a chuckle, shaking his head as if he thought, This girl is some kind of crazy.
Oh, well. It was until I relaxed and learned not to care that I mastered the art of nonchalance. But, then, it no longer mattered, did it?
Monday, January 21, 2013
M is for mollycoddle
LifLG says:
mollycoddle (MAH-lee-kah-duhl) verb, noun
as a verb, this means to pamper or spoil someone, and as a noun, this is that someone who is pampered or spoiled
Dear William,
Your dad and I love you very much. Today you are three months old and you depend on us for everything. Each day watching you grow and develop is exciting for us. Your little toothless, sometimes-crooked grin melts our hearts as quickly as your sad little tears. Right now we are happy to see to any need you have however often these needs may occur. But, one day down the road, you will begin to learn how to meet some of those needs on your own.
When that time comes, we promise to support you, encourage you, and occasionally let you fail. Because we recognize the value of a struggle, your dad and I will let go of your hand when it's time for you to have a go at it on your own, and because we want you to be strong and courageous, we'll step back, bite our tongues, and trust the Lord when you need to fight your own battles.
Though it may be hard to one day see our darling baby boy become a man, we vow to do so with grace. We'll do these things because we would never want anyone to view you as a mollycoddle and, more importantly, we don't want you to be one.
Our deepest desire for you, son, is that you'll be a confident but humble man who loves and serves God no matter the cost. We'll be praying for you, and you can always call on us when you need to, but with the Lord's wisdom and mercy we will teach you how to recognize when you need to not call on us.
Love you,
Mama
mollycoddle (MAH-lee-kah-duhl) verb, noun
as a verb, this means to pamper or spoil someone, and as a noun, this is that someone who is pampered or spoiled
Dear William,
Your dad and I love you very much. Today you are three months old and you depend on us for everything. Each day watching you grow and develop is exciting for us. Your little toothless, sometimes-crooked grin melts our hearts as quickly as your sad little tears. Right now we are happy to see to any need you have however often these needs may occur. But, one day down the road, you will begin to learn how to meet some of those needs on your own.
When that time comes, we promise to support you, encourage you, and occasionally let you fail. Because we recognize the value of a struggle, your dad and I will let go of your hand when it's time for you to have a go at it on your own, and because we want you to be strong and courageous, we'll step back, bite our tongues, and trust the Lord when you need to fight your own battles.
Though it may be hard to one day see our darling baby boy become a man, we vow to do so with grace. We'll do these things because we would never want anyone to view you as a mollycoddle and, more importantly, we don't want you to be one.
Our deepest desire for you, son, is that you'll be a confident but humble man who loves and serves God no matter the cost. We'll be praying for you, and you can always call on us when you need to, but with the Lord's wisdom and mercy we will teach you how to recognize when you need to not call on us.
Love you,
Mama
Sunday, January 20, 2013
L is for lollygag
LifLG says:
lollygag (LOL-ee-gag) verb
No, this doesn't have anything to do with choking on a lollipop. It means to dawdle, waste time, lag behind, and generally slow things down, basically the opposite of lickety-split.
Lolly gagging is something I have often been accused of doing. Assuredly, I frequently bring up the rear of a group. However, this is never without reason; I'm just a smell-the-roses kind of girl. Last one of the Empire State Building Observation deck? I was just listening to the audio tour in its entirety. Late getting back from the book store? I was perusing the bargain tables. You had to wait for me after the movie? I was reading the credits.
Wish I hadn't taken so long to get where you wanted me to be? Maybe I was lolly gagging, but most of the time there was a reason.
lollygag (LOL-ee-gag) verb
No, this doesn't have anything to do with choking on a lollipop. It means to dawdle, waste time, lag behind, and generally slow things down, basically the opposite of lickety-split.
Lolly gagging is something I have often been accused of doing. Assuredly, I frequently bring up the rear of a group. However, this is never without reason; I'm just a smell-the-roses kind of girl. Last one of the Empire State Building Observation deck? I was just listening to the audio tour in its entirety. Late getting back from the book store? I was perusing the bargain tables. You had to wait for me after the movie? I was reading the credits.
Wish I hadn't taken so long to get where you wanted me to be? Maybe I was lolly gagging, but most of the time there was a reason.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
K is for kibosh
LifLG says:
kibosh (KY-bosh or kih-BOSH) noun
something that puts a stop to something else. The phrase "put the kibosh on" has been around since the early 1800s, and it means to stop something dead in its tracks (similar to "nip it in the bud").
Any quality educator or parent can tell you that more than yelling, acting or any other avenue, a firmly delivered gaze is the most effective kibosh for a loquacious child.
kibosh (KY-bosh or kih-BOSH) noun
something that puts a stop to something else. The phrase "put the kibosh on" has been around since the early 1800s, and it means to stop something dead in its tracks (similar to "nip it in the bud").
Any quality educator or parent can tell you that more than yelling, acting or any other avenue, a firmly delivered gaze is the most effective kibosh for a loquacious child.
Friday, January 18, 2013
J is for juxtaposition
LifLG says:
juxtaposition (juks-tuh-puh-ZISH-un)
the side-by-side appearance of things. You might agree that the juxtaposition of a chartreuse scarf with a pink sweater would be pretty ghastly.
My husband is 6'1", which I have had to convince him is noticeably tall. I, on the other hand, have always been right at average (for a female) with a little more than 5 feet and 4 inches. When it comes to taking photos, a whopping 9-inch difference between us serves as quite a juxtaposition. Since I am perpetually in flats we have to make an effort to avoid blank space or use it creatively, but the results are usually pretty sweet.
juxtaposition (juks-tuh-puh-ZISH-un)
the side-by-side appearance of things. You might agree that the juxtaposition of a chartreuse scarf with a pink sweater would be pretty ghastly.
My husband is 6'1", which I have had to convince him is noticeably tall. I, on the other hand, have always been right at average (for a female) with a little more than 5 feet and 4 inches. When it comes to taking photos, a whopping 9-inch difference between us serves as quite a juxtaposition. Since I am perpetually in flats we have to make an effort to avoid blank space or use it creatively, but the results are usually pretty sweet.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
I is for indubitably
LifLG says:
indubitably (in-DOO-bih-tuh-blee) adverb
definitely, without a doubt, no question about it. And how!
It's kind of amazing how much one learns when one must teach. The need to explain a concept to someone else implies the need to throughly understand all aspects of that concept. After years of English Language Arts classes there were still many distinctions in grammar that I could recognize but not rationalize. Good vs. well, for example, led me to the entire adjective-adverb discussion. As I prepared to teach rules such as this one I would search for as many books, materials, and examples as I could find or create to help my students digest these things. I wanted them to understand how to differentiate among various parts of speech, when to use certain spellings and endings, and all of the other things that I had just learned the "how to do" without understanding the "why". I wanted them to "get it" instead of just "getting through it". One of my favorite resources was an oldie (but goodie): School House Rock. It amazed me how much my class of sixth-grade students loved the videos, especially the adverb ditty: Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, Get Your Adverbs Here! They indubitably loved singing along with the up-tempo little song that details the functions and rules of adverbs and gives numerous examples of them, but they never seemed to be able to tell me anything about adverbs afterwards. I realized being able to circle adverbs on a sheet or sort them from a list of adjectives was many steps away from being able to explain what an adverb is and what it does, and I knew that I'd have to keep trying to get my students to that pinnacle of grammar mastery. Indubitably!
indubitably (in-DOO-bih-tuh-blee) adverb
definitely, without a doubt, no question about it. And how!
It's kind of amazing how much one learns when one must teach. The need to explain a concept to someone else implies the need to throughly understand all aspects of that concept. After years of English Language Arts classes there were still many distinctions in grammar that I could recognize but not rationalize. Good vs. well, for example, led me to the entire adjective-adverb discussion. As I prepared to teach rules such as this one I would search for as many books, materials, and examples as I could find or create to help my students digest these things. I wanted them to understand how to differentiate among various parts of speech, when to use certain spellings and endings, and all of the other things that I had just learned the "how to do" without understanding the "why". I wanted them to "get it" instead of just "getting through it". One of my favorite resources was an oldie (but goodie): School House Rock. It amazed me how much my class of sixth-grade students loved the videos, especially the adverb ditty: Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, Get Your Adverbs Here! They indubitably loved singing along with the up-tempo little song that details the functions and rules of adverbs and gives numerous examples of them, but they never seemed to be able to tell me anything about adverbs afterwards. I realized being able to circle adverbs on a sheet or sort them from a list of adjectives was many steps away from being able to explain what an adverb is and what it does, and I knew that I'd have to keep trying to get my students to that pinnacle of grammar mastery. Indubitably!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
H is for hackneyed
LifLG says:
hackneyed (HAK-need) adjective
stale, boring, done to death
At this time of year I'm preparing my students for our annual English proficiency exam. When I have them practice writing I tend to hear a lot of complaints and many of the same irritated questions year after year. The most hackneyed of these occurs when they flip through the pages and whine, "Do we have to use all of these pages?" I patiently explain, again and again, that the lines are there for the students' benefit, that some people need more space than others but there is no rule regarding the number of pages they must use. Maybe one day I'll convince them that writing is about expression not requirements, but in the mean time I'll just keep smiling and repeating myself.
hackneyed (HAK-need) adjective
stale, boring, done to death
At this time of year I'm preparing my students for our annual English proficiency exam. When I have them practice writing I tend to hear a lot of complaints and many of the same irritated questions year after year. The most hackneyed of these occurs when they flip through the pages and whine, "Do we have to use all of these pages?" I patiently explain, again and again, that the lines are there for the students' benefit, that some people need more space than others but there is no rule regarding the number of pages they must use. Maybe one day I'll convince them that writing is about expression not requirements, but in the mean time I'll just keep smiling and repeating myself.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
C is for Chesed
Today is the 30th birthday of one of my dearest friends, so I will stretch myself for a bonus blog...
Have you ever played that get-to-know-you game where you have to say your name and give an adjective that starts with the same letter? I have never liked those games because my name begins with "K", and it is difficult to come up with quality adjectives that begin with "K", especially when you are put on the spot. I always think of kind but feel that it would be arrogant to refer to myself as so. Once I used kicky to be funny. There's always kinetic, but then people expect you to be energetic and bubbly, which I haven't really been since probably 2003 or so. Well, "C" is somewhat easier than "K" if you ask me, but after this post Chesed Dent will never struggle for a C-word again. After each word follows a brief argument for why each word applies to her; many of them could have numerous examples, but, then, this blog would take 30 years to read. I'll keep it short and sweet. At some points it may get a little bit odd, but, hey, 30 is a lot of adjectives that start with "C".
Have you ever played that get-to-know-you game where you have to say your name and give an adjective that starts with the same letter? I have never liked those games because my name begins with "K", and it is difficult to come up with quality adjectives that begin with "K", especially when you are put on the spot. I always think of kind but feel that it would be arrogant to refer to myself as so. Once I used kicky to be funny. There's always kinetic, but then people expect you to be energetic and bubbly, which I haven't really been since probably 2003 or so. Well, "C" is somewhat easier than "K" if you ask me, but after this post Chesed Dent will never struggle for a C-word again. After each word follows a brief argument for why each word applies to her; many of them could have numerous examples, but, then, this blog would take 30 years to read. I'll keep it short and sweet. At some points it may get a little bit odd, but, hey, 30 is a lot of adjectives that start with "C".
30 Words that Begin with the Letter "C" to celebrate Chesed Dent on her Thirtieth Birthday
(in no particular order)
1. Captivating- I've known Chesed for 10 1/2 years now, and I have seen her in many settings. Wherever she goes, my friend captures people's attention. Men, women, and children love to listen to her speak and sing. She has a presence that is hard to ignore.
2. Creative- Chesed often gives old things new life. She sews, paints, carves, and thinks things into fun and useful purposes.
3. Caring- When I was pregnant she often called to ask, Are you craving anything today? I'm out if you would like me to pick up something.
4. Casual- She is the only person I know who is very high maintenance but has everyone fooled into thinking she is very low maintenance. That's because she rocks a pair of blue jeans like no one else and is even beautiful while sporting a sweatshirt. She's just the kind of gal who wears casual well.
5. Conversational- This girl knows how to keep a conversation going. She is the queen of open-ended questions and she will not let you squirm out of the discussion.
6. Curvaceous-She's got that boom boom pow.
7. Candid- I don't think Chesed knows how to be anything other than straightforward. She says what she's thinking or what needs to be said.
8. Calm- Although she can be easily described as dramatic, my friend is not given to hysterics. She maintains a cool demeanor when things get crazy.
9. Colorful-She can wear 3 completely different colors in her hair and look good doing it. Who else could pull that off?
10. Confident- Sure, she has her insecurities; don't we all? But, what she does she does with steady hand and certainty.
11. Capable- in many areas: singing, leading, speaking, crafting, and so much more
12. Courteous- She doesn't have to like you to show kindness.
13. Charitable- Though she hasn't been in high-earning jobs over this last decade, to my knowledge she has never used that as an excuse to not give.
14. Charming- (see #1)
15. Chaste- She is a woman above reproach who holds others to as a high a standard as herself.
16. Cheerful- She doesn't dwell in negativity.
17. Chrestomathic (devoted to useful knowledge or learning) I believe Chesed is a lifelong learner. She will spend countless hours reading practical material and she loves to help others by sharing useful, solid teaching.
18. Conscientious- She sees things through in the most correct way possible.
19. Curly-topped- Don't fight the curl!!
20. Communicative- She communicates well, explains clearly, and clarifies what needs to be clarified.
21. Companionable- She's so friendly and easy to talk to that more people think she's their friend than she can count.
22. Competent- If I ask her to do something I know it will get done... no matter what.
23. Complimentary- On more than one occasion I have seen Chesed give compliments freely to strangers. "Excuse me, I just have to say, You are so beautiful!" Complimentary.
24. Consistent- I can always count on her to pray, to help me out, and to listen.
25. Cool-headed- I can't actually recall ever having seen her express anger.
26. Cordial- She doesn't act too cool or too good.
27. Corny- The girl loves ABC Family movies. I can only take so many, but they make her smile.
28. Crafty- She has added flair to many a personal belonging, hand made gifts for every friend, and helped me brainstorm quite a few of my own creations.
29. Cultured- She absorbs a bit of every place she goes-beautifully.
30. Christian- You can't meet Chesed and be unsure of this fact.
G is for gallivant
LifLG says:
gallivant (GAL-ih-vant) verb
to travel around for pleasure; usually used in a negative way to accuse someone of being irresponsible, as in "While you were out gallivanting, I was stuck here building this tandem bicycle by myself!"
The summer after my freshman year of college I worked on staff at Gulfshore Baptist Assembly in Pass Christian, MS. My crew was food services (Caf Staff, we called ourselves), and we alternated days with another crew because our days on we had to be the first ones working and the last ones off. Those days off embodied summer; we spent them sleeping in and napping, lounging in front of old movies, playing in the pool, and gallivanting around the MS Gulf Coast--and sometimes beyond. We would go shopping, exploring or just driving, windows down, along Highway 90 with its endless Gulf view (or so it seemed). We would suddenly be overcome with the urge to visit a friend in Mobile or eat dinner in Louisiana, and off we would go! I didn't save any money that summer though my expenses were few. I gained weight (from overeating and an excess of junk food) although there were plenty of ways to stay active. I made friends and kissed boys and played in the rain and ran barefoot on the beach in the night. It was a carefree summer, and I enjoyed every ounce of it.
gallivant (GAL-ih-vant) verb
to travel around for pleasure; usually used in a negative way to accuse someone of being irresponsible, as in "While you were out gallivanting, I was stuck here building this tandem bicycle by myself!"
The summer after my freshman year of college I worked on staff at Gulfshore Baptist Assembly in Pass Christian, MS. My crew was food services (Caf Staff, we called ourselves), and we alternated days with another crew because our days on we had to be the first ones working and the last ones off. Those days off embodied summer; we spent them sleeping in and napping, lounging in front of old movies, playing in the pool, and gallivanting around the MS Gulf Coast--and sometimes beyond. We would go shopping, exploring or just driving, windows down, along Highway 90 with its endless Gulf view (or so it seemed). We would suddenly be overcome with the urge to visit a friend in Mobile or eat dinner in Louisiana, and off we would go! I didn't save any money that summer though my expenses were few. I gained weight (from overeating and an excess of junk food) although there were plenty of ways to stay active. I made friends and kissed boys and played in the rain and ran barefoot on the beach in the night. It was a carefree summer, and I enjoyed every ounce of it.
Monday, January 14, 2013
F is for flummox
LifLG says:
flummox (FLUM-uks) verb
to confuse. Instead of saying, "I'm confused" or "Beats me," spice things up with "It's sure got me flummoxed!"
I am an ESL teacher, which, in my current job, translates to spending a lot of time offering support to my middle school students in the core subject areas (language arts, mathematics, sciences, and social studies). I spent a great deal of my college career studying in the areas of language and social studies; I even managed to spend 16 hours in science courses. Math, however, has never been my forte; in high school I took the minimum required credits, and in college I was the only person I know who slipped through with no College Algebra class. When my students bring math homework to my room with questions I usually have to spend some time studying the assignment before I say anything. Occasionally, I even pull out a text book for further research. There are times, unfortunately, when I am totally flummoxed and have to call in a math-teaching colleague for help. No sore ego here, I have long accepted my weakness and openly admit to my students that math is not a subject I enjoy. All that said, I make it clear that I never failed a math class because regardless of my feelings or how much it might flummox me, I never quit trying!
flummox (FLUM-uks) verb
to confuse. Instead of saying, "I'm confused" or "Beats me," spice things up with "It's sure got me flummoxed!"
I am an ESL teacher, which, in my current job, translates to spending a lot of time offering support to my middle school students in the core subject areas (language arts, mathematics, sciences, and social studies). I spent a great deal of my college career studying in the areas of language and social studies; I even managed to spend 16 hours in science courses. Math, however, has never been my forte; in high school I took the minimum required credits, and in college I was the only person I know who slipped through with no College Algebra class. When my students bring math homework to my room with questions I usually have to spend some time studying the assignment before I say anything. Occasionally, I even pull out a text book for further research. There are times, unfortunately, when I am totally flummoxed and have to call in a math-teaching colleague for help. No sore ego here, I have long accepted my weakness and openly admit to my students that math is not a subject I enjoy. All that said, I make it clear that I never failed a math class because regardless of my feelings or how much it might flummox me, I never quit trying!
Sunday, January 13, 2013
E is for egads!
LifLG says:
egads! (ee-GADZ) interjection
not a swearword, but something better than "Gosh!" or "Darn it!" to say when you're excited, shocked, or creeped out.
When my "water broke", roughly 13 hours before William was born, there was a lot of it. . . as in, every time I stood up or moved or had a contraction for the next hour the nurses had to run for more towels. Even my medical team seemed taken aback by the amount. One nurse exclaimed, "Egads! I've never seen so much amniotic fluid!"
egads! (ee-GADZ) interjection
not a swearword, but something better than "Gosh!" or "Darn it!" to say when you're excited, shocked, or creeped out.
LifLG also offers these other interjections and exclamations "for other things you can shout when you stub your toe or get locked out of your house wearing only your underwear": Gadzooks! Blimey! Bust my buttons! By Jove! Crikey! Criminy! Curses! Dagnabit! For crying out loud! For goodness' sake! Gee whillikers! Gee whiz! Geez Louise! Goodness gracious! Good night nurse! Goody gumdrops! Great Scott! Heavens to Betsy! Holy cow! Holy mackerel! Holy moly! Holy Toledo! Hot diggety dog! Huzzah! Jeepers! Jiminy Cricket! Jinkies! Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! Land's sakes! Leapin' lizards! Pshaw! Sake's alive! What in Sam Hill?! What in tarnation?! What the devil?! Whoa Nellie! Yikes! Yowza! Zoinks! (p 32)
When my "water broke", roughly 13 hours before William was born, there was a lot of it. . . as in, every time I stood up or moved or had a contraction for the next hour the nurses had to run for more towels. Even my medical team seemed taken aback by the amount. One nurse exclaimed, "Egads! I've never seen so much amniotic fluid!"
Saturday, January 12, 2013
D is for druthers
LifLG says:
druthers (DRUH-therz) noun
a choice that's completely unrestricted, as in "If I had my druthers, I would run away and join the circus." The spelling comes from combining the words would and rather.
D is fordalliance druthers
Our little family slept late this morning, ate brunch at IHOP, then spent the rest of our day out shopping. By the time we got home, unloaded groceries, put the baby to bed, and ate sandwiches I realized it was nearly 10PM. I opened my computer and clicked on the link to my blog thinking I'd make it short and sweet. Looking at the word for today--dalliance--I thought, Ugh... that requires a good story. If I had my druthers, I would pick a different word. So, I opened up L is for LollyGag, and you witness here my druthers.
druthers (DRUH-therz) noun
a choice that's completely unrestricted, as in "If I had my druthers, I would run away and join the circus." The spelling comes from combining the words would and rather.
D is for
Our little family slept late this morning, ate brunch at IHOP, then spent the rest of our day out shopping. By the time we got home, unloaded groceries, put the baby to bed, and ate sandwiches I realized it was nearly 10PM. I opened my computer and clicked on the link to my blog thinking I'd make it short and sweet. Looking at the word for today--dalliance--I thought, Ugh... that requires a good story. If I had my druthers, I would pick a different word. So, I opened up L is for LollyGag, and you witness here my druthers.
Friday, January 11, 2013
C is for cacophony
LifLG says:
cacophony (kuh-KOFF-uh-nee) noun
a horrible mixture of sounds, such as the mixture of a vacuum cleaner, a phone ringing, and a baby crying. It's the kind of din that makes grown-ups ask, "Can you keep it down to a dull roar?"
I'm not tall. I never have been. More often than not I have to reach up, stand on the tips of my toes, and climb on things to get stuff. I stand on furniture, I use whatever is handy to knock things down, I am resourceful. Sometimes things don't go smoothly. To add to my lack of height, I am clumsy. So, what happens when a klutzy, petite woman becomes eight months pregnant and reaches to the top of a cabinet to put plates away? Plastic bowls bounce off cabinets. Saucers crash against the microwave. Plates crunch against the counter and floor. Items in the way clatter against the stove. Said woman jumps back with a yelp and a thump. In short, cacophony.
cacophony (kuh-KOFF-uh-nee) noun
a horrible mixture of sounds, such as the mixture of a vacuum cleaner, a phone ringing, and a baby crying. It's the kind of din that makes grown-ups ask, "Can you keep it down to a dull roar?"
I'm not tall. I never have been. More often than not I have to reach up, stand on the tips of my toes, and climb on things to get stuff. I stand on furniture, I use whatever is handy to knock things down, I am resourceful. Sometimes things don't go smoothly. To add to my lack of height, I am clumsy. So, what happens when a klutzy, petite woman becomes eight months pregnant and reaches to the top of a cabinet to put plates away? Plastic bowls bounce off cabinets. Saucers crash against the microwave. Plates crunch against the counter and floor. Items in the way clatter against the stove. Said woman jumps back with a yelp and a thump. In short, cacophony.
B is for balderdash
LifLG says:
balderdash (boll-der-dash) noun
nonsense or exaggeration. If your friend says, "I can run a mile in under three and a half minutes," you should respond, "Balderdash!" (since you know full well that Hicham El Guerrouj of Morocco ran the fastest mile ever--just over three minutes and 43 seconds--in Rome on July 7, 1999). See also codswallop, hogwash, and malarkey.
Today felt like a Monday.... until it felt like no other day. As I scurried toward my classroom, late and hoping no one would notice, I was crestfallen to discover my principal standing just outside my door. My mind started whirring, "What would I say?" Had the infant-at-home-keeps-me-up-all-night line become tired? Should I mention the construction traffic detour blocking my regular route to work? While attempting to string together something believable that didn't sound rehearsed I stole a glance only to realize that her expression was not what I was expecting. It seemed almost... sympathetic.
"Oh, Mrs. Wallace, there you are. Come here, come in quickly." It was only then I realized she'd been holding the door only fractionally ajar and blocking the space the best she could with her petite frame. She ushered me into the room, looking over her shoulder as she closed the door. The sight that met my eyes was one I never anticipated. There, scrawled across the wall of my classroom in dripping red letters was the most ominous string of words I'd ever seen. Below, the desks and once neatly-sorted materials were in a state that denoted vandalism, maybe theft. Before I had time to process what I was seeing she began explaining her plan of action. (Principals love to create action plans.)
"So, it has already been announced that your classes will be meeting in the computer lab in 306. You have a little time to adjust your plans for the day. Students don't need to know anything happened. Mr. Montgomery will need to come in here and clean, but of course he'll need to wait until the police have finished. Though, we're going to have to be careful to avoid drawing attention..."
My head was spinning. Did she really expect me to possess clarity at that moment? Instead of absorbing her instructions, my mind was racing. I nodded, collected my lesson plan notebook and a few books-I'm not sure I even knew which they were-and I began shuffling toward the computer lab to which she had directed me. The clamor of doors and footsteps began to fill the hall just as I flipped the light switch, but I was lost inside my own thoughts. One by one my students arrived, turning on computers and firing off the normal questions and complaints: Can I go to CoolMath? What are we doing? Why are we here? Why can't we have free time?! Do we have to do Academy of Reading? I need to do a project.
I carefully scanned their faces, wondering if they knew, wondering if it was possible that any of them could be responsible. After quietly, firmly instructing my students to log in to the Academy of Reading program they were already quite familiar with, I paced furtive circles around them, hoping they wouldn't notice that I was somewhere else and at the same time trying to be on alert for any signs that they held knowledge I did not.
The periods blurred together. I ate lunch alone in the teacher's lounge, which is really only a couple of vending machines that rarely work sitting outside of a single, unisex bathroom; I didn't want to discuss it, and, anyway, I didn't know what to say. The day was long, but when the bell sounded for dismissal I stared at the clock, surprised that the day was over. I had somehow managed to avoid any discussion of
balderdash (boll-der-dash) noun
nonsense or exaggeration. If your friend says, "I can run a mile in under three and a half minutes," you should respond, "Balderdash!" (since you know full well that Hicham El Guerrouj of Morocco ran the fastest mile ever--just over three minutes and 43 seconds--in Rome on July 7, 1999). See also codswallop, hogwash, and malarkey.
Today felt like a Monday.... until it felt like no other day. As I scurried toward my classroom, late and hoping no one would notice, I was crestfallen to discover my principal standing just outside my door. My mind started whirring, "What would I say?" Had the infant-at-home-keeps-me-up-all-night line become tired? Should I mention the construction traffic detour blocking my regular route to work? While attempting to string together something believable that didn't sound rehearsed I stole a glance only to realize that her expression was not what I was expecting. It seemed almost... sympathetic.
"Oh, Mrs. Wallace, there you are. Come here, come in quickly." It was only then I realized she'd been holding the door only fractionally ajar and blocking the space the best she could with her petite frame. She ushered me into the room, looking over her shoulder as she closed the door. The sight that met my eyes was one I never anticipated. There, scrawled across the wall of my classroom in dripping red letters was the most ominous string of words I'd ever seen. Below, the desks and once neatly-sorted materials were in a state that denoted vandalism, maybe theft. Before I had time to process what I was seeing she began explaining her plan of action. (Principals love to create action plans.)
"So, it has already been announced that your classes will be meeting in the computer lab in 306. You have a little time to adjust your plans for the day. Students don't need to know anything happened. Mr. Montgomery will need to come in here and clean, but of course he'll need to wait until the police have finished. Though, we're going to have to be careful to avoid drawing attention..."
My head was spinning. Did she really expect me to possess clarity at that moment? Instead of absorbing her instructions, my mind was racing. I nodded, collected my lesson plan notebook and a few books-I'm not sure I even knew which they were-and I began shuffling toward the computer lab to which she had directed me. The clamor of doors and footsteps began to fill the hall just as I flipped the light switch, but I was lost inside my own thoughts. One by one my students arrived, turning on computers and firing off the normal questions and complaints: Can I go to CoolMath? What are we doing? Why are we here? Why can't we have free time?! Do we have to do Academy of Reading? I need to do a project.
I carefully scanned their faces, wondering if they knew, wondering if it was possible that any of them could be responsible. After quietly, firmly instructing my students to log in to the Academy of Reading program they were already quite familiar with, I paced furtive circles around them, hoping they wouldn't notice that I was somewhere else and at the same time trying to be on alert for any signs that they held knowledge I did not.
The periods blurred together. I ate lunch alone in the teacher's lounge, which is really only a couple of vending machines that rarely work sitting outside of a single, unisex bathroom; I didn't want to discuss it, and, anyway, I didn't know what to say. The day was long, but when the bell sounded for dismissal I stared at the clock, surprised that the day was over. I had somehow managed to avoid any discussion of
b a l d e r d a s h !
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
A is for abscond
LifLG says:
abscond (ab-SKOND) verb
to disappear suddenly and secretly, usually to avoid getting in trouble. A person who absconds is an absconder.
It was my third year of teaching. Just after dismissal one day I quickly crossed the hall, leaving my door open, to use the restroom. Most any time I left my classroom I locked the door, but this particular day I was in a hurry and, seeing as there were no students in my building at that time of the day, I didn't think there was any need to put forth the effort. Returning to my room, I looked around for my phone. It didn't take long for me to realize it was missing. I hurriedly began to check all of the places I imagined it might have been left as I rushed to a phone to inform my husband, who also worked for the district, that it was missing. Being the tech-clever fellow that he is Matt popped out his own phone, used the Find My iPhone app to determine that my phone was still nearby, and called the school resource officer for backup. They knew some mischievous student must have absconded with my phone and that there was no time to lose.
These two knights in shining armor jumped into the officer's car, followed the GPS signal to the spot where a school bus was waiting for high school students to load, and climbed aboard. At this fortuitous time Matt chose to enable the alert function of the Find My iPhone app, which causes the phone to emit a loud, obnoxious chime until the phone is unlocked. The nervous absconder tried to play it cool as the two men, each over six feet tall, approached his seat on the bus. "Where's the phone?" the officer boomed. The young thief tried to pretend he did not know what they were after, but the oh-so-odious tell-tale beep exploding from his pocket soon became undeniable.
And that is the story of how my phone and its thief absconded and were subsequently returned.
abscond (ab-SKOND) verb
to disappear suddenly and secretly, usually to avoid getting in trouble. A person who absconds is an absconder.
It was my third year of teaching. Just after dismissal one day I quickly crossed the hall, leaving my door open, to use the restroom. Most any time I left my classroom I locked the door, but this particular day I was in a hurry and, seeing as there were no students in my building at that time of the day, I didn't think there was any need to put forth the effort. Returning to my room, I looked around for my phone. It didn't take long for me to realize it was missing. I hurriedly began to check all of the places I imagined it might have been left as I rushed to a phone to inform my husband, who also worked for the district, that it was missing. Being the tech-clever fellow that he is Matt popped out his own phone, used the Find My iPhone app to determine that my phone was still nearby, and called the school resource officer for backup. They knew some mischievous student must have absconded with my phone and that there was no time to lose.
These two knights in shining armor jumped into the officer's car, followed the GPS signal to the spot where a school bus was waiting for high school students to load, and climbed aboard. At this fortuitous time Matt chose to enable the alert function of the Find My iPhone app, which causes the phone to emit a loud, obnoxious chime until the phone is unlocked. The nervous absconder tried to play it cool as the two men, each over six feet tall, approached his seat on the bus. "Where's the phone?" the officer boomed. The young thief tried to pretend he did not know what they were after, but the oh-so-odious tell-tale beep exploding from his pocket soon became undeniable.
And that is the story of how my phone and its thief absconded and were subsequently returned.
I is for Improvement
I've tried to blog when I feel inspired, but the truth is unless something is a part of my regular routine I am horribly inconsistent. Someone once told me that it takes 21 days to create a habit. So, armed with that suggestion and a new book from the library, I have decided to task myself with a DAILY blog. My prediction is that having an assignment will lead me to produce significantly more content than waiting for inspiration to line up with the mood to write and the time to get it done.
Therefore, I am going to start by posting at least once a day for the month of January (26 posts-one for each letter of the alphabet). Each day's offering will be an anecdote to accompany a word from Chronicle Books' L is for LollyGag, starting with A and ending with Z. Ideally, I won't only traverse the alphabet monthly this year, I will improve my blog-writing skills and consistency altogether. We'll see what happens. Cross your fingers!
Therefore, I am going to start by posting at least once a day for the month of January (26 posts-one for each letter of the alphabet). Each day's offering will be an anecdote to accompany a word from Chronicle Books' L is for LollyGag, starting with A and ending with Z. Ideally, I won't only traverse the alphabet monthly this year, I will improve my blog-writing skills and consistency altogether. We'll see what happens. Cross your fingers!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)