more "old" favorites

For today's "Tuesdays Gone" hop I thought I'd resurrect some stories of me and Grandpa and our hearing prob- I mean, opportunities...

Prologue:  Fun with my private student N:
Today I received outside confirmation that my trouble understanding Grandpa's speech is not entirely due to him. After my lesson with N. ended, he and his younger brother L. told me they were taking out a tree. What? Why? I wondered. And why do I care? But instead I used my great linguistic ability and said a more concise, "What?" "We're taking out a tree!" both boys said. "We're shooting!" L. added. I'm thinking, WHY are you cutting down a tree...it's too early for Christmas, isn't it?.....yes.....and HOW on earth are you going to get it down by shooting it? With an Uzi? What is wrong with you people?! Rather than confuse them with all my questions I modeled excellent verbal expression and scrunched up my face and said, "Huh?" Then L. lifted up his bow and N. said slowly, as if speaking to a....well, to me, "We're taking AR-CHER-Y!"


Fun with Grandpa:
My dad's dad is a 92-year-old, charming, sweetheart of a man whose picture is in the dictionary under "ornery". He's currently living with my parents, and on Sunday mornings I hang out with him, which has turned out to be a great time for both of us (or so he says). A few weeks ago, he had trouble reading the soap-opera-type comic he likes to keep up with, so he asked me to read it to him. Grandpa is a bit hard of hearing, although there is suspicion among some family members that his hearing problem is selective or he is just plain faking it. Anyway, I made the mistake of not pre-reading the comic, in which two guys were talking. So what came out of my mouth at full volume was something like this:

"HEY, JOE. HOW'S MIKE? I HEARD HE'S IN JAIL AGAIN."
"YEAH. I HAVEN'T GONE TO SEE HIM YET."
"I HEARD VALERIE WENT TO VISIT HIM."
"YEAH. SHE STAYED 45 MINUTES, AND WHEN SHE LEFT MIKE HAD A BIG SMILE ON HIS FACE."

(Silence.) (Crickets chirping.) If you've never hollered at a grandparent about conjugal visits, I highly recommend it.

Today when I went into Grandpa's room/space at Mom & Dad's house, I was a bit groggy from a fitful night's sleep. Grandpa was extra perky. "That," he said, pointing to his book of word search puzzles, "almost fell out of bed." Grandpa likes to tell silly jokes, so I thought this was one of them. "It did?" I said. "How?"
"Huh?" Grandpa said.
I put the book on his tv tray. "Are you still working on #10?"
"Yeah. Can you count that high?" (giggles)
"Ha ha." I shove Grandpa and open the book to puzzle #10 and point to it, "So how did this almost fall out of bed?"
"Huh?...No, this," he said, holding up his mechanical pencil, "is almost out of lead!" My brain's so big it clogs up my ears. It's fun to make a non-senile elderly person wonder if he's becoming senile (eye roll).


The other day as I walked into Grandpa's I heard Dad say to him, "Kerri will get your pills." Dad left and a few minutes later Grandpa told me, "I need my pills." I was a bit confused, because he usually has his pills with breakfast.
"You need your pills?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Have you had your breakfast?"
"Huh?" (confused look on Grandpa's face now, too)
"You usually have your pills with breakfast. Have you had your breakfast?"
"Yeah, I had my breakfast," he said, still confused.
"Well, did you have your pills with it like usual? I don't understand what pills Dad was talking about."
"I need my PIL-LOWS," Grandpa said. Poor man.

Today he needed a paper clip. "Do you have some in your desk?" I asked, walking over to his desk/secretary - like a roll-top desk but not rounded.
"Yes, on the right side."
I looked around and eventually found them in a small jar on the left side. I took out a paper clip (but Grandpa didn't see that), held the jar up, and said, "Do you want me to put them back where I found them or where you thought they were?" (We can be very Type-A.)
"Huh? No, I need a clip."
"Yes, but do you want me to put the rest of them back here, or here?" I said, pointing.
"No! I want to clip these two papers together." (an article onto a piece of white paper)
"Yes, but what about the rest of the paper clips?"
Chuckling, but also trying very hard to remain patient with me, Grandpa said slowly and clearly, "PICK. UP. THE. JAR. AND. WALK. OVER. HERE. AND. PUT. THE. JAR. DOWN. HERE. PLEASE," as he pointed to a tray by his chair.
I laughed and said in the same way, "I. KNOW. I. GOT. THE. CLIP." I showed it to him and put it on his tray. "I'M. TALKING. ABOUT. THE. JAR," I said, holding it up.
By then we were both laughing, and I don't know where they ended up.

He clipped the papers together, then he asked me to cut off the extra white paper around the margins. (See? Type A.) He said, half-serious/half-teasing, "DON'T. CUT. THE. ARTICLE. IN. HALF. CUT HERE," he said, pointing, "AROUND. THE. ARTICLE."
"I'm going to go get the scissors and bring them here so you can watch me cut it."
Grandpa smiled, sighed with relief, and said, "Yes."
I returned with the scissors, picked up the article, and pretended I was about to cut it in half.
"No!!!!!!!!!!!"

We keep each other mentally fit.

three picture books

This summer I'm tutoring a young cousin in basic pre-reading skills - letter identification, phonics, etc.  I bookended our first lesson (aren't I clever to use a pun?  eye roll) with these first two books:

Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by Bill Martin, Jr. and John Archambault

Illustrated by Lois Ehlert

What's not to love about Chicka Chicka Boom Boom?   Fun story, witty writing such as "black-eyed p," rhymes, and a meter you can't help but bounce and read along to.   My cousin A. liked the mommy and daddy letters taking care of their children when they all fell out of the coconut tree.   Chicka Chicka Boom Boom!

The Preposterous Rhinoceros by Robert Bender

I found this book in a used bookstore.  I was especially pleased to see it uses some of the same rhymes we work on in tutoring: snake/cake, goat/boat, mouse/house, etc., which makes it a great companion to that lesson.  Using the pictures as cues, the child can complete the rhyme:  "...and a goat in a..."  "Coat!"  This book can also be used to develop comprehension, fact/fiction, and prediction.  "Why is Alvin sad?"  "Do toads really drive cars?"  "What do you think might happen when Alvin goes outside?"

Tumble Bumble by Felicia Bond

I think I found this book in a used bookstore, too - that's where I get most of my books.  I read this to A. at the end of our second session.  The animals in this book have an adventure which is told in rhyme.  The rhymes are not always in a regular, predictable meter, which gives the child a greater challenge ("a crocodile smile," for example).

picture book challenge

A challenge that involves reading picture books to children?  I'm SO in!

See http://www.theresabook.com/read-to-me-picture-book-reading-challenge/ for details.  I will be reading with a child, probably at the "Watering" level.  I read a variety of books, including picture books, to my private tutoring students.  I look forward to seeing others' entries and discovering some great new books!

babysitting tips for sloths, part 2

Along with television, I've discovered another way to keep kids occupied with as little effort as possible:

1.  Take big purse full of books, receipts, cards, money, etc. to child's house.
2.  Place big purse tantalizingly where the child can see it but it is supposedly out of the way.
3.  Allow child to carefully approach purse; watch for danger but otherwise pretend oblivion (unless it comes naturally to you).
4.  Help child lug ten-ton purse to large floor space.
5.  Continue watching for danger to child and personal items, and allow child to explore to her heart's content!
6.  Take pictures with your camera phone to commemorate the event (except when child is monopolizing the phone).

W: Whirling dervishes

From Ya-Yas in Bloom by Rebecca Wells:
"The girls spun round and round and round the ice cream parlor, scarves in their hands, between their teeth, wrapped around their fingers like scarf rings. They did not dance madly, like Mehnaz from some Greek tragedy, but like muses: graceful and ready to inspire. The spark that lived in all of them rejoiced when they turned in circles, little whirling wild spirits, like junior priestesses of some undomesticated tribe. They went somewhere else as they spun, into a trance of dizziness, as if they were praying. It looked as if they were bad little girls acting like wild sprites, and some of the folks in the ice cream parlor thought them rude and uncouth, but that is only because these townspeople did not know about whirling dervishes and what happens when they dance and pray, pray and dance. They did not know that dance can become prayer, and prayer can become dance."

I'm so blessed to have some whirling dervishes in my life who draw me into the dance (especially one who loves to wear her cowboy boots with anything, including multi-colored striped tights):

running with Barbie coatracks

When I was about 5, I played with Barbie.  (Back in the old days, children, she was just called "Barbie."  Not "Nurse Barbie" or "Malibu Barbie" or "Fairy Princess Barbie."  Maybe that's why I get grumpy sometimes.)  I didn't play with them for long; my stupid-little-brother-with-a-doctorate ended up playing with my dolls, which just goes to show...never mind.  There was a period when I was about 12 that my cousins, brother (told you) and I had a LOT of fun building Barbie houses out of cardboard boxes - so much fun that we never got around to playing with them.  But this has to do with a memory from when I was 5.  I was running with a wire coatrack made to hang Barbie clothes on, because everything you do at that age is vitally important and you must get there quickly, when my mom called out, "Don't run with that!"  Huh?  I slowed down, and when I came to a stop I looked at the coatrack.  It was the only thing I was carrying, so it must have been what mom was talking about.  Why not run with it?  Do good little girls not run with coatracks?  Why?  I was clueless.

I was reminded of that episode the other day.  N's dad was talking to me, but I only caught the first part of the conversation because the back of a blond head kept popping up and down behind the dad's head.  I tried to focus, but then I caught the glint of metal.  I looked more closely at N. and saw that he was trying to pop his brother's helium-filled birthday balloon with a long kitchen knife.  And it wasn't the bread knife, it was the long, pointy one.  Yeah, that one.  I started laughing and couldn't stop (heck, he's not my kid).  Seeing this generally happy, sweet boy jump up and down with a large knife trying to pop his brother's balloon while I had his dad's attention really tickled me.  (In case you don't know I'm not a monster, N. is 11 and is an accomplished equestrian with excellent balance and motor skills.  I wasn't worried.)

(When I don't draw legs that means we're sitting.  I am a bit artistically challenged.)

Nick never did pop the balloon, though.  Or maim himself.  So the moral of this story is don't run with coatracks or jump with knives unless you are athletic and my mom isn't there.  You're welcome.

"The Mom Pledge"

I am not a mom.  But I am very fond of quite a few.  In addition, I am an auntie, a teacher, a tutor, and a friend to a number of children.  The Mom Pledge at http://www.efloraross.com/ is an online community centered around stopping online bullying of moms by other moms.  I share their message here in order to show my own support and to help spread the word.  Go, moms!

feeeelings, whoa whoa whoa feeeelings...

I've discovered evidence that may prove that most males' discomfort with talking about their (or anyone else's) feelings is ingrained into their DNA.  One day, at the end of a visit with my friend Ben, who was 3 at the time, I held him and looked into his eyes and told him I loved him and loved spending time with him.  Immediately, a look of yikes/ewww/I gotta' get out of here came over Ben's face, and he shrank away from me and changed the subject back to Legos.

Then one day I took his older brother Sam, age 7, to school, and as we walked toward the building together I told him I really enjoyed the days I took him to school and the time we spent time together.  Sam responded, "Brr, it's cold out here."

That's okay, boys.  As long as you guys still talk to me when you're teenagers, I can deal with it.  :)

babysitting for sloths

1.  Turn on child's favorite TV show.
2.  Put child's favorite chair in favorite spot in front of TV.
3.  Kick back and relax!

"A happy child is a well-cared-for child."   me (the sloth)

the happy boys and the grumpy witch: a cautionary tale

Usually I'm like a kid myself when I'm with kids.  Even when I'm in full-blown Teacher Kerri or Auntie Kerri mode, I joke around a lot and can act just as immature as they can.  But yesterday I was a bit irritable all day - who knows the reason, take your pick - I don't need one - and the weather seemed to fit my mood: misty/drizzly, just above freezing, not sure if it wanted to snow, sleet, or do nothing.  Traffic on the way to my student's, N., and his brother's, L., school didn't help, and by the time I arrived to pick them up I was...not mad, not super-crabby, but like the day, just spitting some grouchiness.  Pissy.  Grr.

I was at the end of the row of cars filing past the school to pick up kids, and as I slowly pulled closer to the school I looked for the boys but couldn't see them.  Grr.  Soon I was at the front of the school and there were no more children outside, and the teachers turned around and went back inside.  Grr-wait, what?  I waited and watched for a couple of minutes, then parked and called the boys' mom, my eyes glued to the school entrance.  The boys' dad answered.  "I'm at the school," I said, "and I don't see the boys.  Did you guys pick them up?"  Every parent's dream phone call, just after the one in the middle of the night.  Fortunately, this family is very laid-back.  "No...," Dad said.  "Sometimes it takes them several minutes to get outside."  "Okay," I said, "I'll go check inside."  At this point three possibilities have occurred to me:  1- Dad is clueless.  2- the boys have been abducted.  3- the boys are still inside.  N. and L. are too old and too smart to just get in a car with a stranger, so I tossed possibility #2 from my mind as I walked toward the entrance.  Grr.  A few seconds later, two very familiar blond heads bobbed out the school door.  I smiled at them, but lifted my arms up and out to the side in the classic "What the heck?!" gesture.  They smiled back and said, "We were waiting inside!"  Really?  No kidding.  "My teacher didn't want us to get wet," N. said.  "Actually," he continued, "she doesn't like to get wet."  Uh huh.  Well I love it; be sure to thank her.  I called their dad and said I'd found them, then I said the boys were turkeys and made arrangements to meet Mom and Dad to drop the boys off.  N. and his family live 15-ish miles from the school; on tutoring days I usually pick up the boys, drive them home, tutor N., then they feed me.  I also get some quality moments with their dogs.  It's been a great arrangement.  But it was getting colder outside and the weather looked like it had decided to snow after all, why should the northeastern part of the country have all the fun, and the boys' parents were only a few miles away at that time, and I had decided I didn't want to make the slick drive home in the dark later.  So Dad and I arranged to meet at a grocery store a few miles away.

I wasn't familiar with the store's location, so I asked N's dad what intersection it was on.  Oh.  Turns out I've driven past it every time I've taken the boys home.  I knew that.  The road I take to N's house, the one the store is on, is a highway that runs through the southern end of town, with a few stoplights and a 55 mph speed limit in this particular area.  We began tootling down the road when I noticed the "door open" light was on.  I looked back at N's door and realized it sounded windier than usual back there.  "I don't think my door's shut all the way," N. said.  "Me neither," I said, and pulled over so we could stop and he could shut the door.  That didn't bother me, but we missed a green light as a result, so it goes with the story.  We eventually resumed our trip, the boys talking and laughing with each other and N. humming a pop song he got stuck in my head the last time I saw him.  I joking yelled, "AAUUGGGHHH!!!  You are no longer allowed to sing that song!!!" and N. laughed and sang louder.  As N. sang, the boys worked on making rabbit shadow puppets with their hands, L. telling N. how to do it "right" and both of them discussing the pros and cons of bucked-tooth bunnies. 

I have never heard these boys fight with each other.  In fact, their whole family is like some kind of happy, mutant, laid-back pack of hyenas.  My niece, Maddie, is like that, too; so was Chester.  It can be really irritating.

As we approached the store's intersection, I asked the boys if the store was on the north or south side of the highway.  "I duh know," they said.  I asked if it was on the left or right.  "I duh know."  I took a chance on it being north, since most of the state is north of this highway, and as I was slowing down in the left-turn lane I glanced right (south) and saw that I was wrong.  The store was on the south side.  L. saw it, too.  "It's over there!" he said.  "Why are you turning left?"  "Thanks a lot!" I said.  As we began to move forward and turn, my phone rang.  I tossed it into the back seat and told N. to tell his mother that I am a nincompoop, they (N. and L.) are nincompoops, and we are across the street and on our way.  N's mom told N. where they were in the store's big parking lot.  While N. was on the phone I turned into a parking lot which I assumed had an exit on the other side where I could pull back onto the highway in the other direction.  I drove through the parking lot and couldn't find the exit.  "AAUUGGHH!!!  THIS LOT HAS NO EXIT!!!"  I yelled in my half-joking, half-I've-had-it voice.  "Aauugghh!!!" L. yelled in sympathy.  N. laughed and told his mom.  Then L. and I found the exit at the same time.  "There it is!" he said. I pulled onto the highway and into that left-turn lane, and N. hung up.  As I slowed the car for our 2nd red light at that intersection, L. said, "Kerri, try to make a rabbit."  Oooh, bunnies!  I was pleasantly distracted for a moment, L. coaching me on hand formation.  Then the light turned green and I resumed driving.  L. kept telling me to make bunnies.  "I'm a little busy right now!" I said.  The boys laughed.  I asked N, "Which door did your mom say they'd be at?"
"I duh know."
"Which car are they driving?"
"I duh know."
"Are they closer to the store's entrance or to where we're pulling in?"
"I duh know."
"Are you kidding me?!  You just talked to her!"
"I don't remember..."

Fortunately, I'd heard enough of Mom's call to get us within frantic waving distance.  Correct that - laid-back "Hey dude" throw-up-a-hand distance.  I parked the car, got out with the boys, and told the parents they were welcome to take back their children.  (I also remembered to get N's cello out of the trunk - bonus points for me.)  "Were they a pain?" Dad smiled and asked.  "Nah, I'm just kidding," I said and hugged Nick.  L. said happily, "Kerri was late!"
"I was not!" I shot back.  "I was there all the time!  I was just at the end of the line!"
L. and N. both commented, "She went the wrong way!"
"You didn't know where the store was, either!"
"She got lost in the parking lot!"
"The exit wasn't where it was supposed to be!"
The boys went on, the whole hyena pack grinning and/or laughing, until I was compelled to say, "'Where's the store?'  'I duh know.'  'Which door?'  'I duh know.'  'Where are they in the lot?'  'I duh knoooooooowwwwwwww,' I said as I mimicked the boys, all vestiges of mature adulthood melting away.

Eventually we said goodbye and I drove home, that dang pop song looping through my head.  Maybe next time I pick up the boys I'll wear a goofy wig and stand on my car and shout N's name as loud as I can until they're in the car.

"An Exceptional View of Life"

(Why is it that when you pack books, you look at all the filled boxes with a sense of satisfaction, then turn around and see that the bookshelf still looks full?!)

My friend Kristin wished me happy treasure hunting as I pack up my stuff.  I told her I'd been through this stuff so much there weren't any surprises left.  I was wrong!  The most recent treasure is a book written and illustrated by children with disabilities, published in 1977, with the title quoted above.  Here are some quotes from the book:

"One time I had a thought that Jesus came down with all the angels and healed everybody on the whole earth. I don't believe that will really happen. But I feel that everybody who is handicapped is doing a favor for God. If I'm going by on the sidewalk and they walk by with their problems, they look at me and they won't have anymore problems because they're better off than I am. I don't think they are as lucky as I am because I try more. They can do anything just like that. But when I'm doing anything, I appreciate it more."

"Now I know why it happened. God wanted it to. It made me appreciate life more."

"People stare at me a lot and wonder why that happened to that certain person.  I ask myself that a lot sometimes, too.  God wanted me to be like this, I guess."

"I like it when you go out camping in the woods and you just have a tent....I'm not used to the quietness because we have ten people in our family.  When I'm camping and I go off by myself, I think how pretty everything is and that it's just good to be alive."

"I like camping out because you get all dirty...."

"I like to look outside on rainy days - watching the raindrops fall - plop, plop, plop.  Suddenly the plops go faster and faster.  I get tired.  The raindrops get slower and the last raindrop comes down.  Then the clouds go away.  I hate rain clouds to part.  I feel the drops and plops."

"I like my brother.  He is always tickling and telling jokes.  Every time he does something so funny, it makes me happy....When he's telling a whole bunch of jokes and I'm telling them back, it's feeling like I'm all filled up with laughter inside.  He's got some goodies.  I don't know where he gets 'em, but I'd sure like to find that place."

"A thing that used to bother me the most was being in a wheelchair.  But...that doesn't bother me anymore.  I've gotten adjusted to sitting in this thing and I realize this has enabled me to do things that nobody else can do - to think more about things."

"What I like about Easter Seals is...they want you to go out by yourself. I appreciate people that try to help me. But sometimes they want to help too much....I like them to treat me like any other kid running around - just like a regular kid."

"There's two favorite places I like to go - to the store with my mom - and I like to go on picnics with her.  There's two more favorite places.  I like to go to my grandmother's with mom.  I like to get out in the car with her.  When I go shopping with her I get the happiest feeling in the world.  I clean up the kitchen for her - play games with her.  I answer the phone for her.  She's not able to get around because she studies.  It makes me feel fine everytime she asks me to do something....I feel like I love her very much.  She thinks I'm a special daughter of hers."

"It's good to know that somebody loves you and that they care about you.  I think if someone cares about you, you want to help yourself more....It gives you a peaceful feeling inside.  It's a warm feeling.  It's important to have a good family - to have love for everybody.  To love yourself.  That's the most important thing, to love yourself and accept yourself for what you are.  If you can do that, you can accept anybody else."

"My mom likes flowers.  She knows how to grow them, but they only grow for me."

"At home I used to didn't get to do anything.  Once I asked my mother about helping her and she thought I might not be able to do it.  I said, 'Well, can I have a try at it.'  She gave me a chance to do it and I did it and she saw that it was good.  Then she gave me the opportunity to keep on doing it.  I fold the clothes and remind her of things.  She did a lot of things for me and I like to do things in return.  Before, all I got to do was watch.  I showed her I could even do it better than anyone else could.  Well, not at first.  Then, I got the hang of it, and I did it.  I like to clean the bathroom...the bathtub, the toilet, the sink and the mirror.  The only thing I didn't get to do was mop the floor because I might slip and fall down.  That's how I got to help around the house."

"It makes me feel good that I'm helping people.  When I was in the hospital, some people had nobody to see them.  I had lots of visitors.  That's why I felt more burdened to visit those people who were all alone.  They really need people to care for them.  I know how they feel with nobody there."

"When I moved here two years ago, I made a good friend.  She's a woman seventy-two or seventy-three.  She goes for a walk.  I just got my electric wheelchair.  When I went around the block I let her hold on the back of my wheelchair to help her walk.  It makes me feel good.  I avoid dips and puddles."

"Thinking I can do stuff by myself is a nice thought.  If I ever go to college, I'd have to be able to take care of myself.  It would be pretty funny for an eighteen-year-old boy not to be dressing himself.  It took me five weeks, five days a week of practice at the hospital to learn to dress myself....The staff there encouraged me.  They helped me.  It took a lot of time.  People had to keep me going.  At one time I almost quit because I couldn't reach to my feet to put my pants on.  Then it got easier as I practiced more....Opening a door is one of the things I'd like to try."

"I'm in the tenth grade at school.  I got straight A's the last five years.  To get into the high school I'm going to, I really had to fight because they said they did not allow anyone in wheelchairs.  One counselor said, 'It's against our policy.'  Some of my classrooms are upstairs....I really had to fight them.  Then I found out that another girl had gone there ten years ago.  How she got upstairs was really neat.  The football team - they made arrangements ahead of time - whenever she had classes upstairs they met and carried her up and down the stairs.  In the fourth grade I had the same fight.  Then, I was on crutches.  They said, 'You can't go because somebody might knock you over and hurt you.'  They said, 'Use a wheelchair.'  So I bought a wheelchair just to make them happy and never used it.  This year it was just the opposite.  They said they didn't allow wheelchairs.  Finally I just showed up at the beginning of the year and they had to let me go."

"I heard this one story about a girl who had cerebral palsy and she was in a restaurant.  Somebody came up and asked, 'Why are you in that wheelchair?'  The girl turned around and said, 'What wheelchair?'...That's the way I feel.  I know I'm in it but I don't consider myself handicapped.  You are what your mind thinks you are."

"I like to be around other kids because it makes me feel in place - normal, like other kids are.  I like music.  I play the guitar.  I like baseball.  I can play it if somebody holds me on the back.  I swing.  Usually, I have someone else run for me."

"Last Saturday my boyfriend came over.  I live in a house and he lives in the next house.  He took me out on a date.  He took me to the restaurant.  Then we drove to a movie and a pizza.  Then he walked me home.  He's twelve.  His name is Frank.  He's good looking.  I just like him.  I'm nine.  He takes care of me.  When we go out on a date, instead of having a big person to take care of me, he takes care of me.  When we go to the movie, if I fall out of the seat, he picks me up."

"This is my first year at Camp Harmon and I sure enjoy it.  I enjoy helping my counselors and, believe me, they need a lot of help.  When I get older I want to be either a movie star or a counselor.  I guess they are both similar."

"If someone has a fire and they're in danger, so they call the fireman.  I like those guys who play firemen.  They can help you when there's a fire in your house.  If my friend fell from the roof and I caught him, I'd be a hero.  But I'd never catch him, he's so heavy."

"I'm not old enough to play baseball or football.  I'm not eight, yet.  My mom told me when you start baseball, you aren't going to be able to run that fast because you had an operation.  I told mom I wouldn't need to run that fast.  When I play baseball, I'll just hit them out of the park.  Then I'll be able to walk."

"My name is Duncan. I was placed in Cabin 8 (at camp). The terror began that night. When Paul turned out the lights we began to yell and the terror began. The door swung open and suddenly Richard from Animal Farm came in with a pair of samurai swords. He started whacking the beds apart. He came to my bed. Of course, I wasn't frightened. I kicked the swords out of his hands. I picked them up and broke 'em over his head. He started crying and sucked his thumb. Then he chased me. I thought I'd better expose my true identity. My name is Duncan, the Bionic Man. I got out of my wheelchair and ran at him full force. Suddenly, my bionic arm fell off. I had to pick it up and glue it back on. It fell off again so I said, 'Forget it. It's only two million dollars down the drain.' Due to difficulties beyond our control this story will not be continued because the writer had to be taken to the funny farm."

fun moments 04/28/10

A Kindergartener proudly reading about a dozen consonant-vowel-consonant words to me - sounding them out and reading very carefully, then giggling when he read "but".


Three second-graders talking amongst themselves as they work on projects to give to school volunteers for Volunteer Apprecication Week:  "Who are these flowers for?"  "The help."  "I'm giving mine to Ms. X."  "No, she gets paid."  "She gets paid too much!"


Walking out into the hallway after my 1st-graders leave and seeing that one had given his carefully-made flowers, not to a volunteer, but to a cute little girl in his class.

I'm on the market 04/15/10

S, one of my 2nd-graders, has been asking me the past 2-3 weeks to give her a picture of me.  I kept putting her off, hoping she'd forget, but she didn't, so the other day I gave her one of me at J&A's house, B. on my lap, he and I are looking at my dominoes and Z. is next to us with his dominoes.  I assumed she was going to make me a card or something.  She never said what she was going to do.  Today, her classroom teacher told me she had put my pic on paper and drew a circle around it with lines coming from the center, like spokes on a wheel, and each line had a word or phrase:

"Miss Kerri"
"nice"
"sweet"
blah blah - I can't remember the others except:
"41 years old"
"needs a husband"

Now I'm waiting to see copies of the flyer posted all over school.

the joke's on me 03/30/10

There's got to be something to this beyond random circumstance....I'm reading (and loving) An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor.  She relates an anecdote of when she commented on the pictures in a church's stained-glass windows and the fact that Jesus had no body hair in them and shocked a very well-dressed, well-put-together woman.  I re-read that passage this a.m., then went to work.  I wore a long-sleeved eyelet shirt over a tank top.  One of my 2nd-graders asked me if the tank top was my pajamas.  I said no, it's a tank top, see, and pulled my outer shirt away from my shoulder so she could see the tank top strap (which was plenty wide enough and within school guidelines - really!).  She immediately yells, "Eww, you have hair on your underarms!"  I checked later to see how much of a sex/puberty education I had given them, and I had just shaved yesterday!!!  There was hardly anything there!  Dear Lord, please don't let these kids tell their parents what they do in my class....

This a.m. I was getting food at a Dillon's salad bar and the guy working there said I was his neatest customer.  I was confused for a second because we'd never met, then I realized he meant tidy, not cool.  :)  I laughed and said my parents would be so proud, then I called and left a message on Mom & Dad's phone, laughingly telling them what a good, well-trained girl I was.  Then I showed my underarm hair to 2nd-graders and later committed 2 traffic violations.  I must really crack God up.

unless you become like a little child... misc. dates

Yesterday when I was tutoring R. she was writing some letters in cursive, but since she's had a month off since summer school we're having to relearn some of them. She wrote a "p" that was a real mess. She backed up (she was writing on the sliding glass door) and said, "Ugh, that looks more like a dinosaur." So then she gave the dino some arms, legs, and claws, and as she was drawing she said to herself, "Who knew you could have so much fun writing p's?"

Today one of my 2nd-graders opened our lesson time by asking me why my fingers were so long.  "They're so long and skinny! It's creepy!"  One of the things I love about being 40+ is being able to enjoy my students' curiosity about my body without feeling bad.  She asked me if somebody stretched them when I was little.  "Yes," I replied deadpan, "when I was born my mom didn't like my fingers so she asked the doctor to stretch them out."  Looks of confusion, disgust, and fear on all 4 faces.  Then I grinned real big - they didn't get it.  "Really?! How?" etc. etc.  Then I winked real big - they still didn't get it.  So I told them I was KIDDING, I was just born this way, and the 2nd-grader joked, "Are you an alien?"  "Yes!" I replied.  "And now that you've guessed my secret I must get you!"  I got out of my chair and walked toward her with my long, creepy fingers held out.  She squealed and laughed, and when I got close enough I gave her a wet willie (licked my finger and stuck it in her ear - it seemed appropriate for the context - I'm taking a gamble that "wet willies" are not mentioned in the teacher handbook).

Later I introduced a new letter combination and passed around the bag with the object in it that had that combination.  The kids are supposed to reach into the bag without looking and guess the object.  Last week I started teasing the 2nd-graders with the bag, telling them things like, "Be careful when you reach in, it bites."  The next time we used the bag, a student asked, "Does it bite?"  "No." I said, then after the student put his hand in, I said, "It licks."  "Ewww! Aaagh!" etc. etc.  Today's object was a turtle, and I have one with a hard plastic shell and squishy, rubbery body parts.  One kid decided he wasn't even going to chance it, touched the outside of the bag quickly with his index finger, and passed it on.  I assured him that it was okay, and he knew the other times were jokes, so he took the bag back and cautiously reached his hand in.  I was on the other side of the table, leaning back against the white board all casual-like, and when his hand was in the bag I jumped at him and said, "AAAHHH!!!"  His eyes got huge and he screamed and jumped back and laughed.  I did this to N. once, too - just can't get enough.

As I entered my classroom at the end of my lunch hour, one of my 1st-graders jumped out from behind the table and yelled "AAAHHHH!!!"  I screamed and jumped - he really got me.  Kids these days.

This evening, N. and I were playing a game that involved asking each other questions.  I asked him questions related to what we've covered so far and told him he could ask me anything.  After asking me to spell onomonopeia, or whatever, his 2nd question was, "What is my mom's favorite kind of wine?"  I cracked up, Mom said "What?!", I guessed rose, the answer (which N. didn't know) was chardonnay (sp?).  So for my next question I made N. spell chardonnay, which he worked through, then I told him I wasn't really sure how to spell it.  His next question was (teasing me), "Why are you so mean?"  "Because it's fun!" I said, and pushed him off his stool.  Except that he caught his balance before he completely fell, so I had to pull the stool out from under him, sit on him, and give him a wet willie in each ear.  Mother approved.  I love this family.  :)

pictionary 07/22/09

My 9:30 class played pictionary today, drawing pics of words I wrote on index cards.  One girl got the word "fin" and I was expecting a shark or a fish, but she drew a mermaid, complete with coconut bra, and the boys were immediately off task.

. ? ! 03/09/10

Conversation with R. this a.m., who is more artistically gifted than I - I asked her to draw/write a cartoon that used the 3 punctuation marks . ? and !  I hastily sketched her an example to show her what I meant; turns out, I could have just recorded our conversation:


R:  "Is that a chicken?"
me:  "It's a person."
"Why does he have a beak?"
"That's his nose."
"What's wrong with him?"
"Nothing!"
"Where's the dog's nose?  Do you want me to help you?"
"No!"

spelling turkeys 03/02/10

Actually, they're "spelling tricks," but one of the 2nd-graders came up with the alternate pronunciation, and I like it.


N, tired from a full day of school and just after reviewing other spelling turkeys, when asked when you use "ck" for the (k) sound at the end of a word: "(tired pause)...After a bunch of other letters."

A 3rd-grader, practicing doubling the last consonant in some words before adding a suffix that begins with a vowel - I gave them the base word "rap." "Miss Kerri, is this right?" He had written "raped". I said, "No, that's..." and fortunately that's when my brain kicked in - "Erase the ed and start again; what do you do before adding the suffix?" "Oh yeah."

Teaching the letter x:  after saying and having my 1st-graders echo several words that end in x, including "six", it was time to discover what letter was making that final sound - I asked the students to repeat the words we'd said earlier so I could write them on the board.  One boy said, "Sex?"  Silence, as I work on keeping a straight face and wait to see if he/they knew what the word meant.  Soon the room was full of giggles - somebody's gotta' bottle that sound and give it away.

more fun & realizations 02/19/10

Yesterday my lessons focused on the 1985 "We are the World" video to aid famine relief in Africa and the 2010 remake to benefit Haiti.  I wrote "1985" on the board under "Africa" and mentioned that I was in high school at the time.  A 2nd grader said, "You were in preschool?"  "No, high school."  "How old ARE you?!"  Another kid: "Was that when Ms. S. was a little girl?" Ms. S. is a 60-year-old black woman who talked to the kids last month about growing up in the '60's - segregation, etc.  "No, it was after that.  Can we please focus on the video?!"  :)  The remake added a rap section and I was excited to show the kids that musicians they like were working along with other, different types of people to help people in need.  They enjoyed seeing the rappers, but I didn't bother telling them about the 15-year-old white kid that sings the opening line because he didn't fit my stereotype of what young black kids like. But when the video started, my 3rd-grade boys said, "Hey! That's Justin Bieber!"  And when I showed the video to N. (white 4th-grade boy) tonight and Justin came on, he said, "Oh, I hate that kid!"  I swear I'm learning at least as much as my students are.

dyslexia fun 02/04/10

Today R's lesson involved reading and following a recipe (moon cakes for Chinese New Year). She did fine reading the recipe before we made it, but during the action I asked her to read the last step before our time was up.  Instead of "refrigerate," she said, "Ree...regurgitate for half an hour."  And no, in spite of my cooking history, it's not because I made them!  She did almost all the work, and what little part I helped with I messed up of course, but hopefully no one will notice...what's an extra egg?  They're supposed to be that sticky. 

At some point during the mixing R. asked me why I wasn't helping her, and I said, "It's like Driver's Ed. - I have a brake pedal, but I don't have a steering wheel."  (Her mom told her what I meant.)  I was pretty proud of myself for that one, although the truth is I probably heard or read that somewhere but don't remember doing so, so I'm taking the credit.  One of the many benefits of memory loss.  I can't remember the others.  But until last night with N. and today with R. I hadn't seen so clearly the benefits of my previous training and experience. When you have students with severe/multiple disabilities, you learn to wait a llllllooooooooooooooonnnggg time for them to do something.  But if you've taught the material, and the kid gets it, getting out of the way and letting the kids figure things out for themselves (unless they're about to burn the house down or something) is amazing.  Last night N. took a long time to sound out a word, and when he got it the moment was indescribable.