I’ve been thinking about how to start blogging my memories ever since I wrote about them last week. Today I was chatting online briefly with a friend from High School. We’ve actually gotten to know each other better since we graduated than we ever knew each other as classmates. I mentioned that I blended in with the walls pretty well in school because I was so shy. I suppose his response shouldn’t have surprised me but in a way it still did to read that he remembered that about me. I guess that part of me is so changed into the person I am now that I’ve always hoped others would forget it too. But it’s part of me and it’s what’s on the brain right now so I’ll share a few memories of that quiet kid I used to be.

I have to preface all of this with a constant question in my mind. It’s one of those “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop? The world may never know.” kind of questions. I’ve always wondered how my life might have been different if I’d lived in different places, or more specifically not moved when I was a young girl. You see, when I was born and up to the ripe old age of 7, my family lived in Preston, Idaho. Now if you’ve seen Napoleon Dynamite you’re going to be laughing your backside off about my internal struggle but I’ll share it all the same.

My parents owned and operated the Plaza Motel which was right next door to the Popp’n Pins bowling alley. My mom and dad are probably amazed right now that I pulled that name out of the archives so easily. But I actually remember a lot about those years in Preston. I especially remember Kindergarten and first grade. I remember that I was a cute little girl that was well liked by her classmates. I didn’t have any enemies or kids that were mean to me. In fact, I remember very specifically laying our coats down against the wall of our first grade classroom during the winter as there were no hooks on our wall. Several boys had a habit of burying mine with theirs. One day, I remember Ricky coming up to me and asking me if I knew why so many boys put their coats on top of mine and when I said no he explained they did it because they liked me and thought I was cute. I blushed as deep a pink as my dress but inside I glowed like a thousand watt bulb with the compliment. I remember catching him looking at me with a big grin more than once and loving every moment of it. I have a similar memory of Kindergarten and my mom switching from the half day every day to the all day every other day program for a short time. When I went back to my half day class I was grabbed up in the biggest bear hug by one of the girls who exclaimed with glee, “Oh goody, goody gumdrops!” over and over. I can still hear her in my head. Further, my peers perceived that my family was rich because they owned the motel. Which was one of like four businesses in the entire town. Okay maybe more than four but again, have you seen Napoleon? The point is, the perception, or at least my interpretation of it, was that I was one of those popular kids - well liked, privileged, etc. If we had never moved I may have been a smug Summer Wheatly (sp?) kind of girl.

As it turns out, my parents sold the motel and moved to a small farming community after my first grade year. The closest town was Rexburg, about 8 miles away. While I was delighted that we finally had our own home everything changed. No one knew me or my family, they didn’t own any landmarks and consequently big changes were in the cards. I was a nobody, a new kid, an outsider. While the kids of my “neighborhood” readily accepted me and were kind with fun friendships forming, the kids at school were not. For a child who never experienced a move, doing it for the first time at age seven was brutal. Most of the kids at school in my class were mean and made no bones about not accepting me as the outsider. I got ‘new girl’ sneers and jeers to my face as well as behind my back, and I was excluded from circles of friends along with their games and activities. I was too young to know if I had tough or weak skin, I just knew I was very confused because this was so opposite of what I’d known in school previously. I wasn’t a totally ninny because I remember yelling one day to most of the class that maybe I’d move back where I came from anyway and then they’d be happy and so would I! It wasn’t until I broke the ice playing the coveted sport of soccer at recess that I was accepted as one of the group. For the record, one aspect the movie got right about Preston is the sport…tether ball was the only thing outside rollerskating I’d had exposure to. But the good news is I had a knack for it and I was pretty good, comparatively speaking, so from that point on things took a positive turn.

By the time I was my daughter’s age, in fourth grade, things were much closer to the life I’d known in Preston and I was happy. I even had a boyfriend, and he was one of the popular and privileged, “rich” kids whose daddy was a big name farmer in the area. Remember how association acceptance worked? When you’d be accepted in different social circles just for who your friends were? Oh wait, that’s not a thing of the past. Never mind. Anyway, aside from the petty girl games that come with the age and a few rough patches with it, life was good. That’s when the next blow struck. I was uprooted again when all the kids my age were combined into one big sixth grade class at a middle school in town.

Sixth grade changed everything…again. I was now another face in a classroom of kids I’d never met, this time things were more equal but still really intimidating. Most of us were new to each other. However, that year largely defined the rest of our school experience, reputations and friends. Worse was I lost my association powers because my friends and I were separated into different homeroom classes. In fact, after a few weeks of school my best friend informed me that she’d found a new best friend and so couldn’t be my friend anymore. It was a sign of things to come because I never again associated with those early friends from grade school. I’ve always regretted that. But I fell back into a pattern of quiet uncertainty. I met one new friend that became my bosom buddy through the worst years of my life - a.k.a. Junior High. But the pattern of quiet was set and wouldn’t budge much until I got involved in drama my last couple years of High School.

It’s funny looking back because I see a recurring pattern of starting new, rising to the challenge and starting over. I’m not the shy, quiet and insecure girl I was in school anymore but I remember her very well. There’s a lot more to me being quiet than I can share here and this is already a book so I’ll close and save the other thoughts for another day. Suffice it to say there are good things about being quiet too.

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School Relationships Blogging Memories

So many things are calling for my attention this morning but my mind is likely to explode if I don’t find a way to get some of these thoughts and memories out. So the laundry, dishes and vacuuming will have to wait while I attempt to organize and store these thoughts here on my blog - my personal pensieve.

The memory mumble in my head has been building for a while now. The culprits for the growth include: 1) watching my daughter and remembering life at her age, 2) being in touch with old classmates, 3) reading. All three seem to have recently collided in the same space of my mind.

My daughter is 10 this year. She reminds me frequently that she’s really almost 10 1/2 because she’ll be 11 this fall. What she doesn’t know is that I need no reminding. Nor does she comprehend how well I understand her feelings of wanting so much to hasten growth not to mention the emotions of girl troubles and boy crushes. But I do remember and watching her experience it is like reliving some of my past on a regular basis, which until recently I’ve completely underestimated the power of. This is intertwined with viewing photos yesterday of some old classmates at my last high school reunion that I didn’t make it too. I saw a picture of one of my best friends when I was her age and it brought back a flood of memories. Then last night as I was reading, I was struck with the harsh reality of how many things we do in our lives because of influence or peer pressure and how that impacts our lives, the lives of others and the memories we lock away.

Lock is an intentional verb in the concept of storing memories. You see I’ve recently come to the realization of how I’ve locked in so many memories, expectations and criteria based on association and timing. Sadly, many of those were done automatically when I was the least capable in my life of looking beyond myself - namely, high school. As I looked through pictures of classmates from a few years ago I found myself thinking terrible things like, “wow, they sure got fat”, or “woof, time has not been friendly to them”, or even “they look as mean and stuck up as they ever were.” These aren’t the things I think when I meet people every day now, I don’t hold them to this standard. And then I thought on how I was being so harsh in my judgments and expectations simply because of association. The fact is, I knew these people when they were teens. The fact is, teens are self-centered and egotistical and often down right unkind. The fact is, teen bodies haven’t been impacted with age. I didn’t think I was a terrible teen, I still don’t. But I concede that I was totally wrapped up in myself, my own fears, anxieties, self conscious worries, etc. Heck, I never wore a short sleeved shirt to school or shorts because I was so sure everyone would notice my horrifically bony elbows and knees. It never even occurred to me that they wouldn’t notice my imperfections because they were so focused on their own. And I certainly never thought on the physical state of maturity and age, I just took for granted that my body would always be the same and therefore only focused on the things I didn’t like about it. This is where hindsight becomes so valuable and we’re back to that reality of not truly appreciating what you had until you no longer have it principle.

What really got me into a muddled mess was thinking about never giving these classmates a chance. I locked in my memories of them at their best or worst and that’s where they live in my mind. It’s why I’m so shocked when I find out how many kids some of them have or how nice they are now that they’re adults and I’d be equally shocked to learn anything negative about my personal heroes and the few I put on pedestals. I’m ashamed to admit it, but to this day there are two girls whose names make me cringe when I first hear them. It was a silly thing that happened clear back in 7th grade when they made fun of me for not having any boobs when I refused to give them my math answers. But it made its mark on me because it hit on the area of physical bodies and so many insecurities I battled with every day being so skinny and nothing but a straight highway. I’m sure neither one remembers it and I’d guess that both would feel terrible today to know how much it devastated me. And that’s the point. Kids are mean. Sometimes they’re just stupid and do and say things without thinking. Most of the time they do or say mean things just to impress someone they’re with because they want so much to be accepted and feel important. This peer pressure makes kids do things they wouldn’t do on their own and often things that are uncharacteristic. This describes the scene I read last night in my book and it made me really think hard on my own locked memories. Moreover I wonder how many people have locked memories of me doing or saying something that was hurtful to them that I’m not even aware of? And wouldn’t I like the chance to be redeemed or make things right?

I’m not sure if this post is really going anywhere or not. I just know I have a lot of thoughts and feelings regarding the many memories in my head right now. As my husband’s 20 year reunion comes up this summer I see and hear so many shallow things regarding these locked memories. Some are so bitter that they have nothing but complaints and unkind things to say. Others purposely attempt to live in those days past because they were the height of their glory days. All I know is that I’ve grown SO much as a person since my school days and the person I am now is the one I’d like my classmates to know, not the growing, insecure teen I was. That means I have to look at each of them with different eyes too. So why is association memory so difficult?

I’ve definitely identified some things I need to work on, namely my own lock box of memories. Maybe it’s time for me to find a key and allow those babies to move around a bit, rub up against some new memories in my mind. Perhaps I’ll start unlocking those trapped memories here in some more posts on specific memories; try to view them in a new and different light. It’s funny what you choose to remember and how when you start thinking on those things other memories find a way of spilling out. It’s part of who we are - a natural process. But if I want to keep growing as a person I think I need to air out some of these memories. Besides that, they’re not all bad. In fact, I’m sure I’ll be surprised at how many good ones are hidden under the locked ones. Hmmmmm that’s something to think about.

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School Sharing Emotions Relationships Parenthood Blogging Reading Deep Thoughts

The message is loud and clear: testing is the entire point and purpose of public education in the U.S. today.

My children have almost two months of school left, but for all practical purposes school is over by the 14th of April. You see the AIMS testing is happening during the second week of April here. This test is all you hear about from the time school begins. It’s is the nationwide test that serves the purpose of determining how smart our children are and thus if their school and teachers did their job to government satisfaction. (There’s a scary thought.) The entire year is spent cramming and training for success in taking the test. One could argue - I know I often do - that this “coaching to test well” has replaced teaching.

Adding insult to injury is the fact that my daughter’s math tutoring program ended last week. It doesn’t matter that there’s nearly two full months of school left, nor that she was running at full steam finally grasping many of the concepts. Similarly, I heard the announcement over the intercom last week at my son’s school that art classes were also finished for the year. I’m looking around wondering if I’m the only one who thinks it doesn’t make sense to end teaching programs two months before school is out. When I went to school you had maybe one or two days of freebies at the very end of the year which involved cleaning desks, tables, turning in books, etc. I can’t figure out why they don’t move the testing back a month making full use of their time and keeping learning going.

To me the message is loud and clear that learning is not the focus or primary objective for our public education system nor the many government regulated programs surrounding it like “No Child Left Behind Act.” No wonder we’re behind on the learning curve. And if we think our kids aren’t smart enough to figure this out then we’re in even bigger trouble.

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Parenting School Blogging

Yesterday on the drive to school I was addressing words and phrases with my son. He was on a “what the heck?!” kick. I told him maybe we could come up with a better one. He naturally questioned why and I tried to explain that even though “heck” isn’t a bad word it is used as a replacement for a swear word so it’s really not a great choice. He snickered and said “What the heck?!” again under breaths of giggles. Ah - reasoning with a five year old.

So I tried a different approach. I gave him some silly examples of made up words and phrases like “Golly Wolly!” and such. He laughed but didn’t want to let go of his precious heck phrase. So I offered “Oh Boy!” explaining how that one phrase can work for every situation and every emotion. Then I proceeded to give examples of all the ways and inflections you could use which led to rolls of laughter from the back seat. While he liked the idea, I could tell as we walked to his playground he still wasn’t completely sold.

So you can visualize my reaction yesterday when I opened his calendar to see a yellow square (stop light theory for behavior) and read the words at the bottom:

“Oh Boy!”

*sigh*

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Funnies School Sharing Motherhood

Friday mornings I help out at my son’s Kindergarten class. I’m quite certain I get the most education from it. They were talking about paper for their science unit today and I helped the kids make paper sculptures. To say that my son enjoyed the project would be an understatement, in fact, as you’ll see below he brought extra paper home to keep working on his masterpiece. His design started as more a Hot Wheels creation with loops and tracks and grew into what I think is best described as something from a Dr. Seuss book.

One of their assignments was to take the label of “This is made of paper” and attach it to something appropriate. In good form, he put his label on his own work of art. *smile*

Note the concentration tongue as he continues to work on it at home.

He may have a future in engineering as every time he added more height he’d go back and add supports on either side to help it stand up straight. Have I mentioned lately how much I love 5 year olds?

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Family Parenting School Motherhood

Kelly asked this week if anyone knows a teacher who qualifies for passing the torch. She describes such a teacher as:

“Teachers who adopt their students for a year, as if they’re their own kids; who find ways to help even the neediest child to learn; who network with other master teachers to discover best practices to use in their classrooms; who share their expertise with parents to help them become more effective; who know their “kids”, love their “kids” and hurt if one moves away.”

I do know one of these teachers and I am so blessed that she is working with my daughter this year! As one who could have chosen many fields to excel in, she choose education specifically for the purpose of being this kind of teacher. Taking her own personal experience and using it to fuel her desire to help her students with different needs and learning styles find success, she is amazing at helping each student feel successful. Consequently she has more than her share of student who fit this description and it actually seems to feed her success with each of them. She’s amazing. She tells them how amazing and smart they already are, pointing out so many skills they’ve already mastered and how hard the were. And I’ve never known anyone who works harder at getting the message through to her students that you don’t compare yourself to anyone but yourself. How grateful I am for this!

I knew on ‘meet the teacher night’ my prayers had been answered when I walked away feeling excited for my daughter instead of anxious. FINALLY - a teacher who cared more about the students individually and their learning/mastering important life skills than the new guidelines, reports, tests, programs and procedures. With this being my daughter’s fourth grade year, and the continued push for more curriculum and higher expectations, this attitude in today’s education world was something I didn’t even dare hope for. Yet here she is, a teacher who really knows my daughter and cares deeply for her. She calls me with any concern and made my heart leap for joy at our first parent teacher conference when she told me how much of me she sees in my daughter…that she knows right from wrong and she works hard every day to choose the right. As a parent, these are the BIG questions that you have and worry about with your kids. Have you taught them enough to stand up for what’s right even among the peer pressure they are bombarded with every day? To hear a comment like that is like a spring rain that just renews hope and courage in a mother’s heart.

This post is in tribute of my daughter’s teacher and every other teacher that fits Kelly’s description. I wish we could clone them. *grin*

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School Motherhood ADHD Success Blogging

Last week my friend Kelly issued a challenge to blog about our goals and resolutions for this school year. Like her, I find that so much of my calendar rotates around school that it sure makes sense to give some attention and direction to it.

I’ve decided my primary goal this year for both my kids is to keep focus. By doing this I’ll be able to keep things more relaxed and hopefully feed the fun of learning. It has taken me a few years to realize that the push and stress of my children’s teachers and schools do not have to be owned or accepted by me; that my role of homeschooling is to keep my kids happy and healthy, enjoying learning without pressure and/or stress. They’re kids for crying out loud and they have their whole lives to master the concepts they are being exposed to now. You won’t get that from today’s education system in the states though. Everything continues to be pushed harder, faster, and earlier with more regulation and emphasis on the testing. Never mind actually learning or understanding that content. I believe wholeheartedly that our kids are smarter than we often give them credit. And I further believe we tend to underestimate their capabilities, but that doesn’t mean that developmentally they are ready for the regimented curriculum and tasks we are throwing at them earlier and earlier or that it’s in their best interest.

For example, this year I was looking over the performance expectations for Kindergarten. It didn’t look like Kindergarten requirements to me. My son’s teacher confirmed my concerns by telling me that this year’s Kindergarten curriculum is last year’s first grade curriculum. Check it out:
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I have a growing frustration about our educational standards in the United States today. I’ve voiced some of my concerns in the past. Today the fires of my frustration have been refueled.

I don’t want to be misunderstood so I’m starting with a point that I want to make crystal clear. I am in complete support of the goal this legislation was created for. I too believe that our educators need to be held accountable for teaching and that our youth benefit from the best education possible. What I strongly disagree with are the methods the act uses. And here’s my primary reason why: Common sense, development and individual needs should be the paramount considerations. Currently, they are secondary - if regarded at all.
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So I’m just sitting down at my computer for the first real time this week. I’m so behind on everything! It’s crazy but my morning computer time is like a cup of coffee for most people. I don’t do well without it and the last two days have been crazy and filled with getting ready for school things. So today I’m restoring some balance. I know I won’t have enough time to get all caught up but at least I’ll get a start.

Both kids are back in school. That almost seems surreal. I’m very happy that my little guy got into the early kindergarten program of our school district but I’m pretty bummed about the commute to get him there. It’s not nearly as bad as it could be, not even as bad as it was when I took my daughter to a different school her second grade year, but it’s enough. Just having to plan the morning routines to allow for all the unknowns of traffic, etc. can be a strain. This morning we just made it in time to his classroom because there were about 4 miles of cars parked everywhere around his school. We had to hurry with the walk to get there on time and the first/only thing he said when he got to the classroom was how tired he was from walking because there were too many cars! His teacher seems to be a really nice and I think they’ll hit it off great. She’s got more of a grandmother’s love and touch which tells me she’s been at this a long time and she’s in it because her heart is in the kids. In fact this morning the handout she gave each parent as she placed a name tag on their child was called “Whose Child is this?” It’s too precious not to share:

“Whose child is this?” I asked one day,
Seeing a little one out at play.
“Mine” said the parent with a tender smile.
“Mine to keep a little while,
To bathe his hands and comb his hair,
To tell him what he is to wear,
To prepare him that he may always be good,
And each day do the things he should.”

“Whose child is this?” I asked again,
As the door opened and someone came in.
“Mine”, said the teacher with the same tender smile.
“Mine to keep just for a little while,
To Teach him how to be gentle and kind,
To train and direct his dear little mind,
To help him live by every rule,
And get the best he can from school.”

“Whose child is this?” I asked once more,
Just as the little one entered the door.
“Ours” said the parent and teacher as they smiled.
And each took the hand of the little child,
“Ours to love and train together,
Ours this wonderful task forever.”

I thought it very sweet that she would be thinking of so many parents in this tender way on their child’s first day of Kindergarten. I think I’ve lucked out once again with a fantastic teacher for my little guy.

My daughter’s school starts just ten minutes behind my son’s. I knew she’d be late if I tried to take her with me to drop him off first. It’s hard to believe she’s already so big and independent. She waited at home for my phone call at 8:05 to tell her it was time for her to leave. She put the garage door back down with the key pad and walked to school. I’m so proud of her! The only thing I knew I’d need to manage was having her wait for a call to leave because she was so excited to go this morning! I’m not sure when they both grew up but they’re already leaps and bounds ahead of where I’m ready for them to be and I see no end in sight.

Yesterday we tackled my daughter’s bedroom to make sure everything was where it should be for school today. She set up her week’s outfits with such pride and enthusiasm. I wish you could bottle that first of the year excitement for later in the year when you all need a little shot in the arm. She’s getting a HUGE surprise this weekend that she knows nothing about. I can’t wait for that. Her birthmom is making a stop at our house for a few nights on her travel plans back home. It’s been 5 years since we saw her last and ironically Cidderbug has been talking a lot lately about wanting so much to see her again. It’s going to be a really fun weekend! And now I know there’s clean sheets on the bed and no hidden surprises under it! *laugh*

Well, my time has already expired if I hope to get the child free grocery trip in before it’s time to pick up my little guy. Some days I really wish I had one of those time turners like Hermione used to get more done.

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Parenting School Sharing Motherhood Balance Blogging

Somedays I feel like I must be the world’s best second guesser. I catch myself doing this all the time. Notice that at least now I know to catch myself! That’s got to be worth some brownie points doesn’t it? Anyway, in school I was always told never to second guess myself on testing, to go with my first reaction/answer. I have to admit I never really mastered that even though I tried. I always have such a desire to be certain that I had great difficulty leaving an answer alone if I wasn’t positive. And most of the time the teachers were right, my first answer was correct.

The good news is that I’ve found this easier as a mom than I ever did as a student. Don’t get me wrong, I still have many moments of beating myself up for things I wished I done better, etc. But by in large I’ve learned to listen to my mother instincts. I had one experience when my daughter was entering first grade when I didn’t listen to my gut and it proved to be a situation where I really should have. I knew from the moment I met my daughter’s teacher that the combination was not going to work. Mid year I asked if we could consider changing a teacher but the principal wasn’t ready to do that I wasn’t as bold as I needed to be to make it happen. That is one thing I regret and if I could go back I’d have made a necessary change the moment my gut sent up a warning flag. But from that I learned to act on my mothering instincts with great confidence and determination. Today it paid off for my son.

I recently shared the experience of having my son tested to qualify for a Kindergarten program. And heaven knows I’ve vented more than a few times about school related frustrations. So this morning’s call telling me my son qualified for one of our district’s Kindergarten integration programs was truly a mini victory for me.

As I visited with the lady on the phone I told her that he tested right where I thought he would and that my desire has never been to push him, but to make sure the opportunities for learning and growth were available to him. She said that’s the whole purpose for the program he qualified for. (And on a mother’s bragging right card the program only accepted 40 of the kids tested for the entire district! Way to go Taylor!)

So today I’m enjoying that taste of victory for being right. That’s such a good feeling. I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I am learning with greater confidence and conviction to listen to my gut as a mom.

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Family Parenting School Emotions Motherhood Success