I, you, what?

I got an IUD "installed" this afternoon. I was somewhat nervous about the procedure because I knew it was going to be painful (as any uterus-invasion-while-conscious would be) but I didn't know what pain level or what type of pain to expect. I knew that women who have had a baby before have more space or more flexible cervixes (cervices?) or something. I had previously asked my OB/GYN if this Mirena thing (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IUD) was only for people who had already had a baby, and he said absolutely not. I'd been looking into it for awhile, etc.

So anyway, it was a quick enough procedure that I would describe more as "extremely uncomfortable" than "painful." It was like intense period cramps. And I'm on the couch now with these cramps that aren't going away yet, which I was worried about at first because I half-expected to walk out of there feeling nothing, the way tampons work. But my body definitely knows there's a foreign object in there. The cramps have subsided since 4:30 though. And the pamphlet says this is normal.

The best part is that my body will adjust, and then: 5 years of baby-free invincibility with no pills and their crappy side effects! Yes ma'am. Also: the possibility of no cramps and extremely light periods over time, and then maybe even no periods at all. While it's in there, that is. Take it out and it's like it was never there.

Food for thought ( I hate that phrase)

I decided a few days ago to start a food journal. I try to be aware of what I eat and make decent choices, but I find that I can't really remember what I eat most of the time and I have no sense of my habits and patterns with food, so if I'm capable of consistent data entry (since I'm not Leif), I should start being able to tell what it is I eat a lot of. Initial hypothesis: Cheese.

8/15

Breakfast:

- 1/2 whole wheat bagel with healthy smearing of "365" organic "whipped" cream cheese (1/3 less fat)

- 2 pieces of facon (Morning Star veggie bacon, whose crunchiness has become a necessity).

-cup of coffee with "International Delight" non-dairy vanilla-hazelnut creamer

Lunch:

- Manda sausage on whole wheat bun with Jack Miller's sauce

- (non Crystal Light flavored) water--an anomaly in the teacher's lounge

(No snack: a rare void)

Dinner:

- 3 humongous pieces of homemade pizza (whole wheat crust, mozzarella, Mary's pizza sauce, bell pepper, onion, garlic, tomato, mushroom)

- 1 Dead Guy Ale

8/16

Breakfast: same exact thing as previous day.

Lunch:

- Cajun turkey on whole wheat with mayo and baby swiss
- 1 kiwi
- water

Snack:

- little cup thing of cottage cheese made with 2% milk
- 1 fugi apple
- lots of slices off a block of sharp cheddar made with 2% milk
- seltzer with lemon slice

Dinner:

- 1/2 veggie platter from Almaza (grape leaves, falafel, salad, hummos, white pita, veggie mousaka, Grecian dip)
- seltzer with lemon
- 1 "fun size" Milky Way dark, 1 "fun size" Three Musketeers

8/17

Breakfast:

- same exact thing

Unexpected mid-morning snack that was delivered by a friend to my desk:

- 1 piece of leftover sugary white birthday cake

Lunch:

- 1 Lean Cuisine pizza (a frequent appearance in the lounge)--spinach, mushrooms, cheese, white crust, alfredo sauce
-water

Snack:

- 1 1/2 leftover pieces of white pita with hummos

Dinner: Hasn't happened yet. Depends on all the crap I can get my hands on at my parents' tonight.

Going to the light

The first week's almost over. I feel a combination of exhaustion, hope, amusement, pride, love, hunger, and gas.

But seriously, my kids are brilliant and kind this year, as far as I can tell. And I only have two smart asses so far but I already like them, even though they're both in the same class and they aggravated me today. One of them is a skinny white kid with braces who likes BMX biking and is currently enjoying The Catcher in the Rye according to his expression during "silent reading time" and a conversation he had with the kid next to him. He's also pretty brilliant in discussion: he picks up on all the nuances that it takes other kids a while to get.

The other kid is black with a very white-toothed smirk. He does that thing where he's always saying something in a totally serious way and he's completely joking. I had to stop to laugh whenever we were discussing the scene in "The Story of an Hour"when the main character is looking out the window and feeling "something coming to her," meaning a feeling. He raised his hand fake-excitedly and said "Oh I know: she's goin' to the light." He's a kid that is sure he'll get a laugh before he delivers the line. And I heard him bullshitting another kid on his way out and I had to laugh. But he does worry me a bit because I haven't seen him break character and he hasn't given a straight answer about anything. I haven't read his survey yet.

Most of them are funny, a lot of them are mature and passionate (on day one, one girl asked me if we were reading Romeo and Juliet and I asked her on her way out if she didn't like it, and she said: "Oh, no, I LOVE literature."). Those who hate English feel passionate about math, science, or music according to most of their "interest surveys." I need to get cracking on planning because I think these kids need a faster pace than last year's group.

And then there's my kid in seventh hour. He may as well be wearing a sign that says "homeschooled." This child worried me when he first walked in because he looks about eight, he tucks his shirt into jean shorts with tall white socks, he wears glasses (of course), and his binder is the biggest thing I've ever seen (even since TrapperKeeper days). He looks about 4'8", 75 pounds. I would say he's the classic nerd with a pocket protector, but those kids find a niche pretty easily at my school. "Underdeveloped" is probably more accurate. And completely stressed and checked out. I have him last hour, and I felt bad for him the first day and I've been keeping an eye on any interactions he has with other kids to make sure no one is making fun of him. Thankfully, no one has. They haven't talked to him either, but he doesn't exactly lend himself to conversation as I found out a few days ago. When he walked into class I greeted him and asked him how he was doing and he said an almost robotic and very emphatic "Not good."

I approached him after class (everyone else had left) and asked him how he was doing and can I help him with anything. His face didn't relax. He said: "Not unless you can tell my world geography teacher that two pages is not a summary." Turns out he was particularly freaked out and fixated on this assignment to write about three places in the world "you'd like to go." He doesn't really want to go anywhere, he said. And even if he did, it was only going to end up being a few sentences. He was sure of this. No matter how I tried to convince him that this week was going to be hard and overwhelming but that it's possible to adjust and that things would definitely become more manageable, he was not believing it. This was the first glimpse I got of this victim mentality that things would never ever go his way.

I checked back with him today to see if he made it to the bus yesterday (he had been worried about it) and he said no. In a very "everyone in the world is stupid" tone, he said the numbers were by the drivers seat and only sometimes on the back of the bus. So this was the reason he couldn't catch his bus. It's the fault of the painted numbers on the bus. So his dad was coming today to pick him up instead. I started feeling some dislike for him and dreading the future parent-teacher conferences where I'm positive the parents would be crazy and overbearing, insisting that this child is uncommonly gifted and that there must be something wrong with the way things are run at the school. I just know that's what's coming.

In response to him explaining that there were a lot of buses all in a cluster and that they don't wait for you, I eased up on the motherly tone and said "Yep. That's how it works with buses." I insisted that I believed he could and would adjust to the way things work around here.

I feel bad for the kid because his parents have obviously sheltered him to the point that they've instilled in him a tendency to blame other people any time a problem arises for him instead of trying to push through the problem and cope with it or solve it. It's an unlikeable and problematic characteristic, to say the least.

I feel so strongly about parents' ability to let their children face and endure struggles instead of pulling them away from them, and teaching the kids a way to cope when things don't go right instead of teaching them that if things don't go right, then it means exclusively that the world isn't being fair, and they deserve for it to be fair and have everything go their way all the time. I feel that this increases the possibility that they'll become completely self-centered whiners who feel sorry for themselves and frustrated that they can't "deal." At that point, they'll be so far away from being able to empathize and see other people's points of view because they firmly believe that they have it worse than anyone else.

These kinds of parents are (unknowingly) doing such a disservice to the kid when they believe they're doing everything good for the kid by keeping them out of (any) harm's way. I know a few people my age that were brought up this way where their parents avoided any discipline, conflict, or discomfort with them and they are crippled in the sense that they cannot handle problems of any kind. I think it's a widespread problem, particularly with white middle class boys. Or that's my theory, anyway.

We'll see how this kid turns out. I'm rooting for him and I hope his parents won't pull him out over such "crazy" things like busing and two-page summaries.

I also hope some kid has the kindness to tell him to untuck his shirt.

Day One of...a lot of days

My first day went okay. First hour is so damn early that I can't think right. 7:10. I felt pretty nervous when those kids came marching in. Some of them are really really little. And some are gigantic. I see a lot of cuties and a few brats already.

My kids from last year love me now that I'm not teaching them. They came by in the hall and hugged me. The kid who gave me summer reading (Dan Brown's Angels and Demons, of all things) hugged me while I was standing outside my door and then ran in and yelled to the new kids that this was "the best class ever." He's my biggest fan. I wish he wouldn't have done that because they're about to have lots of work to do that will not be very much fun.

My room is so small and cramped. I'm afraid I'm going to hit them with my ass when I walk around signing AR logs. Or that they'll constantly cheat off each other. I'm going to have to use psychological warfare or something.

I did a lot of handing out papers and going over the syllabus. I can't wait until we actually start reading things. My plan is to do a lot of reading things in class and out loud because I don't want to do those stories in the stupid textbook. Except for "The Cask of Amontillado."

Their grammar workbooks aren't in yet. This sucks because I need to get a move on with parts of speech. That's probably the crappiest thing about my job: I can never count on having the materials I need for the kids. Or everything is late and disorganized and it interrupts class time.

I wish I could get rid of this never-ending stomachache. I'm not that nervous about next week but my body is, for some reason. My plan is to go to CC's for a few hours and plan. Today. And it's already 2:13, so I better get a move on.

School Daze

First day back to school today. No kids, just teachers. Can't write full sentences. Too tired.

Today would have been fine if I didn't feel like I got nothing done. I pretty much finished my classroom yesterday, so I did a lot of walking around talking to people today, grabbing a few books from other people's classrooms and taking them to mine, putting some old tests in boxes. Then it was time for lunch. All the teachers ended up at Roman's. Going anywhere with teachers is weird, because there's your one friend, then the few younger females that you're friendly with by default, and then the older creepy coach-type guys that think they're being funny with you but the slightest joke just falls all flat and feels mostly inappropriate. And it took a long time to get the checks.

Then we go back for our department meeting and talk about all the shit that's coming up and schedule library time for research papers and there's a lot of irresolute things up in the air. I don't know when I'll get my grammar workbooks or three-hole punchers or podium. But I like everyone in the English department.

Then I went to get a haircut. That went okay.

Now I'm sitting on the couch feeling mostly braindead but with a nagging sense that I still haven't done anything productive. I thought about opening my lesson plan book but I left my weird Friday-first-day-of-school schedule on my desk. I know what I'm going to do but I haven't planned it out minute by minute, which needs to happen.

It was hard to eat lunch today. And I absolutely love eating. Mostly I'm holding up really well and I'm more relaxed than I thought I'd be at this point, but I can't get rid of this pit in my stomach and this mean subconscious voice that's warning me that I'll never be ready in time. It's the voice of scheduling and micro-managing. A mean, cold, high voice. Like Lord Voldemort, only female.

The thing I need most is to wind down enough to get a good night's sleep in order to maximize productivity and minimize glazed-faced staring tomorrow. This is going to take wine and/or beer. And then coffee in the morning.

Oh, thank god, Sarah just called me to go for a walk.

I need an apple and a pointer

Yesterday I stood in the middle of my classroom a lot and surveyed all the half-finished things I'd done. My desk has binders and calendars and sticky pads on it--all useful things--in disarray. My bookshelf has scattered teacher's edition workbooks and old textbooks and folders in no particular order. The top of the shelf is littered with things that have no place yet. There are paper clips and old capless pens in every nook and cranny.

My monitor chord that connects with the projector is much too short, so that the projector's image is way too big for the screen and completely lopsided because I can't wheel the cart close enough. Reid and I bought an extension that we're going to test today.

And what do you do with a bulletin board? I put up tiny fliers of the school year calendar, the fire drill schedule, and the shortened schedule. I thought about putting up pictures of our short story authors, but that would be a big waste of printer ink, which is hard to come by at school. Maybe I'll just fill up the rest with quotes. Or vocab words.

I put up a few posters that I got at "Schools Aides" and from posters.com. It's halfway decent. I like the one that says "Stand up for what's right even if you stand alone." And there's one about how in thirty years it won't matter what jeans you wore or how your hair looked but what you learned and how you used it. Cheesy yet applicable. "Teachers open the door, but you must enter alone." That one's actually a Chinese proverb.

I made most of my copies for the first day. It's going to be handout city in there. The kids won't know specifically what hit them because they won't read the syllabus or any of the things for their parents. They'll be losing papers left and right. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. I hate the first day. But I am at least going to give them a little interest survey.

I think I'm going to put numbers on the desks and seat them in alphabetical order and assign them a class number to put on all their papers. They'll just love that. But I'll learn their names way faster and I'll know exactly whose paper is missing from a stack and who's absent. Those numbers will be coming off once I learn who they are and who can't sit next to who and who needs glasses because they're squinting and complaining in one of the back rows.

Reid made a big 2-D Bonzai tree on the wall. It looks so cool. The idea was that it was going to be a quote tree and I was going to post quotes around it and let the kids pick quotes they like from the stuff we read. And if I got enough good ones, I was going to post quotes from their writing assignments (Mrs. Godshall did that for us in 11th grade and it felt awesome). At any rate, the tree's cool by itself if all that falls through.

At the end of yesterday, I felt very overwhelmed and incompetent. I was fussing at myself for not being all the way done. I kept seeing the other English teachers' rooms in my mind--they all know exactly where to put the staplers and the Kleenex, and everything looks orderly and professional.

But today I woke up with a sense of possibility. My plan is to get everything in the room in a functional place. Tomorrow is in-service. Somewhere between now and Friday, I need to be at a cafe writing things like:

10 minutes: silent AR reading.
20 minutes: noun minilesson, practice on p. 12 Gr. wkbk
20 minutes: read ___ outloud with guided discussion

notes: plan the rest of the unit, you crazy scatterbrain.