The guilty pleasure

On Thursdays and Fridays I usually create mental lists of my weekend intentions. These lists typically include the dreaded inevitables: cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping. But I try to reward myself and express my creativity by throwing in a good dose of fun stuff too, like making birthday cards or blogging or sewing. Oh, and usually grading too. But I try to get that out of the way quickly so I can have me time and mom time the rest of the weekend. Okay, honestly, it's mostly me time. We're being honest here.

So I made my mental plans and here's what they looked like: finish grading, skip cleaning (did it on the snow day! Woohoo!), laundry, make as many birthday cards as possible, groceries. And maybe shopping (the fun kind) (if I got everything else done).

Not unachievable, I don't think, but then I got hit with a double-whammy: Clint had to go help his brother unload a moving van (my favorite grocery and work day) PLUS Lauren went to a friend's house (read: no backup babysitter) PLUS it snowed ALL DAY!

So, in defiance, guess what I did? I read. All day. My backside kinda aches from sitting on it so long, but hey, that's the price of laziness, right?

I read Rebel Angels again, by Libba Bray. First of all, don't be alarmed by the romance novel look of the cover. It's not a smutty trashy book. One of my students introduced me to this series a few years ago and I finally got around to reading the first book this summer, I think. (It's called A Great and Terrible Beauty.) Set during the end of the Victorian era in England, it's about a trio of girls in a finishing school who have stumbled on a secret: one of them, Gemma Doyle, has more magical power than any person who has ever lived, and she has to save the magical Realms from the evil that is hunting her, seeking to steal her power and use her as its tool. Sounds fantastical, I know, and it is, but mixed in with the magic is also a love story and lots of secrets about secondary characters--and Gemma too--and period details that bring this exciting time period to life.

I recommend the book.

In fact, I may reward myself for my laziness today by picking up the last book in the trilogy tomorrow when I'm out getting groceries. I'll just have to placate my conscience by making at least January's birthday cards before I sit down to read #3.

Snow Day Adventures

So did you know that teachers LOVE to be awoken unexpectedly at 5:30 by a phone call? It can only mean one thing: snow day. I still don't know why I got the whole day off and Clint only got a two hour delay, but I am SO GLAD I got to stay home today.
I started my morning off right by sleeping in until the decadent hour of 8:30, then got up and made oatmeal with apples for Jared and myself (his request), drank a few cups of coffee and read for about an hour, and then tackled a job I was saving for the weekend--with dread. Taking down the Christmas decorations and doing a thorough cleaning. Usually the kids (and sometimes Clint) pitch in with cleaning and we get it done in about an hour, but, you know--they don't move things when they dust and sweep, they don't wash the floors on their hands and knees. I worked all day, finishing up maybe 15 minutes after they got home at 3:30, and now my legs are aching!
Who knew that a snow day would be so much work?
But I moved the kitchen table to Lauren's room for her to use as a vanity table and moved her chair up into the "library"--so now I have a cozy spot to sit and read while dinner bakes--which I did this evening. All very lovely. I like decorating the house for Christmas, but it's just so much more STUFF than I usually have sitting out. Now it looks less cluttered, less sparkly, and definitely less dusty.
I can't wait to go back to school tomorrow and RELAX! ;) But I'm rewarding myself with the thought that on Saturday, I WON'T be cleaning. That's something to be very happy about.

Here I Go

Just printed off my first VERY rough draft of the novel I wrote in November during National Novel Writing Month. Keeping in mind it's a very rough draft, here's a tidbit from page...hmm... oh, 11. How about that?

“So that’s how it is. I get it. See you tomorrow.” And he left, but he turned to take one more look before he walked out the door, as though he knew my eyes would be following his straight broad back, shaping the hollow between those long muscles under his shirt with my eyes. He was too conceited for me, I knew, and far too beautiful. But it had been a long time since anyone had looked at me the way he did, whether his looks were genuine or not.
At home, I sat in front of the TV with a bowl of cereal, crunching away while I watched my boyfriend Ross chase Rachel behind the dusty curved glass. My life was pitiful, I knew. Something about Ross attracted me, though, and had ever since the first season of Friends, back when I was still in junior high. Something about his geeky brainy-ness was appealing. Maybe the fact that he didn’t know how cute he was, and that he was awkward and shy in unfamiliar social situations, just like me. Nothing like Paul, but maybe I was growing up now, no longer interested in a nerd like Ross. Paul was my adult fantasy, and indulging that fantasy was harmless, especially when I was sitting on my ratty Ikea couch with an empty cereal bowl balanced on my knee.

I don't know...what do you think?

Rex Goliath

I've realized that when I go to the store to buy a bottle of wine, I am very open to the persuasion of a good label. If I could find FAT BASTARD in a Cabernet Sauvignon instead of just the Chardonnay and Merlot I've seen at Meijer, I'd buy it. It's funny and it reminds me of Thad's amazing capacity for mimicry.
And Five Friends, that's a good label for a night with some girlfriends. Winking Owl just sounds like it will make me wise if I drink it, and I love Left Foot Charley, which happens to be the brew company of Bryan Ulbrich, a friend I made one summer at Camp Arcadia. Great wine.
So today, as I polished off a bottle of Rex Goliath that I opened last night at Dave and Ilona's always great New Year's Party, I thought about labels and covers, and how I tend to judge books and wine and people by them. We talk about how we shouldn't, we know we shouldn't, but we do. I am beginning to think it's human nature. I remember the first time I saw Clint: the late afternoon sun beat on his hair that was so blond it was almost blinding. And his smile spread across his tanned face as he entertained a toddler with a Mickey Mouse impression. He was the perfect mix of gorgeous and childish and I knew I wanted to marry him. It was that simple.
Maybe first impressions aren't that bad.
And as for the Rex Goliath, I think I made a good choice. After two glasses, I'm feeling pretty lugubrious, and ready for whatever the evening may bring, whether it be a rousing game of Scrabble, popcorn and a movie, or lazy chatting with the fam. Maybe I'll help polish off the rest of the Left Foot Charley too, while I'm at it.

Teacherly Advice

A great thing about talking to another English teacher is the ideas we generate when we're together. I suppose other people talk about work when they meet up with someone in a similar field, and I wonder if other doctors, lawyers, engineers, artists, etc. talk about their jobs with as much enthusiasm as teachers do. At least the teachers I hang out with. Or maybe it's just me, and they're all humoring me.
Anyway, when I met E for coffee yesterday, we came up with some great brainstorms. I've been complaining loudly lately to anyone who will listen about the horrible cloud high stakes tests have created over my head--and the head of any teacher who likes to ENGAGE students' minds and interests, and not just "teach to the test." Complaining about how I don't want to just push multiple choice tests and worksheets at my students but get them to think creatively and write creatively and interact with literature instead of just spew content and analysis. But the MAN keeps saying we need to prepare students for the ACT and nothing else matters (we've even been told students don't need to care about what they write because they won't ever write after high school) (can that be true? I'm not naive enough to think all my students will WRITE all the time, but surely everyone writes, in some fashion, right?)
Enough ranting.
E gave me some great ideas I can't wait to try to get my students to produce meaningful, authentic writing--writing that has a purpose and an audience.
1) for my Creative Writing Club kids: have a writing marathon some Saturday, where we travel to 3-4 local spots, sit and write in each one for 30 minutes, then get together at the end to share what we've written. Pick one to polish and publish (local newspaper, maybe?)
2) do a collaborative project with my Creative Writing (class) students and her 7-8 grade writing students. Pair them up and have them write a poem together; I will try to visit her classroom and she will try to visit mine; we may try to get the students together to share at the end.
3) send my English 10 students out into the community to get corporate sponsors so we can raise money to publish a class anthology, for which each student will submit one piece of writing.

Are these not great ideas? I can't wait to put them into action.

Finding My Strength

Today I met a good friend for coffee, and amidst our talk about Christmas and kids and teacherly things, she told me something that really made me think.
She said she's been reading this book by Marcus Buckingham about finding your strengths. According to the book, so many of us focus on our weaknesses and try to work on them instead of focusing on our strengths and building them. Seems silly, right? But how many times have I looked in the mirror and seen the new red spot that will probably erupt into a pimple instead of my cute round cheeks? When I look at my hair, why do I see the gray hairs instead of the blondish--okay, mostly brown hairs? When I listen to myself sing, why do I focus on the missed notes intead of all the good ones?
And I know I do this when I grade students' papers: I write maybe one sentence or even just half a sentence about what the student did well on his or her paper, and then I spend the next four sentences dissecting his or her mistakes. Why do we do this?
My friend said the book claims that if we dwell on our strengths and praise ourselves for what we do well--and if we try to do MORE of those things we're good at, we'll be well--physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally.
So what are you good at? What am I good at? How can we improve ourselves by focusing on our strenghts. Good thoughts for New Year's Eve-Eve.

The Sicko

So what's up with getting sick on Christmas day (head cold) and still not being over it? Today, I slept in until 9:13, letting Clint get up with Jared, and snuggled back under the cozy blankets until that decadent hour. And after lunch, when Jared went down for his nap, guess what I did? Yup, I took a nap too. And now, at 6:40, I'm feeling tired enough to go to bed already. How am I going to accomplish my list of good intentions for the Christmas holiday if I can't get enough energy to change out of my pajamas?
I have done a few things: I finished grading my Creative Writing students' papers; I baked a ton of cookies (on 12/24, the day before I got sick), I read a few books, and I've sat around. Oh, and I've probably posted more regularly to this blog than I have in the last 2 months. But other than that, nothing.
So my revised resolution for tomorrow: get up early, meet E for breakfast, and keep non-lounge clothes on all day. Sit up in chair (no slouching or reclining), get up and move around, and try to speak with normal voice. Sounds doable. We'll see how it turns out.

Oh, and that essay I mentioned a week or so ago? The one I submitted to Miranda Magazine? It's on their website. Follow the link and read it, if you want to.