Oh, my dear readers, it has been a while since I've actually sat here and wrote. The past 6 months have been deep soul searching months for me. As some of you know, I was in grad school, working towards my M.A. in Education. I hit some bumps in the road, brought on by my own self. I wasn't sure if this was the right fit for me. The current education model in this country needs some work. I'm not going to spend my time explaining my thoughts on this, as it will take me too long and quite frankly, it is incredibly complex. However, I was not sure if I could successfully teach in a system so driven by test scores, we are starting to forget that we are actually teaching human beings, who need more than scripted instruction. So, I decided to get a job in the public school system. Now, I am no stranger to the system, I've been in and out of public schools since my freshman year in college, but things have drastically changed since then. The changes were painfully obvious to me my first few months and to be honest, I wasn't sure I'd fit in to the system. I took a break from school, dug my heels in the sand, and spent many a sleepless nights trying to figure out what the hell to do. And here is the thing: from as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a teacher and I just can't turn my back on that, no matter how much fixing needs to be done. Because, my friends, it always comes back to the kids. I have a box in the back of my closet filled with letters from former students that on my worst days, I pull out and read. Those misspelled words, the horrible handwriting, and the ripped paper are the reasons why I've done this and will continue to do this, it has NOTHING to do with summers off. I recently received a letter from a student I work with who is so very challenging that read, "thank you, Mrs. Grant, for caring. I know you care about me." Because, my friends, being a teacher is not just about geometry and syllables, it is about caring. If I could, I'd hug that tough little guy and thank him for reminding me that this is indeed my life's work and no matter what, I'm not turning my back now. Rather, I'm forging ahead.
May 17, 2013
Forging Ahead
Oh, my dear readers, it has been a while since I've actually sat here and wrote. The past 6 months have been deep soul searching months for me. As some of you know, I was in grad school, working towards my M.A. in Education. I hit some bumps in the road, brought on by my own self. I wasn't sure if this was the right fit for me. The current education model in this country needs some work. I'm not going to spend my time explaining my thoughts on this, as it will take me too long and quite frankly, it is incredibly complex. However, I was not sure if I could successfully teach in a system so driven by test scores, we are starting to forget that we are actually teaching human beings, who need more than scripted instruction. So, I decided to get a job in the public school system. Now, I am no stranger to the system, I've been in and out of public schools since my freshman year in college, but things have drastically changed since then. The changes were painfully obvious to me my first few months and to be honest, I wasn't sure I'd fit in to the system. I took a break from school, dug my heels in the sand, and spent many a sleepless nights trying to figure out what the hell to do. And here is the thing: from as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a teacher and I just can't turn my back on that, no matter how much fixing needs to be done. Because, my friends, it always comes back to the kids. I have a box in the back of my closet filled with letters from former students that on my worst days, I pull out and read. Those misspelled words, the horrible handwriting, and the ripped paper are the reasons why I've done this and will continue to do this, it has NOTHING to do with summers off. I recently received a letter from a student I work with who is so very challenging that read, "thank you, Mrs. Grant, for caring. I know you care about me." Because, my friends, being a teacher is not just about geometry and syllables, it is about caring. If I could, I'd hug that tough little guy and thank him for reminding me that this is indeed my life's work and no matter what, I'm not turning my back now. Rather, I'm forging ahead.
May 16, 2013
A Portrait a Week, 18 of 52
It was after dinner, after showers, and we had a guest in our backyard, a young raccoon. The kids sat for such a long time watching this creature and I savored this quiet moment as a family. I love the Spring, but I also hate how we are all so very busy. The girls play sports, which we are thrilled and encourage, but it causes us to be very busy. We rarely have a free weekend, so it is in these moments that I realize the busy is not so bad, because it makes us all slow down and appreciate the small things, like a raccoon eating sweet potato fries in our backyard.
On a side note, this project originated at You are My Wild...check it out, the pictures are incredible.
May 05, 2013
May 01, 2013
Tips on Surviving the 3rd Year
So, a disclaimer: three year olds are not my favorite. They are amazing, of course, but they also can really stretch your patience, sanity, and boundaries...every single second. This is my third time around this manic age, and although I am by no means an expert, I do have some tips to get you through.
1. Feed off their desire for independence. Three year olds want to do EVERYTHING by themselves, especially things that they CANNOT do, but insist on doing, usually as you're running late for something. Be proactive. Mornings are tough in our house. Five of us have to get out of the door on time and one member of our family is not too keen on leaving the house without some sense of accomplishment. So, Oliver's job every morning is to put ice cubes in my water bottle. Yes, it seems like a silly task, but it gives him that sense of independence and accomplishment. He loves handing it back to me saying, "I did it, Mummy. Now you have cold, icy water all day." He then puts his coat and shoes on and is ready for school. A little tip: silicon ice cube trays are a parent's best friend. They bend easily which allow little fingers to dig out the ice cubes. Nice fine motor skill practice and sensory exploration, too!
2. Be aware of trouble times and be armed and ready. Armed with distraction, of course! After dinner is a nightmarish time for us, everyone is tired, there are dishes everywhere, and they are juiced up from dinner. We put a timer on and the kiddos "run their sillies" out, which I'm sure by the sound of my house at that time, my neighbors have purchased ear plugs. When the timer goes off, the little mister used to erupt into a mess of tears, punching, and kicking. To avoid that, he now has a job to wipe down the table. The routine helps him transition from crazy town to getting ready for bath and quiet time. That little task is one of my saving graces, let me tell you. I fill up a small squirt bottle with a touch of vinegar and water, give him a towel, and he does the entire table. Squirt bottles are great for motor skills, too!
3. Let them explore. By this, I don't mean only explore outdoors, but also themselves. This boy of mine loves to get his toes painted, wear tutus with his sisters, play superheroes, run around the yard with a soccer ball a million miles an hour, and play house with his baby dolls. Yes, he does have his own dolls. Ever read, William's Doll? Please do. One of my favorite children's books about a boy who wants a doll just as bad as a basketball to practice being a good dad someday. I digress. What I am getting at is, let them be three. Let them get muddy, messy, teary, whiny, and horrid. Let them feel the joy of accomplishing a task you are not so sure about because I promise you, when they do find that sense of pride, it is an amazing moment as a parent.
As much as I complain about three, it is hard not to see the beauty in it as well. As hellish as it is, seeing them slip into their own skin is unlike any experience. You have the privilege to watch a person grow, not only physically, but emotionally as well. A person who can drive you to do strange things (I brush my teeth nightly wearing a viking hat because it makes Oliver laugh and allows me to brush his teeth) and bring you to your knees in adoration. It is a remarkable privilege...and truth be told, it only gets better. I promise you, parents of three year olds, four is worth every ounce of hell you're going through. I can't ensure much, but I can tell you year four is pure magic. So, hang in there, it does indeed get better...
April 30, 2013
April 24, 2013
April 18, 2013
Date Night at the MFA Boston
It just so happened to be the 16th anniversary of our first date last night, no, we're not really that corny, it just worked out that we could get a babysitter. We actually had a hard time deciding what to do. We didn't want to sit and sip cocktails or sit in a quiet movie theatre. So, my genius husband found out the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston was free after 4 on Wednesdays. So, we hightailed it into this great city of ours.
I would be a liar to say I was not a bit concerned to head into the city after Monday's tragic events, but all that vanished as we crossed over the Tobin Bridge. Yes, it was strange. It wasn't the same Boston I love...it was better. You could feel the life, the love, and the resiliency. As we drove along the Charles River, life continued: people were taking their nightly jogs, kids were at soccer practice, and little toddlers were running around the playground. People are moving on, honoring the everyday heroes and the lives lost or altered by this tragedy by living their own lives.
So, I was not only inspired by Van Gogh, Degas, Renoir, Rodant, Picasso, and all the awe inspiring work inside the museum, but also by the vibrancy of this city. We left the museum and it was a quiet ride home with this dapper date of mine because we were both so overwhelmed. Silenced by emotion, appreciation, and hope. It was indeed our best date yet.
April 16, 2013
An Art Show
I had the pleasure of organizing the art show at Ollie's preschool today. Words cannot describe how much I love doing this.
the teachers all baked a little something to raise funds for a play yard project...how cute are the artist palette cupcakes?!
I think early childhood educators get a bad rap. Nothing is more insulting when someone says, "Oh, you teach preschool, how lucky that you get to play all day." I can say "we" here because I taught preschool for over a decade and yes we play, but we do a whole lot more than play, too. Learning is a constant in preschool and goes beyond knowing the ABC's. I am lucky enough to be on both sides of Oliver's preschool: I taught there and adore the teachers and now, as a parent, I hope this display of creativity honored their craft in some small way.
I loved this quote so much because teaching is not a job, it is a craft, an art. So, thank you to the teachers at Kid's Connection for not only being artists, but inspiring little artists as well.
A Portrait a Week, 13 of 52
Today is my 400th post. 400. Wowzers. I could think of no better way to honor my 400 blogging adventures, than to go to the reason I started blogging in the beginning, my kiddos. So, I asked each one the question I'm still trying to answer,"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Well, I'd like to be a teacher, a singer, an artist, and take care of animals somehow."
"A firefighter and a cooker."
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