Classroom Antics

I had this parent once who was quick to criticize. And I was all too quick to give reason after reason in reply to his concerns. I should have known... nothing I could say would be enough or the right answer. It made for a very stressful few months in which I worried more about what he thought than about being myself in front of the classroom... which seems to be a relatively successful approach (here is where I should link: See His State Assessment Scores).

Trying to explain what a teacher does in his classroom is close to impossible. There are too many variables at play. I only teach basic algebra, otherwise I might be able to come close to explaining the concept mathematically -- probably requires elements of calculus too... of which the mere mention brings beads of nervous sweat to my forehead.

When I tell, or is it unload, the day's classroom antics to my wife she sometimes shares that she doesn't know whether she would want to be a 5th grader in my classroom. I think it's a nice way of saying that she does know -- she wants no part of having to sit in my class as a student.

Not being the one in charge for over 180 days allows for someone else to quite easily do quite a bit of armchair judging. I readily admit to doing it when I watch other teachers' behavior... again, unfair. Why is it that parents are so quick to criticize (note that I didn't say question which I am most open to) when I'm more than certain they wouldn't do the same with their dentist, optometrist, lawyer?


So here's a couple of ideas that might prove useful in the classroom. Whether they prove to remind current teachers about what they already know or help a starting teacher find footing, or give a glimpse into what teachers do... I hope you'll think they're at the very least... thought provoking.

• Be real. Students have been sitting in front of teachers for some time. Perhaps in kindergarten the students love you because you're their kindergarten teacher but titles don't work for very much longer. Students know when you're being legitimate. As a colleague shares with his students: "Here's how to be a great teacher... care about your students... and don't fake it because it doesn't work."


• Understand that the ol' adage holds true -- you have to choose what "battles to fight." The German side of me wants to be in control of every aspect. I have learned that it is much more effective, and healthy for sanity, to take a more surgical approach.


• I utilize the Dr. Pappas Affect. I share this story at the beginning of every year. Dr. Pappas was a Political Science professor of mine at my alma mater. He was an institution whose class was suggested by many. So I registered and remember sitting in his classroom wondering what would happen next. Whether by design (my choice) or because "that's just the way he was" his classroom was a space where unpredictability occurred. He whistled upon his entrance, consistently reassured us all that there was no attendance policy and wondered out loud why students kept at it, sang ridiculous songs that seemed to have some type of relevance to course content but quite honestly was over my head, and would consistently take a break from discussing the likes of Machiavelli with more odd behavior. His classroom was always full even though role was never called. Lesson learned: predictability breeds discontent. Be a little unusual and so many other classroom problems dissipate.


• Be honest. Say you don't know when you don't. If the student's question will result in an answer they many not like... ask the student again if they are prepared for brutal honesty. This requires a relationship with the student to have been formed so the sting that might be felt will be offset by their knowing you care enough to be honest with them. If I can't be honest with students who I expect to be honest with me, then I need to be in another profession. Granted, I take into consideration that they are 5th graders. My honesty is always intended, and worded, to be helpful.


• Celebrate success. I have a Success Board where all A papers are stapled. Initially I think my students aren't sure that they'll ever get an A. They try to get me to put up their B's which I refuse -- B's are great... but shouldn't we strive for the best possible, OR let me say it a different way -- what inside a child dictates that they aren't capable? I'm a believer in their ability to accomplish whatever they set their mind towards doing. After a few weeks, my bulletin board has papers stapled upon previous weeks' papers. If classroom conversation ventures into the "I don't think I can do it" I point to the board from across the room. A classroom full of examples in which they CAN do it.... HAVE done it.


• Use technology. They love seeing a picture of themselves on the morning PowerPoint presentation, love the odd reference to your own childhood (I share my 5th grade class picture and ask them to guess which one is me). Kids love technology, it's their world. I think if you can make it function towards meeting your learning objectives... they'll squirm in their seats wanting to see what you'll do next.
  
• I allow fresh starts. Some teachers will read students' files to get a better understanding of their strengths and weaknesses before the first day's school bells ever ring. Instead I publicly announce to my students on the first day that I do no such thing unless warranted. I also don't seek prior teachers' thoughts on my incoming class. Allow me to explain why -- I want students to have a fresh start within my classroom's walls. If they had fantastic years in the past... I tell them I hope that will continue, and if they've had a poor showing, it is now their opportunity to make a change. Does this work? I've had some great successes in which students have a banner year within my classroom yet can also recall students in which there was no change from previous year's antics. Regardless, I stick to the premise that everyone is due an opportunity without preconceived notions.


• Be open to criticism. No, I'm not referring to one's supervisor but to one's students. I have the "parking lot" bulletin board in my room divided into four parts: positives / things you liked, things you would change, notes to me, and questions. So of course they like to share notes (it's amazing what they will tell you about what occurs in the bathroom or in the cafeteria) and things they would like to change. I hear all about what I did that they didn't like. It's an opportunity to teach the importance of sharing positives -- complimenting, doing something nice just because.
  
• If a student thinks I am being unfair, I am open to hearing their complaint if done respectfully. Early on we discuss how to respectfully comment when we feel like we've been treated unfairly. It's yet another skill worthy of developing in young people.
  
• Know what button to push -- this isn't intended negatively nor does the knowledge come the first day as I mention above. Sometimes a student needs a figurative push, sometimes they need their space. Sometimes they need to answer a difficult question, sometimes an easy one. Sometimes a quiet one-on-one conversation is best, other times a public word of encouragement or refocus is more effective. As I write this, I immediately recall my classroom management class many years ago. I don't know if my professor would like my approaches, but I will respond by sharing this. They don't teach you in "teacher school" how to motivate students -- whether toward academic success or excellent behavior. It's yet another skill that teachers have to develop. Taking into account their style and personality a teacher has to figure out what works for them. I should also mention this: the button to push changes from student to student, from day to day, from subject to subject, and sometimes... from hour to hour.
  
• Use "the look" or "the tone" sparingly because these tools don't work if you've worn them out.


• Raise the bar. Convince students that they can achieve success in the classroom. At the beginning of the year I ask students whether they want a fair & tough teacher or unfair & easy. They always choose the fair option although it comes with difficulty. After a few weeks I share with my students a "secret" -- my tests are tougher than the state assessment. This tough standard might not look as good on the report card initially but the thought processes involved equate to success in so many other ways.


• Stress Character. If students understand that your decisions regarding what you'll accept in the classroom are based on a core set of values, they will understand (whether they want to or not) where you'll draw the line in the sand.


• Others that come to mind: Whisper when you want to be heard -- students will wonder why you're whispering, repeat something only once -- I have difficulty with this one, allow for no hands to be raised while speaking -- it interrupts the speaker's thought process and there will be time for questions, allow a student to be the teacher -- students' word selection and the unusual nature of them being at the front of the room might just convey what you couldn't.

Lastly, the longer I teach the more I realize how much I've been affected by my first year as a teacher. Depending on whether you were supported and had excellent mentors, or not, that year sets a precedence for your success and student expectations. I was very fortunate to have a team committed to helping me survive my first year... and want to return to do it all over again.

I wish all teachers had the same experience I did but worry that many didn't... perhaps this will be good material for the next blog.

But for the moment, would someone please point out the person that thinks all we do in elementary school is crafts. Or better yet, does the general public understand that academics is far from being a teacher's sole objective?

What ARE we teaching?

They arrive at 9 a.m. and leave six and a half hours later. Instruction, conversation, art, worksheets, questions, quizzes, homework, assignment pads, tests... what did we accomplish?

Sometimes we teachers drive home at night thinking... "great day! Yes."

Then there are those other days. Every new teacher is certainly told about those every experienced teacher has had. There are days when it seems no matter what was attempted, the end of the day brought frustration. All the planning and forethought... all the ingenuity we hoped they'd experienced... all effort -- to no avail. Those are the days we go "well that didn't work... now what?"

But I, a career switcher, know from first hand experience that other professions have their ups and downs too. No matter what the workplace may look like, sometimes one's drive home is happy... sometimes depressing. I think it's fair to say that the difficult days make teachers say... "why do this?"

So I had a student teacher a few months ago. She did a great job. Finished up her undergraduate experience in my class. What an ending it was for her. Watching from my desk and sitting on my hands, as they say, trying not to interrupt... I realized all over again -- teaching is tough. We are expected to do so many things well.

We plan outside of work hours. We grade then too. Teachers are asked to become experts in areas that they teach. In elementary school that's defined as language arts, science, social studies, and mathematics. If every student doesn't understand the concept, we're asked to remediate until they do -- regardless if the student even wants to understand. We need to both understand and identify learning disabilities. We are asked to differentiate instruction depending on an individual's strengths. And of course we need to be sure that everything that occurs in class ties to district goals. And there's lots more... but there's one important lesson worth noting more than others.

You know... they don't teach you how to motivate in teacher preparation courses.

They do mention that how your students do on the state assessments is how you're evaluated... where teacher programs fail is that those assessments don't have a check off box for the child to check off: "I didn't give it my all" or "I really don't like math so I don't care about my score" or "there are so many crazy things going on at home, I really couldn't concentrate on school". More on this one again.

Yes I know. Construction is tough. Accounting is tough. Firefighting is tough. Nursing is probably tough too. I suppose everyone will argue that they've decided on a difficult profession.

But I'm molding human beings here. I'm not selling widgets so determining success can't always be quantitative. Saving lives as a doctor or rescue worker certainly is important work -- rewarding too I'm sure. But for close to a year I not only meet the expectations set forth by the state, I try to also meet those of my parents, colleagues, administrators and... my students. It can be quite the tricky balancing act.

And there is no better feeling than when students return after continuing on to the next grade and they tell you how the zany things you did in class... actually made a difference. How my origami lesson that frustrated them so really showed them importance of details and perseverance. Or how a difficult subject was made easier because of something I said or did. Those are moments for another post.

In ending, I don't think a state assessment score really equates that I've been a successful teacher. Sure, seeing those pass advanced scores in print feels good. But after five years of this... I think that's just the beginning. What about the rest of the student?

Have I successfully encouraged them to go beyond what they thought possible?

Teaching is like overseeing 24 little nations (the current number in my class). Sometimes they get along, sometimes they argue and want nothing to do with one another. Sometimes they just want to be acknowledged. And each day is different.

I hope that when students leave my class after a year. They will remember me as someone who cared enough to be honest. Who was able to challenge them and they in turn met the challenge. Most of all, I hope I taught them that success is not determined by the degree of genius within... it is in fact determined by persistence and a desire to accomplish what they desire.

I call it a life lesson. Something that I think we definitely ought to be teaching. Can we please assess that too? Now how do they put that on a multiple choice form?

Is Being a Food Snob A Bad Thing?

I enjoy a good meal.

I think there should be craft invested in my consumption. I think there's value in understanding cheeses which I still don't. I think culinary school are important. I think an innovative chef ought to be rewarded financially. I think about what the White House chefs must have to create for midnight presidential hunger pains. I'm impressed by our newly opened Fresh Market grocery store and the way their bakery selections have an obscene variety of goodies.

I can even appreciate a deep fryer, however I think both doctors and gastric connoisseurs would agree that it should be used carefully. Of course I tend to think more about the food experts advice than the medical one.

But the timer beeping at the local hamburger joint does not make my mouth water and its attendant rushing to raise the fries from the fat does instill my love for what's dripping with fat.

Perhaps it's because of my father's genes which possess him to think of the evening meal upon waking in the morning. Apparently he stares at the ceiling thinking not of work or difficult world issues unresolved, but of what combination of meats, vegetables and starches would be perfect to end that day's events. This skill admittedly, I am far from perfecting.

Or maybe because my mother cooks without a measuring cup. She bakes without one as well. I've seen the infamous Paula Deene give fellow cooking experts hell about not using measuring spoons and cups. My mother does not follow Paula's advice. Instead I have seen her apply seemingly random dashes, pours and combinations to create consistent yummy dishes. I am not so gifted. I do however tell her that this lack of skill is entirely her fault as childhood memories do not include much, actually any, cooking as a youngster.

Despite my lack of hands on training, I've managed to move on with occasional success.

I am happy to report that I have made many a chocolate chip pancake for both college roommates and my children. Both my roommates gained weight while I worked that pistachio enameled stove. And I am happy that they gained weight... forgive me but it still sounds like success.

Speaking of college, a favorite memory is hosting a party at my apartment that did not, solely, center on debauchery... but on creating a jambalaya so spicy that the first few seconds of consumption pleased my guests until the fire within the dish surfaced a full 5 seconds later. I still smile remembering their rush to extinguish the flames in their mouths. I am still proud of that multiple pepper combination I created like an experiment in a separate bowl. I will add that I underestimated how quickly that keg of beer was consumed. I also remember that everyone in the townhouse seemed happy. First "dinner party" - success.

I've known people unfamiliar with foods not labeled on an overhead menu. Those golden arches pass my by without a moment's hesitation. I don't appreciate the fast in food.

I do appreciate the effort spent on each item on my plate however I am not referring to the way a hamburger is expertly wrapped in milliseconds by a teenager in the food prep and wrap station. while I wait in line like a cow in the milking barn. I dislike those lines. Now I understand the necessity of waiting and the virtue of patience. I question the worth of patience in this situation.

I prefer instead to wait in line at the butcher's shop in a sleepy little German town. From my occasional trips to the home of my ancestor's I appreciate the banter between the housewife and the butcher. Now is the conversation the wife's attempt at getting a better cut of beef and the butcher's opportunity to flirt I know not... but I appreciate it enough to eavesdrop from the corner. In my desire to take in the atmosphere I often forget to make the vital decision about cold cuts or cuts of pork... I try to return to looking at the selection under glass. Hmmm... maybe a smoked sausage link that I can nibble on while I continue to the next merchant.

All this brings me to wondering whether appreciating a good, dare I say small portioned, meal outweighs one in which endless amounts are available at the local buffet. I completely understand that good is defined subjectively thereby the issue.

For some it is defined by the most available for the least purchase price. For others it isn't so much the smallest portion for the highest price but appreciating each bite consumed. Is this the food snob I have become?

I know the latter sounds healthier and I might even pull out the healthy card in my defense.

But there's this meal I'm thinking of now. A mere two hours after I've risen from bed while I sit here typing with a steaming cup of coffee beside me.

I've introduced to my household a dish referred lovingly as Moco Loco -- another college memory. Macaroni served alongside sticky rice which is covered by a beef patty hidden under a fried egg submerged under brown gravy. Oh, and perhaps a large slice of New York cheesecake.

Now wouldn't you also like a "healthy" portion?

Let Sleeping Giants Lie They Warn

"Sleeping in" is easily done as a child. Sleeping in is tolerated by most as we entered our pre-teen years. As a young adult entering the responsibilities of the working world, you can enjoy sleeping off the previous night's rowdiness with no guilt and comforted by the thought that you deserve the time under the sheets. You partied hard, as we used to say, and recovery time is essential. Waking up shortly before noon is ok, the norm even among our peers.

And then parenthood arrives.

Everyone is overjoyed by your new arrival -- as they should be. My wife put in some serious time, effort and illness into the production. I as the father spent serious time slaving away before the stove making the infamous Saucy Meatball recipe in hopes of fulfilling my wife's cravings. Yes, I liked them too... but maybe not every week, every Thursday in fact, and sometimes twice a week. BUT... no complaining is allowed, in all sincerity, because I did little of the human producing. My crucial responsibility in the production of this little person long since passed.

And when my son and later daughter arrived, there was much to celebrate. They were cute. They fit into the crook of my arm and I immediately realized the degree of dependence they had on me. They even smelled good. And the poop was amazing... at first. My first days of parenthood were entirely fueled by adrenaline. And then it hit me.

I may never get enough sleep... ever again.

With the passing of time I understand that this thinking was a bit illogical. But not those first few months... the fear was real. I was worried.

Every two hours there would be rumblings in our home. There was feeding, rocking, diaper changing, walking, refrigerator opening, creaks from the wooden floors and stairway, raising up from the warm bed and returning to it with cold feet and tired eyes. The newness of parenthood had not yet passed.

We had been reminded constantly of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) during pre-birth classes, and night-time was not the relaxing time it once was. We were very aware that the "sleepy time" hours were not without danger. We even bought the sensor that reassuring ticked at regular intervals confirming that his heart was beating -- another new sound.

Two more hours... just two more hours of sleep... please God. The promises of doing all good, forever... were made, and not silently in prayer, but out loud... for all to hear.

It was a scary time. One day I walked into my good friend's office and a look of worry crossed his face. "Are you ok? You look like hell." He was right. I, however, was so tired that I failed to see the sickly image looking back at me from the mirror in the morning. Pale and haggard. I cared little about image, little about food and even less about what used to bring joy to my pre-parenthood life. I cared only about my bed and the time I would be allowed to be with it... in it.

I had in fact been beaten by this tiny human. He had arrived a mere weeks prior. And he knew only four things -- hunger, wet diapers, being tired, and an odd sensation that scared him -- burps. Should one of these occur he made it known to all, at any time. My son had complete control over two adults. He now owned our time and determined our sanity. We had no power. Would this go on till he turned 18?

In our wisdom we placed his crib in the next room to our bedroom. Before you think us uncaring, the bassinet did stay in our room for what we decided upon to be adequate time -- four weeks. In celebration we then placed his little body in the nursery so that sleep might return in larger concurrent increments for us all. What novices we were.

We did all you would expect from new parents. His nursery had furry fish, stars and even a large purple moon hanging from the ceiling. There were protective, soft, adorable borders on the interior of his crib. There were enough burp cloths and blankets to keep our washing machine busy. The walls were painted colors found only in nurseries -- vivid blue and yellow. There was a changing table for all the essentials needed at any hour -- day or night.

We were unsuccessful.

I heard him move at night. I heard this sound through the wall. I heard this sound in the midst of slumber. There would not be sleep. And then it happened. I remember like it was last night.

He learned to roll over. This reassured us because now maybe if there was a breathing problem, he could move himself to correct the problem. Too much heavy sleepwear because of anxious parents? Blanket covering his face during the night? He could fix it himself now. Ahhh... we could relax. Another novice move.

The piercing alarm shattered the still night... the alarm that warned that his heart had stopped... which of course it hadn't. In the process of rolling over, the sensor beneath the mattress no longer detected a heartbeat. This fact did not register as an option.

I clearly remember launching myself from sleep and across the bed. Over my groggy wife. Like Bo Duke crossing the hood of The General in the television series Dukes of Hazzard. But without the fun and adventure.

Seven years later coupled with a daughter of three years, that fear of no sleep has somewhat subsided. Well to be honest, the fear still resides deep within me but I now know that there may indeed be a time when I will awake comforted. Not from the cry of the alarm clock, but I will greet the world rested and anxious to start the day -- writing this sounds like a joke told to the uninformed.

And so I share with friends and others... I can't wait till they want to sleep in. I will be the parent that we all remember. The one that clapped their hands as they woke us up on weekend mornings to rake the leaves. Or like my father who was determined to "warm up" the chainsaw at an early 7 a.m. and then ask me to help... no, tell me to get up and help him stack firewood. I think I finally understand.

Revenge is sweet.

I will bide my time and wait another seven years for my teenage children to desire sleep. I will wait patiently. And when that time comes... I am told by those that have already endured teenage children... let them sleep. I'm guessing that they may be right as I will surely be sleeping too.

Except now I can't sleep in even when my children decide to do so. Please God... just two more hours...

Teaching Today

So while I'm still new at the blog world and finding others' interests that are similar to my own... it's reassuring to already read other teachers' posts about the misconception of today's teaching profession. Especially when they attempt to "tell it like it is."

I often tell others that unless one is married to, dating a... or a parent of... a teacher, people just don't understand the challenges of the profession. In fact after teaching over six years it has been my experience that most don't understand the difficulties facing the classroom teacher in a public school setting.

I think most recall their own experience in the classroom. Those experiences we all remember from watching the teacher over the heads of those sitting in front of us. Watching the teacher's reactions. Critiquing the teacher. Wishing we were the teacher. Thinking, of course, that we could do better than the teacher.

And so perhaps as observers of the profession... many think that the profession has every benefit ever known to a prospective employee. You get to teach what excites you, you get summers off, students want to do well. Allow me, for a small moment, to dispel some of these urban myths.

No we do not get to decide what to teach. Perhaps many remember a favorite teacher teaching us more about their favorite pastime of hunting than Earth Science. We remember the antics of the odd faculty member known throughout the halls of high school. Yes, there were teachers we loved and hated with equal passion - no doubt that students still do. But what do you remember about elementary school?

I remember the love note I sent across the room labeled "do you like me, check here for yes and here for no". I remember that the playground was so far away from the school and often the dismissal bell would scare us into thinking that the buses would leave us behind. I remember the squirrels racing across the branches outside the classroom windows. I remember art class and tie-dying white t-shirts. And yes, referencing academics, I do remember being nervous when the report cards were handed out. What a different time that was... how much more students are required to know now.

I tell the parents during Back to School night: students have to now know an amazing amount of information and then relate it all on one day... on one test... regardless if they are having a good or bad day. Imagine being given a writing prompt and then having all day to write... regardless of whether you have a headache, have writer's block, or can't relate to the prompt. Students today have enormous challenges set before them at school.

Teachers now don't focus their entire instruction on a loved subject. In Virginia, the Commonwealth decides what will be taught during what year. They outline by date or by quarter. They outline using specific numbers and letters so that teachers can reference these when necessary. Fact... teachers don't get to decide what to teach. We may or may not love the specifics of instructional objectives to be met... however we DO love it when students understand what they first experienced as difficult. Every students knows it when the teacher enjoys being the classroom with the teacher... we remember don't we?

And the students that annoyed us as students don't make it easy for the teacher either. Of course I will also add that my favorite memories of years past are the students that were difficult to teach initially, and then by year's end... had transformed into young men and women wanting to succeed and prove to others that no challenge was too difficult. They persevered... a lesson that I try to consistently reinforce.

Yes, we have to do more than teach. In fact if we only had to teach the subjects well... teaching really would be easy. It's all the other factors. Never mind that state standards and the assessments that occur at year's end ignore the fact that a student may not want to do well, teachers have to overcome not just a disability or an academic challenge a student might have... they have to succeed regardless of a students negative and sometimes debilitating experience outside the school. (MUCH more on this later).

Summers do give us an opportunity to remove ourselves from the classroom for a few weeks. Those that don't teach summer school, are taking summer classes themselves - professional development is constant. Or perhaps others are working their other job. Teacher pay scales are public knowledge... take a look. We didn't become teachers for the paycheck but we still have to pay the bills. It will be interesting to see what occurs when school calendars are year-round... allowing for a few weeks between quarters. I agree, the summers are certainly captivating... yet if the time spent planning outside of school during the academic year were counted... I, like most teachers, are due some more "comp" time. As an example, my wife and family will attest to the fact that during my entire first year teaching... I spent each and every Sunday planning for the coming week. And while a teacher's first year in the classroom is, well... horrific due to the fact that one is both learning the curriculum, figuring out how to teach the curriculum, and also keeping up with all the other demands of the classroom. I know that good teachers keep learning themselves... and using the summers to make the next school year better than the last... making the next year even more impactful.

So enough of the rambling. My colleagues and I talk for hours about our profession's challenges and share stories when we prove successful in our interactions with our students. I heard it told to me once that the profession is an honorable one... I agree. I just wish more of society would agree and understand what a teacher's day entails. I assure you, the front of the room is not quite the easy endeavor we might have thought it was when we were in grade school.

Parenthood - Status as of October 2008

After being a parent for a time that seems hard to imagine... has it been over six years already, what did we do before children. I vaguely remember long moments on the sofa, watching whatever came on to the television... we were in fact led by those that schedule what will show up on the tube. I suppose that was before programmable television yet also during the amazing time of video cassette recorders. Now my time is spent between doing the essentials required by home and the desires of my children.

"I want... I need... Daddy can I PLEASE...."

Yes, we wanted them. We dreamed about them. We hoped that we would one day have them.

We wondered about children. What type of parents we would be. Would I make the right decision about how tough of a parent to be. What would "I love you" sound like from their mouths. And then they arrived. Luckily one at a time because if I were John and my wife was Kate... and we had a tv show about having eight children... I don't know. Would I be as sane as they seem to be on their weekly show. I suppose there has to be editing. Wonder what they take out?

Yelling, screaming, arguing, refereeing on who did what and coming up with a solution. Yes... sounds like my home too. But I've been blessed with two. Eight seems like an opportunity to quickly lose hair and begin the wrinkling process earlier than necessary. So far, ok on those fronts in my household. I'll try to remember to check on those issues as each year passes... if I can remember to stop long enough to check again. Currently I'm telling my daughter, for instance, to not climb on me my while I type, while I also tell my son to put socks on his feet to keep the cold floor from influencing his immune system.

Ahh... I remember the moments of learning about how to put the diaper on correctly while swirling feet circle much too close to my face. Thank goodness that pins are only used as a choice nowadays to attach panels of cloth around a moving little person... I prefer the reattachable stickies. I still prefer them... even though the diaper era in this house has passed...

THANK you GOD, HE above, the SPIRITS that have moved us to demand to our children that the potty is not to be feared but accepted for the good that it does. Perhaps if my son and daughter had been pricked by diaper pins, I would have become more patient. Or perhaps I would have become more neurotic than I am currently.

At this point, children still seem like a blessing. Of course they are! Saying otherwise would seem un-natural. But should you run into a parent, who has been a parent longer than a month, and he / she tells you that parenthood comes without frustration or concerns... is missing the fact that being a parent makes one immediately vulnerable.

No longer can one be isolated from the zaniness of the world we live within, for now one has to be concerned with how to raise a little person in today's world. A world spinning toward chaos as some attempt to pull away toward simplicity while the rest fear jumping off any venture that moves them forward.

Having children, I suppose is having committed to being part of the future. Our legacy lives within them and the lives they will lead. What our children will pursue professonally seems far removed from today's activities... perhaps as much as having a child did not so long ago.

There is no going back for a redo with raising children. I make mistakes that I hope my children will better understand as they grow older. I think though that overall, my wife and I are doing a good job. The basics are covered: i.e.: roof, food, clothes, safety. The lessons of character regarding being sincere and honest have taken hold in them... another success. I have been told if my children have the characteristics of what makes a good person impeded within their psyche at a young age... the rest will turn out ok. I will trust that as a good direction to proceed.

I'm sure that as time continues... the challenges will change. Yes, we figured out how to do the diaper change in minimal time, even with the lights off at an ungodly hour in the morning. Of course now that we've figured out that overwhelming challenge as it seemed in the "how to change your child" class, that era has passed and we've moved on to Cub Scouts, dolls, millions (yes, number is verified) of pieces that move away from designated play area to the rest of our home. This migration scares me because regardless of my repeated attempts... the migration will not be stopped.

Check back soon for more ramblings on parenthood and the joys found within. Joys such as the unprompted hugs, the "I love you's" and the open arm embraces when they're picked up at the end of the workday. And while raising children certainly isn't cheap, they're right when they say those moments are priceless.

First Time

And so the story begins. After finally getting a facebook site to connect with friends, perhaps it's time to join so many others and create a voice on the web. Perhaps this will even turn into bigger things... like people actually logging in and seeing what I have to say. Hard to imagine. Perhaps I will begin with a few comments from the past to friends.