I have been the worst blogger, both intentionally and unintentionally. When the plate is full this is the first thing to be neglected and as week after week passed, my perfectionist self neglected it because of my imperfections. A colleague encouraged me a little less than a week ago to get back on the saddle and write - so here goes.
At times, I shy away because I feel guilty that I do not know the number of every single house bill that affects education. In reality, I feel like the athletes who are blocking out the media before the big game. In my world, every day is a big game.
We are knee deep in the fourth quarter. I had a parent ask me today if I am ready for summer. I said, "my body is but my heart not so much." She told me I could say yes and it would be okay. But it is the absolute truth - I've been planting and sowing seeds since August and this time of year is when all these growth spurts happen and I am selfish and want to reap the benefits of all the behind scenes planting, watering, sunshine, and transplanting in some instances.
A little one that has struggled all year with emotional regulation and still needs me to prod him along on most of his work. When we were working on plant labeling. I said "tear the bag and put your dirt on the paper". A few minutes later, he said, "there the dirt is on the paper." Well played, it's all these moments that make the planting meaningful. And yet, sometimes all the labors of love that go into one moment are lost in translation to everyone making decisions regarding planting.
They all grow immensely in different ways. The ones whose growth is reflected in assessments, I worry about a little less. The ones who I can tell you countless stories of things they can do now that they could not do in August or even January, I worry about them a little bit more.
We have been reading various versions of The Little Red Hen as we work on comparing and contrasting story elements and mapping them out. We listened to Cook A Doodle Doo and made shortcakes.
My littles blew me away with their connections far beyond the story content. They were talking about the characteristics of the pig, dog, and cow (in most versions) and how they didn't want to be like them. Others said, you know it reminds me of Cinderella because they made her do all the work which led to a conversation about the difference between folk tales and fairy tales that was not in the plans.
I felt immense pressure to get this bread right the day after we had been heart broken about our chicks. Failure is hard for all of us but I take it hard. I have been thinking all week about the why's behind that - because I know they need to see me deal with things don't go my way - even the bigger things. The daily mistakes I can model well but I have a hard time when my plan or vision is tested.
The girl who loves everything to be clean thinks that learning is messy. I knew at this point that the bread had not risen accordingly but followed through to see what would happen. I can pin point the mistakes we made - timing is everything and I put that yeast in when the mixture was still too warm because we had specials to get to on time.
Sometimes the end product is not always pretty but it's more about the content and the experience. I am pretty sure the Pioneer Woman would have cringed at the sight of our rolls. However, they were ours and we owned them.
The best part (and hardest part for my type A) of teaching is that I get to learn lessons or be reminded of lessons along the way. As I mapped out my general plan of this unit of study, I got out the incubator after taking a year off due to a bad hatch two years ago mid a hard season of life. I told myself it had to be better but began to really worry last week as day 21 approached and not a peep was heard. I called the source and they came out to candle the eggs which had stopped growing day 10. On the way to work that morning, I had told myself I was done and that I had failed. But when she asked if I wanted to try again, I found myself answering yes. When I picked my class up from lunch and had to share with them about what had happened, I also told them about my change of heart. One little one said, "because we don't give up" and in a nutshell that's why my perfectionist self who was a lot heart broken signed up for a second round that could very well have the same outcome.
At the end of the day, not everything that can be counted matters and not everything that matters can be counted. If I am being honest, sometimes I feel just like that Little Red Hen. "Who will help me educate these children?" and my governor and legislature continually respond with actions that say "Not I!"
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