my pink life, mi vida rosada

is memorial day. I'm thankful for the blessings that living in the US brings me. I'm sorry that others had to lay down their lives for me to have this freedom. We had school today, making up for a day we missed in January. Lots of my kids missed it again today. I had 6 students show up. My partner teacher had 9. We put the groups together and switched off. It's the last week of school -- finally! We did about an hour of ELA, an hour of math, related arts, lots of time in the computer lab, lunch, recess, and watched Horton Hears a Who -- I love Dr. Seuss. Our kids studied him earlier this year and read a lot of his books since our school literacy night was Dr. Seuss themed. I'm not sure that it was an effective recovery of a day missed in January. You know, since state testing has already come and gone, and we've been finished with 3rd grade standards for a couple weeks now. I've been teaching 4th grade skills for a few weeks. My kids complain "...

On forgetting I'm joining in for Five Minute Friday at the Gypsy Mama . I'm so forgetful, it's ridiculous. I say I'm about to do something, and half a minute later I have already forgotten. There are other things, though, that are too hard to forget -- things that have hurt, mistakes I've made, things that were altogether too joyful. How can the everyday moments be so hard to hold on to? I don't really understand it -- but somehow the tiniest little things can slip in to the long term picture while the routines that make my days stable can disappear into the abyss without me so much as noticing that they have vanished. Today, instead of forgetting, I'd like to remember that when I drove through Pleasant View, I smiled at its name. I'd like to remember that even by myself in the car, I "raaaarrrred" at the lions. I'd like to remember that the most important part was getting down here as fast as I could, but I still slowed down to a cr...

field day. Gross. It's supposed to be more than 90 degrees outside while we are "having fun." I'm hoping that my kids can hold themselves together better than they have held themselves together for anything special all year long. Pray for me.

counting down the days -- 9 of them. School days, that is. sooooooooooooooooo excited to go to the beach by myself this weekend. covered in bug spray and deck stain. late for bedtime. in disbelief that sweet hubby painted more than I did. He hates to paint. full of chick-fil-a salad -- I actually ate the whole thing. And scraped the dish clean. happy it was 100 degrees hot today. Yeah, I might be crazy....but the good kind of crazy. wondering whether my kids' parents made a deal to have at least one of their poorly behaved devils absent every day until the end of school. One day, when I'm a parent, if my kid is on a behavior plan, I will purposefully save up his absences and give his teacher a break at the end of the year. And maybe right before winter break, too. feeling a little overwhelmed with how little I've thought about the end of the year and packing up. looking forward to tacos from the "taco traila" (read with a Spanish accent -- taco try-la) and ...

When seasons change... I like to see it in the color of the marsh grass. I like to feel it on my face in the warmth or coolness of the suns last rays. I want to smell it in the breeze, coming off the waterway. When seasons change, I like to think of the best of what is coming up. The dead, brown grass that slowly gets replaced by small green shoots come March, more and more until the brown is gone and only the green can be seen as if creating its own sea on the edge of the water. When seasons change, I like to see the sky change and the sunset reflect off the water the way it never does in the summer, pink and pinker and pinkest, outdoing itself in a blaze of glory. When seasons change, I like to see how many morning glories have made their way back up onto the dock, deep purple, and only for the lucky early risers to enjoy. When seasons change, I like to soak it up, because before I know the season is already changing again.

12. And tomorrow only half counts, because I'll be in a meeting all day and my kids will have a sub. 12 more days of the toughest group of kids that I can imagine. 12 more days of time-out for the kid who stomps his feet and yells "God, I hate this school. This school is so stupid." every time he doesn't get his way. 12 more days of hoping against hope that another kid doesn't do anything else sexually inappropriate. 12 more days of trying to get my lowest student to add one digit numbers together, while the rest of his class works on division skills. 12 more days of getting my most hyperactive kid to please calm down long enough to hear the instructions. 12 more days of trying to pretend that some other grade level is not at recess outside our window. 12 more days of trying to get to bed on time. 12 more days of packing my lunch. 12 more days of end of the year crazy schedules. 12 more days of endless IEP meetings. 12 more days of still working while sweet hubb...

deep breath (story of my weekend). I took a few of these as I stepped out of the car, into the humid air, smelled the welcome smell... Bonaparte Kingdom. Beach. With sweet hubby, daddy, mama, grandma, and my brother. Three more weeks of school, deep breath. Two days of bliss, deep breath. Ocean breeze, deep breath. Sitting in a room full of family members, no one talking, each absorbed in our own book. Deep breath. Mama's cooking. Deep breath. Wind blowing the hammock. Deep breath. Cold water high tide swim. Deep breath. Walk on the island with my dad. Deep breath. Water skiing. Deep breath. Hosing down the porch, doing laundry, packing up. Deep breath. Three more weeks of school. Deep breath. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif A weekend full of deep breaths, to get me through this next week. One of three. Deep breath. (I'm late, but linking up to the Gypsy Mama's five minute friday .)