SOLSC '19 Day Nine: It should be Spring Break

The chatter came to a halt at our leadership meeting when the enormity of my comment sunk in.

"Wait...daylight savings, "spring forward", is this weekend?"

The kindergarten lead sitting across the table stared/glared at me in stunned silence.  The fifth grade lead, noticing the look, said, "Chris didn't cause this...she's just the messenger...."  We all smiled, then returned to the topic at hand.

This is the first year (ever?) in our district that Spring Break did not coincide with the time change.  We've always had that week to transition, a week to get used to the earlier bedtimes and darker mornings.  

More importantly, the children had the week to get used to the time change.

We are already feeling the grumps of working a week later than many districts in our state--heck, many parts of the country.  My son came home from college last night to start his break, and he'll have the house to himself most of the day.  Now we get to try and teach children who are ready for a break themselves--and who may very well be tired, cranky little people due to the time change.

May God have mercy on us all next week.

SOLSC '19 Day Eight: The one that got away

One more week of work to go before our Spring Break (I think I can, I think I can...)

It's important to note the timing of this Slice.  One more week until Spring Break, which means this is March.  Seventy-three days since Christmas, and sixty-one days since Epiphany, when we stop celebrating Christmas in our house. 

(Side note: Did you know that you can get Google to count the days for you?)

Imagine my surprise when I shuffled into my dressing area the other night, turned on the lights, and saw this on my bedroom wall:

It took my tired brain a few seconds to process what I was seeing, and then find the source of the strange shadow:

Yes, there on top of the half-wall separating my vanity from the bedroom is a ceramic Nativity scene.  For awhile, I was unintentionally collecting Nativity sets, and have several that I display in various locations around the house for Christmas.  In the end-of-holiday-season cleaning sweep, I must have missed this one, blending in as it does with the walls behind it.  

The little statue is still up there, now covered in dust, possibly waiting for Seamus the leprechaun to leave a pot o' gold at baby Jesus' feet on St Patrick's Day--which is only nine days away, if you're counting.

SOLSC '19 Day Seven: Come for a picture, leave with some books

At the end of the day, they remembered what I had forgotten (even though I just sent the email yesterday).

"We're taking the Book Lunch Bunch picture, right, Ms Margocs?"

(Ooops, yes!)

They trickled in twos and threes, until eleven of the twelve were present. "Grab a book on the way to the Book Nook," I suggested.

"We're not even eating lunch," one mentioned, but I shrugged the comment off.  "We didn't have a chance to gather all the groups at lunch," I countered.

As we waited for my assistant, several of the students started talking about the books they had randomly pulled.  
"I didn't know we had a graphic novel of Snow White!"  
"Oh, I've read that, it's really good!"  
"Ms Margocs, do we have a second copy of Malala?" (Disappointed look when I said no.)
 "I'll check it out this time and share it with you," said the Malala holder (smile regained).

My assistant joined us in the Book Nook, and I took a seat on the lower bleacher with the students sitting behind.  Posed with our books, the pictures turned out great.

And then I headed back to the circulation desk to check out Snow White and I Am Malala, smiles on faces all around.  The joy of avid readers finding new books to read is infectious!

 

SOLSC '19 Day Six: I see kind people

We ate our traditional Mardi Gras pancake dinner at IHOP last night, co-celebrating my birthday with clink of mugs filled with decaf coffee.

We had a cheerful waiter, a young man who smiled from his eyes and checked on us just enough times.

A few rows down from us, an older couple sat together on the same side of their booth, the man in a newsboy cap, the woman with a shockingly full head of jet-black curls almost covering her eyes, talking and smiling.  A family was sitting behind us, and a few minutes after they left, the older gentleman scooped up a scarf they left behind and delivered it to them in the parking lot.

Separated by a half-wall of etched windows, the family next to us played games while they waited for their food.  Down the aisle from them, a father read something from his phone to his teenage son.  A younger father ate with his red-headed little girl, quiet and smiling.

I heard chatter in the foyer, and looked over my left shoulder to see a young boy dancing around, his sibling calling out from a baby carrier in not-yet-intelligible speech, their unperturbed mother conversing with another adult.

Our bellies full and our waiter generously tipped, we left the restaurant with contented smiles.
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During this SOLSC, I'm trying to be more observant of my surroundings, hoping to catch a story to tell.  Last night's observations are more vignette than tale.   

SOLSC '19 Day Five: Coffee ice cream in a plastic cup

It's my birthday today...but I basically celebrate all month long.  I began a few days ago by indulging in some coffee-flavored ice cream, a local store brand that adds chocolate chunks to the mix--heaven on a spoon.

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It's a summer day in Naples, Italy, and I'm pretty sure my mom has had it with our shenanigans in the house.  She tells us to pack our swimsuits and a towel, loads us up in the car, and heads for AFSOUTH, the military base where my dad works.

After my mother negotiates Italian traffic with aggressive driving tactics learned by necessity, we arrive at the base.  If it's brunch or lunch time, we get to eat at the cafeteria--yummy, greasy diner-style grub.  Next stop, the bookstore: a paperback Harlequin romance for my mother, and comic books for my brother and me.  Then it's off to the pool.

https://virtualglobetrotting.com/map/allied-forces-southern-europe-afsouth/view/google/

My mom settles in by the circular baby pool with its sloping sides, while my brother and I venture back and forth to the big pool.  When the heat gets to us, mom gives us some money to buy ice cream from the poolside snack shop.  My favorite flavor is coffee; it's served in a small, brown plastic cup with a handle.  Attached to the paper lid is a wooden spoon, offering up bites so tiny that it takes a quarter hour to finish the cup.

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Coffee ice cream: a delicious memory from 1974 and still a favorite way to celebrate, 45 years later.

SOLSC '19 Day Four: The sway

The baby cried out
Kicking, foot poking
Through a gap in the swaddling blanket
Of white, pink and blue

"You can love on him," the nurse said.

I redid his wrappings
Failing to contain that kicking leg
But no matter

I scooped him up
Left hand under his head
Right hand sliding under his body

To my left shoulder?
No, he wouldn't have it.

Lowering his head to the crook of my left arm
His body snuggled against 
The light blue of my volunteer scrub top

I began to move
First side to side
Then figure eight

The foot stopped kicking
His eyes open, looking at me
Before closing, succumbing to the sway.

Is there any better dance than this?

SOLSC '19 Day Three: What a difference support makes

Dressed in a red-and-white striped top with a bright red cardigan, I drove back to school  yesterday morning for our two Texas State Teacher Fellows' Saturday Seminar.  The breakfast opener was being held in my library. Since the event just happened to fall on Dr Seuss' birthday, they had decorated the space appropriately on Friday afternoon.

We were greeted at the library door by our kindergarten and first grade Fellow teachers,who were sporting fun Dr Seuss headbands.  The library was full of members from their program cohort, their professors, several representatives from our district's Central Office, and our own kindergarten and first grade teachers and administrators.  I thoroughly enjoyed my coffee, breakfast taco, Round Rock doughnut, and cinnamon roll while listening to the welcome speeches from the teacher mentor, district and campus administrators, and Fellows.  We made a cute notebook in the shape of the iconic Seussian cat-hat, and were directed to the first presentation in the classroom.

As familiar as I am with our Fellows--they visit the library with their classes every week, and I've supported them with both children's and professional book and material selections--I don't get to spend time observing my teachers in their classrooms.  I was blown away by their presentations.  From the looks of their classrooms, the routines and communities they have established, the effective teaching and learning strategies they modeled--they presented as experienced educators, not as the first-year teachers they are.

Sitting in the back row of seats in each room, I reflected on my own first year of teaching.  Alone in a portable, assigned no mentor, not even really knowing what questions to ask...I had to figure a lot out on my own.  These young women had a library full of people--classmates, professors, an on-site experienced teacher mentor, our own campus new teacher mentors, their teammates and administrators--helping them overcome every hurdle they encountered over what is arguably the hardest part of teaching: getting through your first year. 

What a difference support makes.  Perhaps our legislators, currently working on school funding yet again, should take note.