A Devilish Good Time

We had a good Halloween! We went down the street to Luke's sitter's house, then back to our house to pass out candy. Luke really enjoyed passing out the candy and loved putting one in each kid's bag.

Bad Mama

Last night I took a page from the Bad Mama Handbook, and it was SO good. Usually we start our bedtime routine at 7, and it involves bath, then I nurse and rock Luke for awhile before putting him in his crib. But last night, I ignored the clock, and I ignored quiet time before bed. Instead, we shrieked and giggled. We blew raspberries on each other. We ran and laughed until our sides hurt. We talked about dinosaurs and practiced our best ROARs. We even jumped on the bed.

I got into the shower later than usual, and I made my way into bed much later than usual, but every minute was worth it for the side-splitting laughs and the joy of just being us.

Lately, he has started to look at me and say, "My Mama," and it makes my heart grow larger than I thought possible, because nothing, nothing in this world could be better than being his.

Wordless Wednesday: Pickin' Pumpkins!

Luke's first hayride and trip to a pumpkin patch!










I couldn't choose and had to post them all..

Monkey See...

Shane and I are very careful about what we do and say in front of Luke, knowing that children imitate so much. Unfortunately, Shane sometimes forgets this and teaches Luke fun little things, like sticking food to his forehead. Every now and then, though, we have an "uh-oh" incident where he imitates or says something that he most definitely should not, but that we just never thought of.

This morning, I was getting ready for work. I had to commandeer use of Shane's bathroom due to him ALWAYS stealing my hair wax. I did my hair, then bent over the sink to wash the wax off my hands. Shane was standing behind me, and Luke was right outside the door playing with his chalk table. As I was washing my hands (thoroughly, because who wants styling wax all over their hands!?), I felt a hearty smack on my derriere. I turned around to jokingly admonish Shane, and he just smiled and pointed down at our little monkey who had an upraised hand and a VERY proud grin on his face.

We definitely started out the day with quite a laugh, but let me assure you that there will be no more butt smackin' in my house. At least, not in front of the kid!

All Good Things Must End

And that saying, unfortunately, applies to Fall Break. Initially, our plans involved traveling to Kentucky with Shane's grandma, but those plans fell through at the last minute due to Grandma being a little under the weather. I must say that a big part of me was relieved at the thought of not kicking off my long weekend with an 8 hour car ride, although I'm sure we would've had a great time.

Thursday, Shane had to work a half day, so Luke and I went to the outlet mall with my parents. As someone who loves to shop sales, my love for outlet malls knows no bounds. I spent way too much money, but I picked up some Christmas presents, clothes for Luke, and some really cute work clothes at the Banana Republic outlet. We ate lunch at the Chocolate Cafe, where I had an amazing white chocolate hot chocolate! It was a really fun day. My dad mostly chased Luke around while my mom and I shopped. Luke loved being outside, of course, and I had a really wonderful time with my parents.

Shane was off all day Friday, so we started out cuddling in bed with Luke, then we ate a nice breakfast. After that, we just relaxed on the couch.

Friday early afternoon, my friend Tammy and I had facial appointments. I got a Dead Sea facial treatment. I don't really have trouble with blemishes, but I felt like my skin needed some brightening. It was so wonderful and relaxing, and the spa was very accomodating in doing our facials at the same time.
After the facials, I dropped Tammy off, then went home where Luke was napping. After his nap, we went to a pumpkin patch. It was Luke's first time at a pumpkin patch, as last Halloween, he was only eight months. This pumpkin patch includes a free hayride out to the pumpkins. Luke was enthralled by everything and loved picking out a pumpkin! He started crying when we left, I think he would've stayed there all night!

Saturday morning, we did our usual trip to the grocery store, but instead of grabbing a quick breakfast, we went to a local bagel place and enjoyed bagels and coffee before heading to the store. While at the grocery store, I discovered that Prairie Farms makes CANDY CANE flavored milk. Hello, Prairie Farms people, I don't know how long you've been making this product, but you've seriously made the world a better place.
I had planned to run errands when Luke went down for a nap, but I really didn't feel like doing a lot, so I just stayed here and took a bath, which was an A+ decision on my part. As for today, we don't have any plans other than to just relax and spend time with another. It's been such a lovely Fall Break, and I hate to see it end! I honestly cannot imagine a better way to spend time than with my two favorite boys in the whole wide world, the three of us cuddling in bed together every morning, laughing and playing silly games. Lately I've felt so much negativity in the world around me that I needed this reminder of how positive life can be if I just let it.

The Politics of Hate

My nails are bitten to the quick as I wait for the election season to end. Not necessarily because I'm anxious over the outcome (although I am), but because politics can bring out the worst in people. I dislike how politics can be so polarizing. I have strong political beliefs, but when it comes down to it, what I want for my friends is for them to support someone and to be able to say why they support that someone--without attacking the other candidate. Do I like it when people have the same political views as me? Well, sure! Who doesn't like similarities? But do I hate or disrespect someone who doesn't have the same political views as me? Absolutely not. As I said, so long as they can intelligently support themselves, I'm happy. I understand that there are times when a political discussion may get heated, and I'm okay with that, too. Within reason, though, as we recently established a no politics rule with Shane's parents because the heated discussions were ruining peaceful family time.

As I'm typing this, I am hoping that it doesn't cause anyone to stop reading my blog. I support Obama. And if you support McCain, I still love you and your blog, PROMISE! I live in a very small, conservative town. We have an Obama sign in our front yard, and I can tell you quite honestly, that we are the only people in this town with an Obama sign. My husband and I joke about how after we put our sign up, suddenly 20 McCain signs popped up in the streets surrounding ours. And that's okay. I'm glad to see that our neighbors take interest in politics, as well, because in past elections, we've been the only ones with a yard sign! We also joked about how long the sign would stay in our yard before someone stole it, but deep down, we were both hoping that nothing would happen to it.

Over the past week, I've noticed the sign is bent toward the grass when I return home. Every night, I straighten it up, and I assumed the wind was blowing it over, although I did mention to Shane that it was interesting how the sign for a local congressman was always straight. Until yesterday morning, when Luke and I were playing in the living room. The school bus stop is located at the end of our driveway, so the kids usually run through our yard and play in the mornings. Usually, Shane and I are both gone, but I've noticed this in the past when I've been home for various reasons. As we were sitting there, I heard a little voice scream, "I HATE OBAMA!!" I thought, No way. Surely I heard that wrong... but as I looked out the window, I saw a sweet little girl in a puffy pink coat screaming this as she ran across our yard and repeatedly jumped up and down on our sign. And whether it's a sign supporting Obama, McCain, or the Man on the Moon, I would hope a child wouldn't be driven to destroy it.

Destruction of my property aside, this sight turned my stomach. Do I care that this girl's parents obviously do not support the same political candidate? No, I don't. But what I do care about is that this girl's parents are saying things in front of her that would make her so crazed to say these words and carry out these actions. I am hoping beyond all hopes that her parents don't know what she's doing to our sign every morning, but I wish they knew the power of their words. Growing up, my parents had strong political views, and I certainly knew them. But I never knew of any wrong words toward the opposing party, at least not as a child. Did she mean her words? Oh, I'm sure she didn't, but should a little girl say she hates someone, someone she's never met? And please know that I realize this type of hatred isn't just limited to one political party, I would be hurt just as much to see a child screaming "I HATE MCCAIN!"

I was taught a lesson as a parent. Children are sponges. You can teach them to read and ride a bike, and you can also teach them to hate. And when I woke up this morning, our Obama sign had been stolen from our front yard. So much for freedom of speech.

Can You Feel the Love?

I have two items of importance! Wait, I have three items of importance. First, I am on FALL BREAK, which means a glorious four day weekend. Can you hear the choirs of angels singing? My plans are to hit up the outlet mall today and to get a facial tomorrow.

Second, remember how I said that we might be in the newspaper for the Jacques Pepin luncheon we attended? Here we are! In case you don't yet recognize me, we're the couple in the second photo, and my husband is ridiculously excited to be standing next to his idol. Check out my sweet quote at the bottom. Thankfully, no one has busted us out for missing work that day. At least this article is much less shocking than the time Shane told a reporter that I was pregnant, and then it ran in the newspaper BEFORE WE HAD TOLD MOST OF OUR FAMILY. I received no less than a million phone calls THAT day, thanks honey!

And last, but certainly not least, the fabulous Sharon @ Mom Generations gave me an award! This is noteworthy because I absolutely adore Sharon. Not only is she an amazing writer, but she's also gorgeous AND is a former English teacher who is always offering me sage advice on how to avoid strangling my students.

I am pleased to pass this award on to seven fabulous bloggers who I totally love, so please go check them out if you haven't already!

1. Renee @ Cutie Booty Cakes
2. Jenni @ Jiggety Jigg
3. Cassie @ Southern Domestic Goddess
4. Erin @ A Peach Livin' In the Evergreens
5. Candi @ It's My Life
6. Maricris @ Zen Ventures
7. Mel @ A Box of Chocolates

Rules:

1) Add the logo of the award to your blog
2) Add a link to the person who awarded it to you
3) Nominate at least 7 other blogs
4) Add links to those blogs on your blog
5) Leave a message for your nominees on their blogs!

Wordless Wednesday: Mommy's Little Monster

Of course, Mommy's little monster would not hold still for a photo, so go to nonny & boo to check out how amazingly cute the monster hoodie is!

Hot For Teacher

Sharon recently wrote about the moment where your life changed, where you were set on a path to meet your significant other. Not only did her story make me smile, but it made me think about MY story.

When people ask how I met my husband, I usually take a deep breath to stall for time, then say, "HewasmySeniorEnglishteacherbutwedidn'tstartdatinguntilaftergraduation
ISWEAR." And yes, I say it all in one breath just like that. Eight years after the fact, it shouldn't be scandalous because obviously, OBVIOUSLY, we've withstood the test of time. But you know what? I still get raised eyebrows over it and some untoward comments. Although equally, I get people who exclaim that it's such a cool story. In fact, I even got to share my story on the radio once, which was pretty funny, until I got to work and realized that my STUDENTS all listened to it on the bus. Double in fact, you can download and listen to my 5 minutes of fame! You should listen to it just for the dangling participle joke.

When I registered for classes my Senior year, Shane was not on my schedule. In fact, neither myself nor my friends had ever had Shane as a teacher. I was always in Honors English courses, as were many of my friends. Senior year, however, I didn't take Math or Science (it was SWEET), and instead, took three or four English classes, one of which was Themes in Lit. Two weeks before school, my schedule had a female teacher for Themes in Lit, but on the first day of school, I was given a new schedule with Shane for Themes in Lit. I remember being so annoyed because I was supposed to have class with a bunch of my friends with a teacher I knew and liked, and instead, I was stuck in a class with no one I knew with some guy I'd never met. When I walked into his room, I remember noticing his bright blue eyes and thinking, Hmm, maybe this won't be so bad. Themes was only a semester course, and as the semester went on, I developed a crush on him, partially because he was always complimenting my writing skills, but also because he was witty and we had a great deal in common. Oh, and those eyes. As the semester drew to a close, I did a very un-Erin like thing. I went to my guidance counselor with a fib about how I planned on majoring in Drama in college, and even though Drama was a yearlong course, was there any way I could transfer into Shane's drama class second semester? She bought my story, and of course, Shane gave her his approval to allow me into the class. Drama was a much smaller class, and we had a lot more time to talk. I'm going to be honest here... I flirted with him, a lot, but he never returned the flirting, not once.

As the school year came to a close, I invited him to my graduation party. Much to my surprise, he was the first one there! He didn't stay long, but he gave me a card in which he wrote a great deal. He said that I was beautiful, smart, and funny and that you so rarely find such a thing. He said he was going to miss me, and he hoped we could stay in touch. I wrote him a thank you note and included my phone number, saying that I'd love to go out for lunch before I left for school. He began visiting me at work, and finally in August, he asked me out. Our first date was amazing. We went to Chicago and visited museums and the aquarium. We spent the entire day together, and we've been together ever since. And yes, we played "Hot For Teacher" at our wedding reception!

That was my moment. A twist of fate, a change in the schedule, and I walked into my future husband's life. In all my years of school, my schedule was never changed, not once. I was never given any explanation for the change, but I am so thankful for it.

My Inability To Stay Upright

Yesterday was quite the interesting day. My husband and I played hooky to go to a PBS sponsored luncheon at the Blackstone Hotel in Chicago. While I could care less about cooking and anything of that nature, my husband is a huge fan of Jacques Pepin. The tickets for this luncheon included book signing, a 3 course meal, and a question/answer session. This is not the first time we've been to a Jacques Pepin event, as my husband is definitely the Jacques Pepin version of a Deadhead--if there is such a thing! We went to a similar event four years ago in Chicago, where we met a woman our age who is also a huge Jacques fan. We ended up being in line behind her for the book signing, and she turned around and recognized us, so that was neat. We got our books signed, then headed for our assigned tables.

(It may appear that my husband is sporting a man purse, but it was a bag for the books.)
We ended up being seated at the "press" table, next to a reporter from one of our local newspapers. She ended up taking notes on several things we told her and wrote down our phone number, as well as snapping a photo of us with Jacques, so when that article comes out in two weeks, we may both be busted for skipping work yesterday.

After lunch, it was my turn to do something fun, so we trekked several blocks north to North Michigan Ave, where all the shopping is. We ended up at Neiman Marcus because I really wanted to pick up the new Bobbi Brown Shimmer brick. When we got there, it was slow, so the makeup artist offered to do my makeup. I'm never one to pass up pampering, so I said sure, and hopped into the chair. Now is probably the time to mention that I'm hypoglycemic, so if I don't eat OR if I eat foods that are heavy or rich, my blood sugar gets crazily out of whack. Unfortunately, yesterday's lunch fell into the latter category. As I was sitting in the chair, I felt myself breaking into a cold sweat. I took a few deep breaths, but I figured out what was going on. I asked the girl if there was a bathroom nearby, knowing that usually cold water on my wrists will help until I can get sugar or cold water. She said the nearest bathroom was on the third floor.. and I was on the first. I said I didn't feel well, got up out of the chair, and made it about ten steps before I started to see black spots. I waved Shane over near me, grabbed onto the counter, and lowered myself as gracefully as I could while everything went black. It is really a horrible to feeling to know that you're losing control and can't do anything about it! I came back to pretty quickly, but kept my head between my knees for awhile. The security guard came running over, and when Shane explained, he said he was hypoglycemic, too, so he understood. They got me cold water, candy, and the girl doing my makeup misted me with face spray, so that helped!

Everyone was really understanding, but I was so embarrassed. It is so completely typical of me that instead of fainting in the middle of a Taco Bell, I'd choose to faint in not only the swankiest department store there is, but the ultra-swanky four story one on Michigan Avenue! After I felt better, I got back in the chair and let her finish my makeup, while joking that now she'd have a story to tell. I was so embarrassed and grateful for how nice everyone was that I ended up leaving with not only the shimmer brick, but foundation, two eye shadows, two lip glosses, a 6-pan palette, AND buffing grains. Yes, I'm ridiculous, and yes, I am banning myself from buying any new makeup for the rest of the year!

I'm much less embarrassed today, as I know I'll never see any of those people again, but I definitely wanted to crawl under a rock yesterday. And certainly, it would've been more embarrassing if the fainting would've been due to drunkenness, so I am thankful for it being my blood sugar. So tell me, what has happened to you that's embarrassing? Bonus points if it involves fainting!

Remember Those Days?

Yesterday, I did Homecoming dance makeup for the daughter of a co-worker, and my friend Sue did her hair. Although I felt awful about leaving my very sick little baby for awhile, it was fun. This was her first formal dance with her first real boyfriend, and she was so cute. She was so giddy and silly that I had to keep reminding her to hold still while I was applying makeup. She just could not stop smiling, and although I was jokingly yelling at her, I couldn't stop smiling either. When I do bridal makeup, I never get to see the finished product. Sometimes I get to see the hair done, but obviously, I never get to see the whole package. This was great because I got to see her put on the dress, and I stayed to see her date arrive.
Her three younger sisters all sat in the background and teased her, while asking about all the makeup I was using (they were really fascinated by the purple Smashbox primer!). I let her borrow the Bobbi Brown lipstick that I used, telling her to remember to reapply after dinner and before pictures! Sue made her blush by telling her that she needed to reapply if it got smooched off, too. That first kiss hasn't happened yet, or at least, it hadn't yesterday afternoon! It made me think about that first kiss, though. I was a relatively late bloomer (by today's standards!) and got my first kiss freshman year. I went on a date with an older boy, and we went to Fazoli's, and then to the movies. After ward, we kissed twice in my driveway, before he made the joke that he should let me go inside before my dad came outside. That was my only date with him, as I learned shortly thereafter that he was making the rounds of freshman girls. I was bitter for a little while, but mostly, I was happy that I finally knew what that kissing thing was all about--though I'll admit that I never REALLY got kissing until the first time I kissed Shane. Now THAT was a first kiss to remember! What about your first kiss? I'm a hopeless romantic who wants details!

I forgot about those giddy times, getting ready for a dance, of hopes of a first kiss and a special slow dance. I forgot what it felt like to be all done up and slip into a beautiful dress, feeling like, for the first time, those awkward pre-teen days were behind you and you might just be beautiful. And oh, let me tell you, she was.

We were working hard!

This is my "makeup is SERIOUS BUSINESS" face

Her mom putting on her necklace


Isn't she so cute??

And more importantly, aren't THEY so cute?

Precious Moments

Today's precious moment does not involve any of MY students, as they've been anything but precious as of late. One of the cutest and sweetest things about my school is that we don't just shove the special education kids in a corner, as I've seen done at many schools. My principal is a former sped teacher, so I'm sure this has something to do with it. Every morning, he greets the kids at the bus, then walks in holding their hands and singing with them. It is, honestly, the sweetest sight you'll see.
Today, he was out of town for a meeting, so they were on their own. I was coming back from supervision duty when one girl came running up and grabbed my hand. Suddenly, I was surrounded by all these sweet, smiling kids, and what could I do but smile along with them? I was holding a hand on one side, then on the other side, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I looked, and there was a boy with the world's biggest grin on his face.... and somehow, I'd sprouted bunny ears! I laughed and said, Are you giving me bunny ears? He laughed the biggest belly laugh I've heard in awhile and said, YEAH! I walked them to their class, and I got hugs and more bunny ears before I continued upstairs.

I couldn't stop smiling, because the kids in their sweet silliness, made me stop and laugh. They made me forget about testing and discipline problems and all of the other garbage that's been weighing me down. They reminded that sometimes? You just need to come up behind someone and surprise them with a totally awesome pair of bunny ears.

Ghosts

Ghosts come in many shapes and forms. There are the ghosts of our pasts, the memories we'd like to forget. There are the ghosts of chance, a missed moment or a risk not taken, that leaves us wondering "What if..." There are the ghosts of those we've lost, those times when you see the back of a head in a crowd and think, "Hey, is that?" before remembering that they're gone from our world. Then there are ghosts, those of the supernatural, "things that go bump in the night" variety.

If you ask me if I believe in ghosts, I'll tell you that I don't know. I say I don't know because I don't want to say no and have a ghost prove me wrong, but also because I simply don't know. I believe that when a person dies, energy can be left behind. For this reason, I could never knowingly live in a house in which a violent death occurred. Not because I think a vengeful ghost would wake me up in the middle of the night, tossing wine glasses at my head, but because I believe that in the instance in which a life is ended with rage or fear, surely something must linger. But what that something is, I don't know. I grew up in a house that was built in 1841. A house that likely saw many more births and deaths than any house will today. In my parents' orchard, the old outhouse is still standing, and I grew up knowing that someone died in there, with his feet propped against the door, so that the door had to be torn off to remove his body. If some part of us is left behind after death, I certainly hope he hasn't had to spend all of eternity trapped in an outhouse. In high school, my friends and I would always go to a local cemetery, an old Gypsy graveyard, hoping to see something scary. We succeeded only in scaring ourselves. In college, we would make trips to a cemetery, out in the middle of a state forest, where the surroundings were perhaps scarier than any ghost could have been. In all those trips, I never found an answer or had an experience that made me move past my thoughts on ghosts, my status of simply not knowing.

Statistic says that 1/3 of Americans believe in ghosts, yet when you ask someone a question of the supernatural variety, the inevitable answer--whether or not they're in that 1/3--is, "Well, there was this one time..." My one time happened when I was around seven. I was in my bedroom playing with Barbies. I never liked the cheap plastic hairbushes that came with the dolls, so I always used this green wire-bristled hair brush. To this day, this memory is startlingly clear. I was brushing the dolls' hair, and I set the hairbrush slightly behind me to dress the dolls. After dressing Barbie in a cocktail gown of some variety, I wanted to make a few last minute adjustments to the hair. I felt behind me for the brush, couldn't find it. I turned around and didn't see it, so I remember thinking that I likely knocked it in between the bed and wall. I peered into the slightly gloomy space between and didn't see the hairbrush, deciding that it had fallen all the way under the bed. I remember thinking that I should ask my mom to help me, but at that moment, all I wanted was to fix Barbie's hair, so I headed downstairs to get a new brush. As I opened the cabinet in the bathroom, I caught a flash of green. I opened it further and there was the green hairbrush, the one I'd just been using. We didn't have two green hairbrushes, and I knew it was the one I'd had, the one I'd set behind me. But how? I didn't take it, I didn't go back upstairs, instead I walked outside, into the bright sunshine. To this day, I still wonder what happened. Childhood's logic can be simple some times and memory can be faulty, so perhaps there's a part of the story I'm forgetting. Yet, that memory has stayed with me all these years, clearer than any other childhood memory, simply because I do not understand it. I do know that that is my story, that it is not dramatic and does not involve a light leading me from a burning car, or a hitchhiker that disappeared in front of a cemetery. Still, it is my story, the one that makes me wonder, the one that longs for a rational explanation, yet in all these years, I cannot seem to find one.

Entry submitted to Scribbit's October Write-Away Contest.

Is It Your Mother, Sister, Aunt, Cousin, or Friend?

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month, something very near to my heart. As I've said before, I love the color pink. I own many pink items, and not just because of the color. I buy them because many companies market pink items that give a kick back to the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Not only am I buying items with my favorite color, but I'm making a donation, as well. I give money to this cause because this year alone, breast cancer will take an estimated 40,000 women, and another 182,000 will receive the diagnosis. I support this cause for those women, but mostly, I support this cause for Betsy and Barb.

When I was in 8th grade, I dealt with death for the first time. Betsy was someone I knew my entire life, literally. She and my mom met when they were both pregnant. Betsy's daughter was born two days after me, and I can't remember a time they were not in our lives. Betsy and my mom did Girl Scouts together, we went on trips together, held garage sales together, and we were as close as any people not related by blood can be. One afternoon when I was in 6th grade, Betsy's daughter called our house and asked if my mom if she knew where her parents were. She got from school and no one was there, no note, or anything. My mom didn't know, and shortly after, her parents returned home. For the first time in my life, I heard the phrase "found a lump" as it was revealed where they were. For the next two years, Betsy fought. She lost her hair, she lost her breast, and then finally, she lost the fight. I remember the afternoon I found out. I overheard my mom on the phone, and I knew before she even came upstairs to tell me. I still miss her, and more than anything, I hope for a cure, so no other girl will have to lose her mom at an age when girls NEED their moms (whether they admit it or not).

Barb is a dear friend with whom I was lucky to teach with for two years. She was my team leader my first year of teaching, and when we split to two middle schools, she stayed, and I transferred across town. I don't see her as much as I'd like, but we try to set aside dinner dates! Barb is hilarious. She has such a dry sense of humor that sometimes, it takes a few minutes for what she said to settle in... and then, you're usually laughing so hard you're crying! A few months into my first year of teaching, Barb told us at our team meeting that she was going to have to start undergoing chemo for her breast cancer. I then learned that she'd been fighting it for a long time and that it would go into remission for awhile, then return. I learned that it had spread to other parts of her body. I also learned that she is stronger than any other human being I have ever met, hands down. Every Monday, Barb would have to take the afternoon off to go to chemo, but that is the ONLY day she'd miss. She came to school when her hair was falling out, when her nails peeled, and when she was so sick that she could hardly keep down Saltines. And you know, what we do.. it's not easy. When the kids would complain about Barb being grouchy one day, I wanted to smack them, because they just had no idea. Barb is not someone who lets you pity her. She is very private, and so, we never talked much past the surface, but every now and then, we'd move past the jokes, and I'd let her know how much I admired her utter strength. And I do. Barb is my hero, and I want a cure for Barb. One Christmas, I told her I'd buy her a car, and she said, How about a cure? I would trade just about anything to be able to give that to Barb.

For Barb and Betsy and all those other women, protect yourself. Examine your breasts, get yearly checkups, and if you're in an at-risk group, start mammograms early. Exercise. If you have a child, try to breastfeed. Did you know that breastfeeding benefits mama, too? The numbers are so staggering, so great, that it's easy to believe that our lives have all been touched by this disease. So, who is your breast cancer survivor, hero, or angel?

A Little Testy Today...

Can I just state unequivocally that I hate standardized tests? In the state of Indiana, we give the ISTEP once a year in the fall. Fine, I understand that we do need to measure student progress and learning; however, with the introduction of No Child Left Behind (and don't even get me started on that) a few years back, the tests have grown and grown.

Indiana is switching ISTEP testing from the fall to the spring. This means that this year, we have to give it twice to ensure that progress is measured accurately. Fine, I understand that it has to happen like that, but to make it worse, we are now giving another test called Acuity. Acuity is given FOUR times a year, and it is done to measure how students will do on the ISTEP test. Oh, yes, you read that right, we are now testing the kids to see how they will do on a test.

It frustrates me to no end. I'm losing I don't know how class time to these tests, not to mention that it burns out teachers and students. While there are some merits to the Acuity test, in that it can show me what areas students are struggling, I feel the tests are flawed. For one, the tests are given on the computer, despite my team arguing for paper/pencil test. I think online tests are AWFUL. For one, when kids are on a computer, they tend to just CLICK CLICK CLICK and be done. Trust me, I saw it done today. For another, it is detrimental to kids who are struggling readers. I encourage kids to follow along under a line of words with their pencil or finger. You can't do that on a computer. Perhaps it's more environmental, and trust me, I'm all about being green as much as possible, but in this case, I prefer to use paper. Then there's the sheer fact of the loss of class time! We had shortened class periods today due to the testing, so instead of spending an entire 45 minute class period on Characterization, over which students will be quizzed, I rushed through the notes in 20 minutes.

I don't normally vent my frustrations on public education, because I love my job, and I hate to add to some of the already negative connotations when it comes to public education, but something has got to give with the testing.