Day 84: Don’t Have To

You don’t have to be bullied to call out a bully.

You don’t have to be right to point out a wrong.

You don’t have to be an artist to enjoy an art museum.

You don’t have to be a writer to keep a blog.

You don’t have to be a teacher to teach someone something.

You don’t have to be a musician to like going to concerts.

You don’t have to be shy to be quiet.

You don’t have to like kale to be healthy.

You don’t have to smile to be happy.

You don’t have to be brave to stand up for someone else.

But you probably already are.

Day 83: Boys and Girls

I think this graphic sums up me and my husband really well.

He gets “leaky” (his word) during a sentimental scene in a movie.

I have an incredibly loud speaking voice. (I was traveling with a group in a hotel, and people in the rooms at the other end of the hall could hear me talking.)

He holds our daughter so tenderly and talks to her while he is holding her or changing her diaper.

I am definitely more likely to get cranky when I am annoyed about something. Or if I am hungry. Or tired.

He is not an introvert, but he is definitely a quiet person. He prefers to work in silence.

I work with children all day, so of course I am silly. I played Simon Says with my class today, and we had to jump in a circle while patting our heads and rubbing our tummies. That one was hard!

He is such a talented artist. We took an art class together last year, and I was continually amazed at the quality of work he produced. My parents wanted a piece of his artwork to hang at their house. My parents.

As a teacher, I am definitely a leader. I can command a room easily, and I know when to pass on the decision-making to my students. I am an excellent delegator.

Our daughter is lucky enough to have inherited his lips and eyelashes.

I have been known to get angry enough about something that I will start crying. I tend to cry mostly when I am frustrated. That has happened while I read the newspaper.

I would say that we are both funny. And I am very scared of spiders. I don’t think he is afraid of anything…

We are a good match.

Day 81: Tears

I think it is so interesting that new babies do not cry with tears. I have to admit, I think it is kind of funny when my new daughter “cries” without any tears. It makes the whole thing seem highly melodramatic. Her face gets red, her eyes scrunch up, her mouth is in a perfect from. But no tears.

It also means that she can go from “crying” to eating or sleeping or being perfectly calm from one minute to the next, without there being any clues that she had just been upset. Very upset.

It will probably be a lot harder to watch her cry when she actually does produce tears. That will make it all seem a lot sadder. And not quite as theatrical.

If only we could translate those cries into spoken language. It would be much easier to soothe her.

Day 80: Couch

I have a few questions about this couch:

• How does it haunt?
• How do the owners know that it is haunted?
• How did it get haunted?
• Are we sure it is the couch that is haunted?
• What if the house or the owners are haunted instead?
• Why are the owners getting rid of it?
• Why did the owners publish the fact that the couch is haunted?
• Who will pick up a haunted couch on the street?
• What if the owners hadn’t said that the couch was haunted?
• How long would it take the new owners to realize that the couch is haunted?
• What if the couch isn’t haunted in its new digs?
• If the couch continues to be haunted, how long will it take the new owners to see its hauntings?
• How long will the new owners keep the couch?
• Will they announce that the couch is haunted the next time they try to get rid of it?
• How does one destroy a haunted couch?
• Would throwing it away work?
• Could you burn it?
• Will the couch be haunted forever?

Day 79: Dreams

This poem is a little enigmatic to me.

But one line stands out: “We can shape to the dreams of another; we are eager to yield.”

As a teacher, I encounter this on a regular basis. I have dreams for my students: academic, social, emotional. But my students also have dreams for themselves. And I try it to “yield” to their dreams as often as possible. It is so much more fun to travel along with someone who is excited about their dream than try to drag someone along on your dream. The best scenario is when we can get our dreams to line up. Then, teaching and learning is a pleasure.

When both you and your student realize that student’s strengths, and he/she is eager to develop them further.

When both you and your student realize that student’s weaknesses, and he/she is determined to grow.

I have also found this to be true in my marriage. Of course I still have my own dreams, but I am invested in my husband’s dreams and in our shared dreams for our family and future.

I don’t see it as forgetting my own dreams. I see it as adding more dreams unto my own.

Day 78: Emotion

Shame is a hot coal behind your eyes. It burns hot and fast, flaring up whenever you think about it. Shame stays with you forever, memories seared into your consciousness, clear as the day they happened. You’d rather forget about it and be free.

Joy is a warm sweater in the middle of winter. It keeps you warm, wrapped up in feelings, memories, and light. Joy will fill you up, until you feel like you will burst with happiness, light spilling out of your pores, lighting all of the dark corners in your life. You’d rather stay like this and be free.

Stress is an ornery sibling, poking you on a long road trip. It wheedles its way into every thought and action, increasing in intensity until you can’t think of anything else. Stress will make you miserable, sapping the joy out of every activity, demanding your attention until you can assuage it, like a very persistent puppy. You’d rather get through it and be free.

Day 77: Voices

The back-to-school voices in my head:

The Kind Grandmother: Your classroom looks amazing. Your students will learn and grow so much in this room. I love the cozy reading nook. I think your students will love it and read a lot of books here.

The Harsh Coach: You can get one more thing done before you leave. One. More. Thing.

The Memory Archivist: Aww, I remember when my students did these reflections last year. We were cleaning up the classroom at the end of the year, and they were so helpful and happy before we left for our field trip to the water park. I love seeing their messy handwriting. I miss them.

The Superhero: This is going to be the best year ever!

The Inner Child: I would’ve loved to have a room like this when I was in elementary school. I would want to read all of these books. I love how cozy the room feels when the lights are off, and we’re all huddled around our read aloud book. The white board table is perfect for math and drawing.

Day 75: The Hunger Games

This essay snippet reminds me of the first time I read The Hunger Games. I was living in India and found it as an audiobook on Audible. I started listening to it while I was going on a walk. As I was walking, I realized that I did not feel well and clearly remember sitting down near a park and listening to it with my head on my knees. I had to talk myself into getting up and walking back home because I was feeling so sick. I made it home, listening to the audiobook the whole time, totally engrossed with the story, and crawled into bed. I stayed in bed, listening to the story with the lights off until I finished it. I loved the drama, the romance, the world that was created, the characters, everything about the book. Despite the fact that I was sick for a week after that, I still have very fond memories of the first time I read The Hunger Games.

Oh, and I am definitely Team Peeta.

Day 74: Squirrel!

This photo raises a lot of questions for me.

1. How does this man know that it was a squirrel who did it?
2. What did this man do to the squirrel to deserve this?
3. How did the man get all of the pinecones out of his engine?
4. How did the man discover all of the pinecones?
5. How did the squirrel get into the engine in the first place?
6. Where did the squirrel get all of these pinecones?
7. How do they know that the pinecones weighed 50 pounds?
8. What does a squirrel need with all of these pinecones?

After reading the short news story, I only left with a few answers:

1. unanswered–seems to be making an assumption
2. unsure–apparently the squirrel got into the car while it was in storage; motive still unknown as the squirrel “declined [to] comment on the incident”
3. unanswered–just said that once they were cleaned out, the engine worked fine
4. surprise! found the pinecones after taking the car out of storage
5. unsure–maybe he was just really good at stuffing pinecones into the cracks and crevices of the car
6. unknown
7. also unknown
8. God only knows

Day 73: Portmanteau

I finally have my portmanteau: Spitilda!

My daughter, Matilda, is about 6 weeks old, and my mom and I accidentally created this nickname for her tonight at dinner.

My mom was holding her and passed her to my dad in order to finish her dinner. My dad called her something, and both my mom and I thought he called her “Spitilda”.

We thought this was funny because Matilda spits up a lot. A. Lot. Apparently I passed this onto her because I spit up a lot as a baby too (You learn a lot about yourself as a baby from your parents when you become a parent yourself.).

My dad actually called her “Miss Matilda”, but we decided that we liked Spitilda better.

Plus, it’s a much better nickname to embarrass her with when she is a teenager.