Just Hug IT Out

"Hey,.. what's the problem back there?  Do you two need to 'Hug IT Out?"  

As the school year winds down, the students are finding themselves more wound up.  It reminds me a bit of Festivus, when the Costanza family held the 'Airing of Grievances', with the idea to share with others the little things about other people that have been bothering them all year.  We've been having a little taste of the Festivus tradition in room 110.  In order to heal the wounds, I've been asking students if they need to 'Hug IT Out'.  So far,... only one taker.  Actually, it was one young girl who had an issue with a boy in her group talking too much.  When she aired her grievance to him in a rather harsh manor, "Stop talking!  You're so annoying!!", the young boy shot back with a quip of his own, "Shut IT!  Nobody likes you!"  

"Let's just simmer down now.  Do you two need to Hug IT Out?"  I offered the phrase of the day.

"Ewwww, NOOOOO!"  the young girl replied with a wrinkle to her brow.

"Gross!  Sick!"  yelped the boy as he slumped in his seat and pushed his chair back from the group as if the distance would help.

"I will!"  came this tiny voice from another little girl in the group seated to the right of the frustrated young lass.  With that she sprung with arms outstretched, wrapping them around her.  "I'll Hug IT Out with ya!"

As the frustrated girl was squeezed with a warm hug, a smile came across her face.  "See," I said, "Hugging IT Out is the way to go.  It releases all your tension and frustration."

The hugger-girl, with her eyes closed, head leaning against a shoulder, and arms wrapped firmly around the huggee, gave a bit of a smile and said, "Feels squishy."

I think everyone should have a 'squishy moment'.

Hannah update:  We are heading to Minnesota in June for a June 11 surgery.  The doctors are hoping to correct the deformed arm/hand, yet are not exactly sure what the surgery will bring as they cut through the grey-matter of radiated area.  

The Twist

"What are you doing?"  I had been reviewing the day to come with the class when I noticed one of my boys in an awkward position and a look of confusion on his face.  He had stuck his legs through the back of his seat, causing his body to have an unusual twist to it as the chair itself rocked backwards.  If you're a teacher, I'm sure you've seen this maneuver performed many times throughout a school year.  This is probably the reason that when I was a child, we had our chairs connected to the desk with a sturdy steel bar (they had all the answers back then).

By this time, I had lost the attention of the class as they looked at the boy writhing to free himself from his fate.  "Look away!"  he cried,  "I'm hideous!"  and with that declaration he gave into the fact that there was no returning from where he had gone - he went into a slow tipping motion that landed him face down on the carpet, legs still mangled in steel.  

"There is no cure for what you have,"  I told him as I helped him back to an upright position.  "Being you is just something that you're going to have to deal with for the rest of your life,...and I hope that never changes."

"Yeah.  I know... thanks,"  he got himself back to his desk and received the huzzahs from the boys around him - like a warrior returning victorious from battle.

This is what makes teaching so awesome!  The fact that after 15 years I can watch a student contort his body in a metal chair, then tip over landing in a heap on the floor, and not be phased one bit, but rather find the humor in it all - that's the fun of working with kids.

The other thing that makes teaching cool - you don't get to run these type of experiments in an office:

The Last Two Words

"Wait,...what?"   Two words that should never be put together after I'm done teaching a lesson,..unless it's May. 

It's tough enough teaching review lessons at this time of the year...  the sun is out, the warm breeze blows through the window, and I'm diving into new content in hopes of giving them a leg up for next year.  Just when I get to the end of the lesson and I ask, "Are there any questions because I'm going to have you do some problems?" that's when those two words send a slump into my shoulder area. 

"Wait,...what?"  the look on about a dozen faces leaves me wondering who said it.  They all seem to have the burned out look in their eyes.  "What are we suppose to be doing?" comes the voice of the brave person who admittedly wasn't paying attention.

It's the end of nine and a half month endeavor to cram knowledge into their brain, and I'm trying to squeeze more.  They would rather walk over a hot bed of coals then have to endure another math lesson - stand out in a lightning storm with a metal pole, then have to hear and discuss the finer points of prepositional phrases - or, clean their room at home before doing one more lesson in phonics.

That's when I realized that summer is only three weeks away.  A well needed 'wait,...what,...vacation!'  But before that, let's try and tackle some mixed number multiplication!

Bad Boys, Bad Boys

It's 7:35 as I head down the neighborhood street that leads to my school. Normally, at this time of year, I would preface my arrival by the sound of the pipes of my Harley; yet, as Spring in Michigan would have it, 35 degrees doesn't sound like much of a ride to work, so I was in the ever-sporty family van. As I approach the parking lot, I glance up from adjusting the morning news station to see a police officer sitting in the parking lot with a bead on the incoming traffic. A double take as I pass him, I notice his radar gun at the ready to nail any unsuspecting parent who may have already begun the day off on the wrong foot, thus leading to the quickened drop off - let's make matters even better by ticketing them in the parking lot of the elementary school in front of all the other parents.

I don't really know what came from the stakeout on school grounds, but I'm fairly certain our local officer didn't have one of the tougher assignments of the morning, "Excuse me ma'am, but you were doing 27 in a 25 and I notice your 8 year old isn't properly strapped down. That will be $200."

As for me,... thank goodness I was messing with the radio and puttering along way below the allowed speed. I could just hear it now,..."Remember that time Mr. Kelly was sitting in the back of the squad car before school? I wonder if it will ever be on COPS?"

Change of Days

"All right, it's Friday!" the kids keep reminding me as the day gets under way. You can feel the excitement in the room build with each tick of the clock as it moves closer and closer to that magical hour of 3:25 - the end of the day bell.

I have a different take on Fridays for the the next seven weeks. For Friday to me just means working all day followed by class at night ... then back up again on Saturday and back to class. I remember when Friday meant fun, freedom, and a weekend filled with friends around a fire.

Last night I decided to make Thursday my new Friday for now. If I can't have Friday on Friday than why not just move it and call it Friday. My issue then becomes changing Friday to something like a Monday - after all, Monday's typically seem to drag on longer than most days, and with teaching all day and grad class at night, this day definitely drags on. So it's settled, Monday is now the old Friday, Thursday is the new Friday, and Monday becomes a second Sunday which means I simply change my lesson plans to read nap time for the rest of the year, because Sunday is a day of rest after all.

Foto Friday

Ethan Grove

Fat Bands, Clear Scans

"Hannah Kelly!" came the call from the desk.

We had all pretty much kept to ourselves for the past hour - like a hungry group of people sitting down for a meal. You're all sharing the same experience, but nobody can talk about it until the basic needs are met. That pretty much described us. We were all together, but for the most part, not really sharing our thoughts aloud - mainly because our basic needs were not being met,..not until 5:30 when we sat down with Dr. Laack to hear the news of the tests.

As Hannah and Kim got up to go back to the room to see Dr. Laack, Hannah finally tells Kim, "Mom, if God's plan is for me to go with one arm, then I can do that. I just hope that's not his plan."

As we listen to the results (after Kim rocketed off the floor), it was explained that the fullness in Hannah's wrist was a result of the fat bands from the tendons being pushed further out due to the hand being pulled down and in.

Time to relax and celebrate! This will definitely make the rest of our doctor visits tomorrow seem a whole heck of a lot easier.

Thanks for your prayers.

Birthday Bash

Nothing says distraction like a party.

We arrived in Rochester yesterday afternoon to find no room at the Ronald. For those of you who aren't up with protocol, you can't call ahead and reserve a room at the Ronald McDonald House. You have to physically stand before them when they give you the yes or no on room availability.

"Well?" I asked Kim as she opened the van door after being the designated one to check on possible room openings.
"We're number 13 on the waiting list. There's little hope of getting a room," she replied. "Let's head to the Hucke's."

Normally, if you don't get in at the RMH, they have a list of hotels for you to go through to see if they have any rooms available. Most hotels in the area work with the local houses, such as the Ronald, and will often offer a room at a discount to help out families staying in the the area.

It was Daniel's 13th birthday yesterday, so this would be perfect for a fun, relaxing evening before scans and tests today. A little hair straightening, dancing, cake, and cooking dinner over the fire made for a perfect evening in Minnesota. It also gave us a chance to get some quality photos of the birthday girl enjoying some delicious BBQ chops:

Happy Birthday Ya Teenager!

We drove into town this morning to get things underway - paused for a family prayer and began the morning with a CT and blood work. Ahhhh, back in the Mayo swing of things. We will hope to have information regarding the tests by early evening.