The 9 year old card shark

Last night, when the older boys were out acting like a bunch barbarians on the ice (aka playing hockey), “K” and I enjoyed some mom and son time together.  Since it was late at night, I had thought we would climb into bed, read a few books and discuss the recent downturn in the American economy (good times, good times).  “K”, on the other hand had other ideas.  Like any good “G” boy would, he wanted to play blackjack - betting and all. I love my children with all my heart, and I am always looking for teachable moments in our daily activities. However, I wasn’t sure if swindling him out of his allowance money would fall into the “life lesson” category.  But when he pulled out the cards, poker chips and starting laying down the ground rules (dealer draws on 16 and stands on all 17’s, house pays 3 to 2, etc), I knew he was no rookie.  When he asked if I wanted a complimentary drink from the bar, I knew the gloves were off!

Still clinging to hope that we could incorporate some learning into the dealings, I convinced myself that math  was somehow involved.  And it was.  He had to add up the numbers, calculate bet amounts and figure out a payment plan for the money I borrowed from him. But because he's still only 9 years old, he needed help with the numbers. Not being the stealthiest kid around, he did his counting aloud. While I was waiting for my drink refills, he would sneak in some finger counting - so freakin cute.  And despite his numerical troubles, he still won. Actually, to say he won would be a huge understatement, kicked my butt is more like it.  And the little jig he did as he walked away, tells me he was relishing in his victory a little too much.  This definetely turned into a life lesson - for ME!  Never trust someone who can bat their eyes, is under 5 feet tall and can do fancy card shuffling tricks.

  When I was tucking him to bed later on in the evening, he took my cheeks into his hands and ever-so sweetly told me "Mom, I'll always love you....even if you fall behind on your payments"  Such a loving son!

Mangled Mouths and the poop truck

Returning to school at my age wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded.  Sure, I had an excuse to wear my pajamas in public and the student discount was sweet, but the overall experience was very different from when I was there 15 years ago.  First of all, pub nights aren’t as fun when you’re dragging 3 boys along (although I’m pretty sure K could drink me under the table).  And when your professors are younger than you, it’s nearly impossible to plead “my kids are sick and my bills are overdue, so can I please get an extension” because they still live with mom and dad, and think that money grows on trees.  But the biggest drawback of finishing school at my age is that, unlike many of my younger classmates, (who still have OSAP money leftover and are discovering themselves by travelling the world) I need to find a job ASAP.  Having been in school for the past 5 years, I was able to escape the drudgery of full time work because I was “studying”.  But now that my academic career has come to an end, I have no more excuses. 

The very idea of having a double income is enough to drive my husband wild.  Being able to actually afford the finer things in life – like housing, clothing and food – has always been a distant fantasy for my family.  OK, it hasn’t been that tight, but I’m pretty sure Peter is sick and tired of us stealing from him to pay Paul.  C wants me to get a job so badly that instead of “sexting” me, he now forwards me the classifieds.

There is only one little problem – I don’t want to find a full time job (teaching or otherwise).  The past year was so freaking stressful that just thinking about working makes my hair turn a shade of gray that even 10 boxes of Nice n’ Easy couldn’t hide (that’s not to say that gray can and does look regal and fabulous on certain people J)   All I want to do is return to driving the school bus.  Not to brag, but I’m a kick-ass bus driver.  Unlike in the classroom, when I’m on the bus I’m calm, cool and 100% confident in my ability to get the job done.  The heart palpitations and sweaty palms which frequently greeted me at the classroom door don’t even bother showing up the bus stop, cause they know they’re not on the manifest, and the board wouldn’t let them ride with me (inside joke!).  Sure the pay sucks with bus driving, but the hours let me still tend to my “motherly” duties (read: I can nap in the afternoon and dine with my peeps on Thursday mornings)

To ease the hubby’s nerves, I’ve been sending out teaching resumes like crazy. But the fish aren’t biting – actually I think the pond is barren.  Well, not quite.  There are teaching jobs, you just have to know or be sleeping with someone to get them - I’m not that kinda gal.  Seriously, it can take years to get a full time permanent teaching job.  And requires that you be at the beck and call of a school board for the first 2 or 3 years.  That means no steady income, or benefits; two things which I can’t sit around waiting for.  This brings me to the point of this blog (sorry it took so long)

Ask any small child what they want to do when they grow up, and you’ll get a variety of answers.  A firefighter, a teacher, a NHL goalie are common responses.  No one ever, EVER says they want to drive the stinky poop truck that empties septic tanks.  But someone ends up doing this job.  How does that happen?  I found the answer in the strangest place - the orthodontist’s office.

I took the boys to an orthodontia consultation several weeks ago.  And without divulging too many details about the state of my boys’ mouths, I’ll just say that the doctor was booking his trip to Europe before we were out the door.  It’s going to take years and thousands of dollars’ worth of dental work to get the 3 boys’ teeth on the straight and narrow.  Sure, C’s insurance plan through work covers a portion of the cost, but nowhere near what we need it to.  That means that not a single track of metal will touch my boy’s pearly whites until I have a full time job with benefits. 
 

And that is how someone ends up driving the poop truck.  We all start the journey of life with an endless supply of hopes and dreams, then we become adults and get our asses whooped by reality.  We sign up for the poop truck gig thinking “I’ll just do this until my dream job comes along”, but then kids show up (and we all know how cheap kids are) or the rent goes up and all of a sudden you can’t walk away from the poopy job.  So you suck it up (literally) and keep working the crappy job, just so your kids have a better life than you did, or at least give have a chance to chase their dream job.

This is why I’m so hesitant to pursue jobs outside the realm of education. Sure I went to school for 5 years with the sole goal of becoming a teacher, but there are no jobs and my kids have mangled mouths.  Neither their teeth nor their very dry university funds can wait until I get a permanent teaching job.  But I know with 100% certainty that stepping away from the teaching industry means that I’ll never be back.  Our family will get used to the increased income and benefits, and we won’t be able to afford me walking away to join all of other teacher-wannabes chase jobs. 

So right now, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.  I want to do the responsible adult thing and get any job.  But I also don’t want to let go of my dream I worked so hard to reach.     Sigh………

Reading and Testosterone: An impossible mix?

There are few things in life that I absolutely adore. Most activities catch my attention for a week or two, and then slowly fall off the radar (that gym membership seemed like a great idea at the time). SWV, sleeping in and reading, however, have always been things I enjoy and are constantly fighting for my love and admiration – granted I tend to pit them against each other. If I could somehow find a way to read a great book, while enjoying a glass of SWV while sleeping into till noon, well I’d be a very happy woman. Despite my best efforts, I am yet to figure out how to drink in my sleep! Anyways – back to my point…….which is around here somewhere……give me a second….I just had it……ahhhh yes here it is……favorite things.

I love reading. I also love finding a book to read. I don’t like spending $19.95 on a book which sells for $1.05 in the States, nor do I like wasting paper, so I almost always get my books from the local library. I could (and have) spend hours cruising the aisles searching for my next read. The hunt for reading material is probably the same feeling shopaholics get during a 50% off sale at H&M’s – minus the snobby sales person, cat fights and shameful credit card bills. Yet, for some reason the family doesn’t share my enthusiasm for free books. When asked if they would like to join me, they often use the very stealthy tactic called “I was bored out of my skull a minute ago, but all of a sudden I think I might clean something so she won’t drag to that hellish place”. My husband reluctantly comes with me so he can use the angled parking and to ensure that I don’t “accidently” bring along 3 days’ worth of food rations just in case I get “stuck” in the self-help section. But he never, ever borrows books – EVER! Where did I go wrong????

Once I get the books home, I tend to be consumed by the books. In fact, when I’m reading a good book, nothing else matters. Rather than Sunday night “fancy dinner”, we have “fend for yourself night”. The “smell it to see if it’s still good” rule is re-enacted and the dust bunny population reaches epic proportions (see my September 8 2010 post). And again, my family doesn’t seem to understand. They say things like “Mom, I haven’t eaten in days…. I’m really hungry” or “My head stuck in the banister again” but I want to encourage their budding independence, so I ignore their pleas and keep on reading. Actually, my oldest has been known to pick up a book now and then. Twilight and Harry Potter were huge hits in the G household. But ever since Edward and Bella became the June and Ward Cleaver of the vampire world, T has all but sworn off reading. And despite my best efforts (read: bribes), I can’t get any of them to pick up a book. I’ve brought home graphic novels (I meant chapter comic books! You dirty pig!), sports magazines and choose your own adventures but still not a single page is turned in our house.

This lack of boy reading doesn’t appear be isolated to my house. Over the weekend, I took an informal poll, and discovered that while most women I know love to read, their male counterparts don’t. Why is this? I understand that most of “Heather’s Picks” from Chapters are oriented towards women, and adolescent girls have a billion “lovey-dovey” books to choose from, but there are tons of books geared towards men/boys. A quick Google search came up with a great book list - click here if interested. So I don’t understand why they don’t read.

I love being totally engulfed into the fictional lives of the books’ characters. If you’ve read “Sarah’s Key” then you know exactly what I mean. I am also disappointed if I can’t get into a book. I’ll push past the boring stuff hoping to get hooked, but it doesn’t always happen and I need to walk away (maybe they need a Viagra for book readers!) But I don’t give up on reading; I simply head back to the library and check out another book.

Maybe they don't like reading because it requires that you sit quietly for more than 7 ½ seconds and for my boys that is virtually an impossible task. But if you were to put a video game in front of them, they’d be good for hours. So really, there is no excuse.

Maybe it’s that men/boys just haven’t heard of any good “man” books. Maybe Don Cherry needs to start a book-club! I’m sure the ‘rock’em and read’em’ series would be a huge hit!

What about you? Does your husband/boys like to read?

I'M BAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!

Hi there, remember me? The funny, smart, beautiful, well-organized, professional, sexy,sweet girl of your dreams. No? Then why are you reading my blog? Its cause I smell good isn’t it? Its ok, it can be our little secret. Well, after 8 long months I’m back! I missed you so much. But I was so freakin busy with school and family demands that I barely had time to shower (maybe I don’t smell that good after all!). But that’s all water under the bridge; the important thing is that we’re back together – happy and smiling, right? So how have you been? How are the kids? The job? Enjoying the summer? Good, good, glad to hear that everything is well.

Since I finished school several months ago, some of you were probably thinking that the blog was also all done – well my friend, you were wrong. I enjoyed spilling the details of my personal life all over the internet so much, that I thought I keep doing it. Plus I’m bored. I’ve decided to keep the title “My Journey to Teaching” because it conveys the image of professionalism and I might be able to convince someone that I am actually a certified teacher. Well, that and I couldn’t figure out how to change the name and still keep my dedicated followers connected. So stayed tuned my little minions, I’ll be posting useless yet funny tales of an unemployed teacher very soon!

Love ya!

Curse you Snooki!

I’m in a grade six class for the next 4 months. And asides from the math being WAY harder than grade 3 (when you think of perimeter, area and irregular polygons, I know you’re thinking good times, good times, now pass the big bottle of SWV!) , the hormones are in full swing with these kids. It’s like teaching to a class of bi-polar lunatics! One minute their saying “good morning, Mrs. G, lovin’ the purple sweater” and the next they’re killing me with their eye rolling and the “gee, Mrs. G, why do you have to be so stupid” stares!

I am enjoying the fact that I can joke and be sarcastic with this group of kids, way more than with the grade 3’s. What would have made the 3’s cry, makes the “mature” 6’s laugh. I can also talk to these kids at an almost adult level (well that might depend on which adult I’m talking to). We “debrief” about the latest episode of Jersey shores, and discuss the pathetic merits of being a leafs fan.

However, I’m not enjoying the lectures I now have to give. Take this afternoon for example. I had to “remind” them that it’s respectful to actually listen to someone when they’re speaking. And that it is absolutely disrespectful to turn towards said speaker and then turn your back (as if to say “screw you Mrs. G, we’re talking about way more important stuff….see debriefing Jersey Shores) I also had to “talk” to them about community in the classroom and why it’s not nice to laugh when someone does poorly on a test - a test which said teaser did just as bad if not worse on.

But as I reflect (cause asides from lesson planning and essay writing, that’s all I do nowadays) back on this teachable moment, I had one of those moments when you think to yourself “Dammit, why didn’t I say that”. You must know those moments; typically happens as your walking away from a confrontation in an unnamed parking lot with some ‘crazy’ hockey mom….this happens to you right? RIGHT?

Anywho, I could have had the kids all raise their hands, and said “put your hand down if you’ve ever had a bad day, done poorly on an assignment or been embarrassed in class” which of course (hopefully) would have resulted in everyone putting their hand down. Then I could have started a chorus version of Kumbaya and had a group hug. But this is real life people, and these kids have never heard of Kumbaya. On a side note, when I assigned a map labeling project as homework and told them to reference an atlas, their response was “oh no, Mrs G don’t you mean Google Earth?”

When I called for the classes’ attention (“1,2,3…eyes on me” and “if you hear my voice clap once….”) in grade 3, everyone turned and listened attentively. In grade 6, they do the clapping, but promptly continue with their prior activity (again see above mentioned Jersey Shore…I’m beginning to really despise Snooki…..even more). Yesterday, I had to raise my voice, and at one point I shut the classroom door with more force than necessary. I don’t like that these kids are winning the oh-so-fun game of “how far can we push Mrs. G”. I have three boys; I should be an expert at that game. In the past few days, I have turned to heavens and asked for an extra helping of patience more times than I can count.

Despite the fact that I’m dealing with a strange breed of humans (think: a 4 year old trapped in an 11 year olds body, who looks like Justin Bieber and thinks they should be treated like an adult) I am enjoying this new class. And despite the fact that I was “challenged” by a grade 6 math question yesterday, I love that I don’t have to admit that I’m stumped. I can simply say “I already know the answer; I’m challenging you to find it and report back to me”. Oh….I’m good!

Good night people, I have some Jersey Shores episodes to catch up on!

The little reminders in life

I've been on "holidays" (us moms know to use that term loosely) for the past few weeks. I really enjoyed the sleeping in, stuffing my face and the hockey (and there was A LOT of hockey -- heck who am I kidding, there was also A LOT of stuffing my face as well). But sadly, I returned (with my pants feeling a little too snug) to my crazy student life this past Monday.

Actually I was thrown back into the hectic schedule, spending the whole week at my new placement school. And this time round, I'm in a grade 6 class. Which can only mean one thing......grade 6 MATH!!!! YIKES! And I thought grade 3 math was a challenge! At least "we" can use calculators (and I mean "WE" cause I'm learning too). The kids were learning about scatter plots and data management. Which works out well because I taught the grade 3's all about graphs in December --- oh wait, that doesn't work out well cause I SUCK at data management. Oh well, a wise person once said "a teacher is only 24 hours smarter than their class" So when I assign homework to the grade 6's, you know for sure that I'll also be doing the same homework.

Anyways, I was tidying up my computer tonight (yet another way to avoid actually getting stuff done) and I came across the personal statement I wrote to get into teacher's college. And as I read it, it reminded me that 1) I am smart, 2) I have the right experience to become a teacher and 3) with enough time and SWV, I can write some really good stuff! I've included my letter so you guys can see the power of liquid inspiration! If you ever think "Why on God's green earth is Jenn becoming a teacher?" Please refer back to this post, I know I will (many, many times throughout my career!)

The point of the personal statement is to explain (in a one page letter) how your experiences in life have guided you into education. The catch is, that you can't beg or plead for acceptance into the program. Nor can you say that you want to teach because you get the summers off and a really strong pension plan (which of course is the real reason most of us choose teaching)

So without any further ado --- my personal statement......

Deeply influenced by my own teachers, I knew at a young age that I was destined to teach. However, life sometimes takes you on an unexpected path and for many years I believed that it would impossible to follow my dream. Busy raising my own children, I satisfied my desire to teach by volunteering in their classrooms. Even though I truly enjoyed my time with the students, as a volunteer I felt that I was witnessing the learning process from the sidelines.

Then several years ago I was given the chance to return to school. While I knew it would not be easy balancing the demands of family, work as well as full time school, I also knew that it was an opportunity I could not pass up. Today, despite the setbacks I have faced, I am overjoyed to be so close to reaching my childhood dream of teaching.

An essential aspect of being a teacher is having the ability to interact with a diversity of students, parents and members of the community, and my background and volunteer experiences have instilled this important quality in me.

For many years I have been a school bus driver, as such I am responsible for safely transporting up to 72 children to and from school. Interacting with a large group of students has taught me many invaluable skills, such as conflict resolution and student management, which can easily be applied to a classroom setting.

As a reading buddy volunteer, I have learned as much from the students as they have from me. I have learned to develop interpersonal skills such as being able to adapt to the needs of an individual student. After accessing the child’s reading ability, I utilize the available materials and resources to engage and encourage the learning process. When the resources do not meet the specific needs of the student, I have sought out, as well as, created literacy games which reinforce the concepts we are working on. This creativity and innovation will allow me, as a teacher, to recombine school board curriculum into exciting activities for both the individual student and the whole class.

As a classroom volunteer I have been assigned a variety of tasks with the majority of that time being spent working with small groups of students. Whether it’s the joy a student feels when they master a concept they had previously struggled with or feeling a child’s frustration when they don’t quite get it, it is in these small group settings that I have gained the greatest appreciation for the emotions involved in teaching. In fact, it is the feelings of frustration which have fueled my desire to teach. For without frustration, the ability to challenge and push myself would be lost.

I understand now that a teacher does more than teach the basics, they engage their students and foster a lifelong love of learning. As a teacher, I would not only witness the beginnings of something great, teaching would allow me to be a vital part of that process.


Hope everyone had a wonderful break (in whatever capacity that break came!)

Bean bags vs. Mrs. G....guess who wins!

I started my two week block placement on Monday. This means for all you non-teacher types, that I’ll be teaching for the next 14 days or 336 hours or 20 160 minutes, give or take a bathroom break or two. It’s been crazy, exhausting, frustrating and so much freakin fun! And I’ve got some great laughable teaching moments to report.

On Wednesday, I was leading the kids through a gym lesson on how to throw a ball. Seems pretty straight forward, but it is a skill which needs to be taught. And for some of the kids (and this is not only in my class, but a general observation I’ve made about little humans) the closest they come to physical activity is the bowling game on the Wii. Needless to say, I had my hands full.

After I handed out the bean bags (can’t start with real balls, someone might get hurt….it’s that bad), I began demonstrating the proper technique for throwing underhand. Everything was going great, except for one tiny little problem. No one was paying attention to me.

Me: Ok, girls and boys, I’m going to show you how to properly throw underhand.

Student: Look at me; I can balance the bean bag on my head.

Me: That’s great Johnny, but just hold it in your hands.

Student: Ha ha, I can balance it on my foot.

Me: Please just hold onto the bean bag, and watch me.

Student: Hey everyone, I can throw it up to the ceiling!

Me (in my kindest teacher voice): Ladies and gentlemen, eyes on me!

Student: Aweseome, I can juggle it with just one hand!

At this point, you may have felt what seemed to be another earthquake in southern Ontario. Have no fear, it was only my patience cracking!

Me: PUT THE BEAN BAG ON THE RED LINE AND LOOK AT ME!!!!

Student: I can throw the bean bag up to the ceiling and catch it with my butt...with my eyes closed, coooooolllllll!

Me: *#^@&^#%&@%#$!%@^##%$**!^#&#*&!%@$......
(deep breath, count to 10).......that's it, gym class is over!

Student: What's wrong with Mrs. G, I was having such a great time!

GGGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!



They should teach "drinking for your sanity 101" in teacher's college. I'd get an A+ no problem!




Don't worry, I'll more stories to share.....after the 2 tylenols, 3 gravols and pepto clear up my wicked "headache".