First Grade and yoga....

Friday is my "work in class" day. I will say once again that I like working in my kids' classes, for a myriad of reasons, but mostly because I love them. Is it always fun? No. But sometimes, it is a little rewarding.
I normally have the group that is working on writing in their journals or doing a worksheet. I wander around, making sure everyone is working, answering questions, sounding out words, whatever is required. I have escorted kids to the principals office, stayed in during recesses correcting homework, encouraged and cajoled, and witnessed more than a few tears when they got frustrated. I guess I expect all those things to happen. But today... was something I never thought I'd do.

We worked on a worksheet today and I was prepared for the kids who wanted to guess the answers (The ones that think that if I send them back to fix an answer because it was wrong, and they choose the next multiple choice answer and bring it back for me to correct and tell them that they need to go back again to fix it again, because it was wrong AGAIN, and by process of elimination they come up with the right answer, that it will be good enough! NO (I am so much smarter than that!) & the ones who want me to read the whole thing to them (once again... smarter than that, me and them!) & the ones who think if they cry that they won't have to stay in during recess to finish their work when they were goofing off instead of working during station time (wrong...again!) *Wow! I sound tough!!! I am no push over... but I am not nearly as strict as Mr. E.*
After seven months I think I have a pretty good idea of how these kids operate. I know what these kids are capable of, which ones need extra incentive, who needs lots of redirection and which ones get frustrated easily. I thought the day had gone rather nicely. No tears or tantrums, or trips to the office. Great. The kids leave with Mr. E for p.e. and I stay to talk to Mrs. E (she is there everyday til noon when her kindergarten son goes home...now that is a dedicated "volunteer-at-school" mom!) After about 5 minutes we hear a child howling (literally!) as he runs down the hall towards class. Mrs. E says, "That must be ----, back from p.e." (She is also aware of what to expect!!) Sure enough, this student comes into class screaming and crying and yelling and kicking the desk. I am dumbstruck. I just stand there for what seems like forever, staring. I have seen this student when he gets frustrated with desk work, but obviously I have never witnessed a "p.e." melt-down. (apparently, Mrs. E had... more than once too, I guessed) She gave him a second and then tried talking to him, validating his feelings, trying to calm him down. I am still standing there, bewildered. Do I just leave? Do I stand there like an idiot? watching? After what seemed like an eternity something clicked in my head. I set down my purse and walked up to this student and asked, "Can I show you something?" I plopped down on the carpet and asked him to sit there with me. I get him all set up in modified lotus pose, have him put his hands on his knees, straighten his back, shoulders down and start explaining how he needs to breathe into his belly. After a few breaths I ask him, "Do you know what we are doing?" He shakes his head no. "Meditating," I say.

*@^!* Where did THAT come from!!! And why haven't I ever tried it with my own kids???

It was almost immediate. He was calm. I'm not sure if it was the complete change of direction, the yogic breathing, or if he was just freaked out by me plopping down on the ground and switching into yoga mode! We sat there for a few more minutes, talking about breathing, and how he could do *this* whenever he started getting frustrated or angry. I told him I'd check up with him next Friday to see how he was doing and left.

WEIRD! I'm not sure who was more surprised by that whole thing... him... or Mrs. E or me!!?

Chi Tu Do

Brock is really into this "karate" stuff. He goes at it with all his heart. He strikes hard and he yells loud!

These are "my" boys. As if my own three aren't enough! Honestly... where do all these redheads come from anyways? Is there some unwritten law that they feel the need to stick together? flock to one another? Whatever? I love it!
Caden, Carson, Brock, Josh, McKenzie

Caden, ever observant. You know he is just logging all the information away into that computer brain of his....

Just couldn't resist... he is so darn cute!

"the cub-mobile"

This is where I come right out and say it.... I could NEVER have planned a cub scout activity this cool. Bros West and Frasier really have this badge down to a science... really. They said they have built and torn down and built this go-cart several times for the cubs over the years and I am sooo glad that they did it for us. This will surely be one of those "scouting highlights" for these boys... they loved the building and they had so much fun racing too. It is still really weird for me when these men look to me to lead them (I have no idea what I am doing!!!) They have so much experience and enthusiasm... I am simply grateful that they are willing to be there and help make this a fun thing for the boys.
Despite the whirlwind that my life has become lately, I did manage to remember the camera today. Honestly, can you imagine NOT documenting a bunch of little boys, power tools and a go-cart with pictures? I didn't think so. I love the looks of concentration on their faces and the way their hands still have a bit of the "baby-ness" to them,( I love baby hands, pudgy knuckles...so sweet!) especially when they are holding huge drills.




























After the boys had finished putting the cart together, they were each able to add their name to the "cub-mobile" as proof that they built it.



















After a few quick instructions on how to drive... they were out to the parking lot for the test drive.
Can you see the huge smile on Brock's face, behind the helmet? He was in speed induced euphoria.... Caden on the other hand was very cautious.

I am a few days late (and several dollars short!) but here is an update from Monday.
I know that a few weeks ago I wrote about dodging the "karate" bullet. I had thought that getting a do-it-at-home video would do the trick. Apparently not. About 2 weeks ago Caden's friend Mckenzie invited Caden to go with him to Chi Tu Do on guest day. Because Caden is such a sweet boy and a good friend he said yes. The day came and he didn't really want to go, but we talked about it and I told him he had committed to it and Mckenzie really wanted to bring a friend. I think he was a little apprehensive about it but went. At the last second they invited Brock and off they went. An hour and a half later, they were all back home and....OH MY GOSH! they were so stoked. Both of them were begging to go back. Brock had all the paperwork and was literally following me around hounding me to go online "Right Now" to register them and get "the clothes"!
*Whitney, Mackenzie's Dad is so funny because he can do the Brock impersonation, and I was entertained with a dialog they had about "the clothes"!*
We talked it over as a family and I did in fact go online and register and order "the clothes". That next week was the ski week break so we decided that we'd start in March. I'm thinking that Brock is more into this than Caden, but it might also just be that he is so much MORE vocal. I received daily updates on how many more days until March and endless inquiries as to where "the clothes" were and, "when the heck are they going to get here!"
Thank goodness they arrived before the first class (don't know if I would have had the stamina to keep up with him if they had not!) Both boys tried on their new gi the night they arrived in the mail and gave us a demonstration of their skills in the kitchen. So funny.
Caden and Brock got in a spat on the way home from school Monday because Caden accused Brock of bragging about going to Chi tu do to his friends. I had to explain to Caden that Brock wasn't bragging, just excited about his upcoming class.
Unfortunately, I was unable to stay and observe their first lesson. I got all the boys there (mine +2) and then had to run to the school for the board meeting.

pictures by Curtis....

Before you get all excited thinking that I am some responsible, concerned parent who is interested in all the district going ons... I only went to watch Tadhg and his Shake the Floor class perform THRILLER! I didn't get to see the original performance. Tadhg didn't tell me, until after the fact, when it was. At the time I figured it wasn't that big of a deal to him if he didn't want me to go. When I learned that they would perform again I was determined to be there. He is so blase' about most things anymore... and I would have thought that a "dance" class would be considered totally un-cool. But he did have it for 2 quarters as an elective? So I'm guessing that he liked it. I was curious... Then I was impressed. They all did a really good job. The costumes and makeup were terrific and the dance routine was great. He took it all so seriously too. This was clearly something that he had put a lot of time and effort into and he was proud to be there, as he should be... he was amazing. It was interesting for me to watch him... First he looked so grown up, up there on the stage, made-up to look like a zombie, doing his thing. I realized that he is no longer the little kid, who needs to find his mother in the crowd and wave, who is nervous to be in front of a roomful of people, unsure of his lines or afraid to do his part. He was all "cool confidence" and that was....weird....interesting. I watched him dance with girls, he even did a lift! Very manly. I was kind of blown away. When did he get this old, this independent, this self-assured, this... separate... from me?
My friend Tif took some video. I'll try and post it if it turned out.

I was asked to say a few things today at church about journal writing. The first thing I thought when Vicki asked me was, "She doesn't know me very well, because if she did... she definitely wouldn't have asked ME to talk about writing in my journal!" I will be the first to admit that I am LOUSY about writing in a journal. I can look back across the last 16 years and find, maybe 3 journal entries. I'm not sure if it is that horrifying feeling of sitting there with a pen and a blank book... or the idea that what I say needs to be important or insightful... or, worse still, 50 years from now, who will be reading this?! And what will they be thinking??? I can just picture someone reading my pathetic attempts at at journal and saying, "Grandma Rebekah... *wow, that was weird to type!*... was so boring" or "Life must have really stunk 50 years ago, I'm so glad we didn't live then!"
I have my issues, I know, but on the other hand... *see me waving my left hand in the air*... I can't begin to describe how much I would like to have something, ANYTHING written by my grandparents or great-grandparents that could clue me into why they were who they were, or what possessed them to move so frequently. It would be really great not to have to guess at why my Great Grandpa O'Kelley was married 3 times and to his sister-in-law the last time? OR Why my other Great Grandpa Morton decided to leave Canada and enlist in the Navy during the Civil War? But, because they left no records, or journals (that I know of) all I CAN do is guess.
So much of my life is mundane. Who wants to read about endless laundry and my war against Coarsegold dust? I am so far from being eloquent... and I never did figure out the trick to telling a good story. (It would probably help if I could corral all these thoughts that just spin out of control in my head! but I gave up on that long ago!)
The really sad part, is that my memory is rubbish. I can barely remember stuff from last week, let alone years ago. Even the hugely significant events in my life... I couldn't describe them with any amount of detail, and some... I have no recollection of at all, even though I am certain that they DID actually take place. There are times when I would dearly love to be able to have a pensive, (you fellow Harry Potter freaks out there will know exactly what I am taking about!) so I could pull those memories out and examine them. *wistful sigh*
Curtis was there when I was asked to talk on this and the first thing he said was, "Would you like me to pack you some tissues?" Thanks for that vote of confidence... He knows that I cannot NOT cry! I started to lament and list my inadequacies *see above* and he said that my scrapbooks and blog were great examples of journaling. I think he was just trying to climb his way out of the "tissues" hole he'd just dug... but I guess, in a way, they could count. They are a sort of documentation to my existence. They aren't very insightful, but they are a start. (I can totally rationalize that if you give me enough time!) Maybe Vicki WAS inspired to ask me, because now I feel this incredible need to make sure I do leave my mark.