A to Z: Life is a Lesson

Bloggety, blog, blog...

2013-09-08T11:55:00.004-05:00

Well, it seems I have dropped the ball on any existence of a blog. Since it is a Sunday, and I should be working on my lesson plans, this seems like the perfect opportunity to catch up. Not much has changed, however. We are currently in birthday season when all of the kids turn a year older (Catie, 6; Abby, 10; and Zac, 12), the kids have begun a new school year, and I am still grappling with herculean task of conquering the chore chart. This is how my whole blog got started with my post Washing The Clean Dishes. That chore chart lasted about 72 hours. You remember what a lousy housekeeper Abby was at 7-years-old. This family has a ton of experience with many different chore charts. If you are looking for that mom blog with all the answers, you've knocked on the wrong door. This family is real and struggles the same as you to <<get.it.right>>.

Yesterday my kids were all off at different activities, so I got on my dust fairy wings and cleaned...and cleaned...and cleaned. By 4:00 the house was sparkling. By 10:00 the house was back to the way it was before I started. I had even cooked a nice dinner which I, and only I, ate.

Today is a new day. I have resorted to locking the girls in their rooms and not allowing them any privileges until their rooms sparkle. Oh, I know that sounds mean. They don't actually REALIZE they are locked in their rooms. I am a pro at this MOM thing by now. I called them both into the living room, told them that they would have to earn their electronic devices back today, told them what good cleaners they are (((God accepts some lies, right?))), armed them with two types of cleaning spray and paper towels, and told them to surprise me with how clean they can make their region of our home. I told them I believed in them. I told them they could DO IT! WE HIGH FIVED!!
So far, they have come out for an oreo, a piece of gum, to tattle (twice), and to make a playlist on my iPhone for added motivation. Now, they are back in their rooms. We shall see what is to come. More later.

~ACZ

UPDATE:

Success!! YipEE!!

The Little Things

2013-01-04T19:47:00.003-06:00

I'm not even sure how to begin......

Yesterday, a dear friend said, "This Christmas seemed to come and go so quickly. It was so filled with hurt." She is a very talented musician and our school's choir director. She is also in charge of the music for our church. Over our Christmas break, as we were relaxing by the fire and planning how to entertain our kids, she sang for seven funerals....<<<SEVEN>>>..

I can't even imagine what the families are going through who are suffering with the loss of a loved one over a holiday like Christmas. It makes you really count your blessings and wonder, "How did I get so lucky?" I have three healthy, normally developing, well socialized kids. ((You have no idea, as an educator, how much I know this to be a blessing)). I have a husband who I know loves me immensely ~~even though he can't seem to clean the garage like I asked~~. I have a beautiful home. Not just any home. I have a big home near the water with the sweetest front brick steps you could imagine. I have a nice car. My kids have everything you could possibly ride on. I have a dog ~~((who won't quit barking)))~~ that I love. I have a job in this dwindeling economy. I can pay all of my bills and have a pantry full of food and snacks. We don't often think of what others go home to. Our lives are so busy. Some are going home to sick moms, dads, and relatives that they care for almost daily. Some are going home to hours ~~and hours~~ of homework for subjects that seem so simple, but our child just.doesn't.get. Some of us are going home to nothing. Some of us can't pay our bills.

I'm not trying to be depressing. I'm only trying to be truthful. It has been heavy on my heart.

Today, I attended a viewing. It was not a funeral, nor was it a wake. It was the first one of its kind I have ever attended. It was also one of the most touching...and eye-opening.

Our school has a cleaning "crew". My school is large enough for almost 700 kids to attend comfortably and stretch their legs. It's big. Our cleaning "crew" consists of Claudette and Frank. 2 people. They are husband and wife. They are probably in their late fifties. They are hard workers and as kind as they come. Those of us who often stay late greet them each afternoon as they dump our trash and try to stay "out of our way".

When I started working there, there was a faculty meeting where it was stated that we pay tens of thousands of dollars per year for janitorial service. Let's say it's over $50,000. I thought, "Whoa. Frank and Claudette do well with this one account." But, as I looked closer, I realized that they have very little. They dress in rags. When I offered the left over class pizza, they did not hesitate.

Two weeks before Christmas, during morning prayer, our principal asked to keep Claudette in our prayers because she wasn't feeling well and felt like she may have a heart attack. She went on to say thay have no insurance and can't afford the medical care she needs and they couldn't afford to miss the hours away from work. They don't work for themselves. They work for a janitorial service, likely making minimum wage or a little over. (((Oh. Well, that makes more sense.))) We decided we would take a collection for them around school to try to help. Many teachers gave generously.

Two days later, Claudette had the heart attack she feared she would have. She was found by her 22-year-old son in her chair early on a Friday morning. She was unresponsive and remained that way for 14 days. Over the Christmas holiday. Frank and her son sat faithfully by her side, even telling us that they thought she could come back because they think she is responding, even though the doctors don't. Her son finally had to make the decision to terminate life support. Claudette held on for 6 more days. She died yesterday, probably mid morning.

Frank could not afford her death anymore than he could afford the hospital bill. His only option was to cremate her, plain and simple. When I asked about a service, he said we would have to say we were family because they would only allow family to see her. He said, in a very humble way, "Mrs. Zembower, don't dress all fancy to go see her. I'm just gonna put her in her sweatsuit, you know." When I told him we didn't have to go, he insisted. "No, please, just tell them you're family. Tell the teachers to say they're family."

My principal made a phone call to allow for our staff to "visit" Claudette from 1:30-4:30 today. There was no casket. Not one flower arrangement. No pictures. Just Frank. Claudette was in her sweatsuit on a gurney, covered in a sheet. Someone (maybe Frank) had placed wilted white roses and a small religious item on her chest. Frank wore jeans and his nicest T-shirt. His hair that once reached halfway down his back is shaven. In his culture, you shave your head when you lose someone you love. "My hair was so long, because I haven't lost anyone in so long, " he said. Just after we arrived to the small room and paid our respects, teachers began arriving since school was out. One after one...until the small room was FULL. We gathered in a circle and prayed together. Our music director sang for one more funeral as she led us in "Amazing Grace". We told Frank to make a list of what he needs and he would get it.... He needs so much.... We all have so much. We told him he was part of the FAMILY, even though he didn't know it before now.

Hours after I got home, I realized....I guess GOD gave Frank the funeral he wanted for Claudette, but couldn't afford. I hope he felt some peace and closure from the "visit". I think he did.

This week, as this weighs on my mind, I have one verse that keeps running through my head like a broken record.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in. ~ Matthew 25:35

Lesson~ See Matthew Chapter 25.

~ACZ

peace.

My Most Read Posts

2012-12-28T12:41:00.003-06:00

These are all from 2011!! Why was I so much better at this in 2011?? Anywho..EnJoY! Some will make you laugh out loud, some are serious, but all have drawn quite an audience. Tell me which is your favorite! Comment below!

10. Heroes A tribute to our military

9. Quiet Time The time I escaped :D

8. Welcome Back A teacher's reflection of the first day of school...God help me!

7. More Bang For Your Buck For all you cheap skates out there!

6. Marriage 101 Note: I'm not nearly as sociable as I once was either as stated in this post :(

5. Blessings One of my personal faves

4. Summer Vacation, Day Three Summertime and a drama queen!

3. Teacher Tip: Getting That Dang Straw in the Capri Sun is a Skill My BEST teacher advice ever!

2. My First Born The story of 9/11/01, the day my world and your world changed.

1. She's Crazy I Tell You! Hilarious...about my mom and every grandmother on the planet!

Thanks for the Ammo, Santa!

2012-12-28T12:10:00.001-06:00

Well, as NORAD Santa Tracker predicted, Santa Claus made his appearance around 11:15 p.m. on the night of Christmas Eve just as soon as the kids were asleep (or at least faking sleep well enough for Santa to begin).
This year proved to be just the same as any other. One kid had too much, one kid had way too little, and one kid had it just as originally planned. The lack of communication in this house caused us to spend $$$hundreds$$$ more on Christmas than we originally intended. I blame Mr. Zembower since he just had to have the new gun for his sweet male offspring. Our middle child scored big with a new TV for her room ~~so that they finally quit fighting daily over Zac's TV~~. She was thrilled. Our youngest scored what was left on the shelves the day before Christmas Eve. She's only five and still easy to please, though ((and there were no more KAROAKE machines left in this town!!!)). Their family time for Christmas also proved prolific in the gift department.
Now, as the holiday winds down, we are getting back into our normal swing of things. I am doing what any good mom does, using these new possessions as ammo. ((Don't judge. You know you do it, too))
My middle child is losing things left and right. I've checked her "clean" room three times already. I've written of her housekeeping abilities before in this post about chores and this follow up post. She's a disaster. Picture the child of Pigpen and the Tasmanian Devil. If she touches it, it remains where she left it...all over my house. When asked if she cleaned her room, brushed her teeth, took a shower, etc, she responds with a fully believable, "Yes." Lies...all of them. It's time for action. No matter what I am doing, how busy I think I am, I will have to go to her task and double check. I've started this today. She was told that each time I checked and she had lied, she would lose a new beloved item. So far, she's lost her TV and her new Heeleys on my only two checks. Next is the Nook, then the football. I will WIN...I will be VICTORIOUS!! I WILL have a home that I can actually have surprise guests one day without being utterly embarrassed at the state of disarray that our home is in!

Lesson: The middle child is a tough nut to crack.

In other news, Santa has since found two more bags of gifts (mostly clothing) in the bag of ~~her~~ his sleigh. I also blame this on Mr. Zembower since he was the one designated to retrieve said items from the back of the sleigh at 11:00 pm on Christmas Eve. :(

~ACZ

One more note to defend my grammatical intelligence. This font apparently makes my uppercase S look like a lowercase S in my title on the word "Santa". I assure you, I have checked and rechecked, and I definitely put an uppercase letter there. :(

A to Z: Life is a Lesson: Ma'am I Think You're On Our Team

2012-12-11T20:41:00.002-06:00

A to Z: Life is a Lesson: Ma'am I Think You're On Our Team: It has taken me over 2 weeks to admit this to anyone, even my husband. Actually, I haven't even told him yet. Once you read this, erase it...

Ma'am I Think You're On Our Team

2012-12-11T20:41:00.000-06:00

It has taken me over 2 weeks to admit this to anyone, even my husband. Actually, I haven't even told him yet. Once you read this, erase it from your brain. You are not allowed to question me or ever bring it up again.

Basketball season has begun. Once again, Catie was ready to try out for another sport. T-ball was short-lived, having spent most of the time faking a headache or tummy ache, then bouncing back for the post game high fives and popsicles. Zac and Abby play ((and L-O-V-E)) basketball, so Catie must at least give it a go. If she takes after me, basketball will NOT be her thang.

Well, for the first practice, we arrived to find a school friend on the team. I thought, "I don't remember seeing a school friend on the roster?" I dismissed it and thought he must have signed up late. I sent Catie to the coach on Court 2, watched him check to see if he had her name, and stayed for her practice. Truth be told, I usually walked the overhead track and watched simultaneously, stopping at the rare occasion that it was Catie's turn to shoot, giving a quick thumbs up, and continuing on. That's what Moms of the Year do, right? We were on time, even early for practices. We practiced like champs for 3 solid weeks.

At the end of the 3rd practice, just as Catie was getting the hang of actually reaching the goal with the ball and really enjoying her brand new teammates, the Family Life Center Director approached me and said, "Um, we don't have a uniform for Catie on this team, but that team does." She pointed to the team we had practiced next to for 3 solid weeks...on Court 1. The team with a lot of short people, a.k.a. 4-year-olds.

"Is there any chance we can just play with this team?"
"No. The teams are full, sorry."
"And you think they'd notice?"
"Yea. The teams are all full."

I stood in the middle of the court staring at Catie frolicking with her new buds on her team, dreading having to break the news. I lied and told her this new team was so much better and practiced much better than hers. It would be so much fun. She didn't buy it. There was one sweet girl on the team, which was a plus (who has not attended a practice or game since that day). We finished up practice with our "new" team long enough to get the last minute "1-2-3 Hornets!" huddle at the end.

So there it is. We currently practice with the Hornets on Court 1...with the short kids. Games are at the crack of dawn each Saturday. Catie's 5-year-old maturity combined with her mad dribbling skills have proven an asset to her new team. Sure, most of practice is spent with half of the team on their backs while spinning in circles, the other half sipping their apple juice, but it has been fun. She really does have great coaches. Last game, one of them pulled me aside and said, "I am just so proud of Catie! She is so shy and quiet, but she got out there and really gave it her all today." Shy and quiet....sure...and I'm Jennifer Lopez.

Lesson: Pay attention, Mom-of-the-Year.

~ACZ

Free Christmas Tree!!

2012-12-07T19:12:00.001-06:00

Last week my aunt said she knew someone giving away a NINE foot artificial tree. The ~~cheapskate~~ deal seeker that I am jumped on the deal, since I have been meaning to buy a fake tree for years. When I asked what was wrong with it, she said, "It was in perfect condition. The man and lady are just getting older and don't want the pain of such a large tree." ScoRe!!

Well, the tree is now up. It is quite lovely with the exception of one major detail. The former smell of Christmas that emanated the air is no longer there. It has been replaced with this smell. The smell of a fake tree...that sat in the attic for month after month...the attic of old people...the attic that also housed MoTh BaLLs!!

Who uses moth balls?? There has to be another way to protect the treasures you keep.

Anyway...the smell. You know the one, with the live tree...the pine, the fresh smell of the wood, and the sap. I didn't realize how much I enjoyed it. Now it's gone.

It's okay. I am a teacher. I am completely armed with every Yuletide flavor of candle you can imagine from years and years of thoughtful Christmas gifts. I could try to be authentic with the smell I choose, but I am all out of "pine", and there is no "Muggy Louisiana Heat" candle on the market. I settled for "Winter Wonderland" which could not be further from authentic, but what the heck, neither is the tree.

Lesson: Beggars can't be choosers.

Merry Christmas

~ACZ

Why Can't My Child Spell?

2012-11-16T23:02:00.000-06:00

Spelling is like anything in life and every school subject there is. Some kids are born with an understanding of words and their sounds, and other kids have to work very hard to understand the relationship.

Good readers are good spellers. Why? They see the words often in the books they read, developing their vocabulary, and seeing reoccurring letter patterns over and over. They may not even be book readers, but they are readers...of cereal boxes, bill boards, signs, menus, etc. My daughter does not read many books, but she reads EVERYTHING else. She's also a good speller.

Poor spellers typically don't enjoy reading as much, if at all. If they do enjoy reading, it's usually more of a take it or leave it attitude. They don't read the cereal box in front of them; they play the game on the back. They don't read the billboards, but they may notice the art on it. They may read, but more often, they don't. Take it or leave it.

I have a BA in Speech Pathology and an Elementary Education certification for grades 1-5. The reason I had an interest in both of these things is because I was the reader in my family. My brother and sister, on the other hand, were not. I was the kid left on the bus hiding behind Charlotte's Web. My brother and sister hated reading. There was nothing fun about it. It was work and it was HARD work. It made them feel stupid when they tried because other kids could do it, but they couldn't. My sister would later be diagnosed with dyslexia in a higher grade. My brother would be diagnosed with dyslexia in 1st grade. In 1980, kids were not often diagnosed with much, but it was obvious.

Because of this huge difference between my siblings and I, it made me extra sensitive to others who struggle, and it still does today. My heart goes out to them, and I want them to be understood. The following is my theory and my theory only based on my education and experience in my classroom. This is not any scientific data, but I think I can help.

How do I help my kid learn to spell?

1. DO Know this. A poor speller does not mean a child is not intelligent. Know it, believe it, and drill it in your child's brain. It's a skill. Every kid has a weak subject. This just happens to be theirs. They can overcome it, but it takes work. Some of the smartest people I know are awful spellers.

2. DO NOT believe "Who needs to learn to spell? That's what spellcheck is for?" You have to get close for spellcheck to recognize it, and if you use a homophone spelled correctly, it will not catch it. Grammar Nazis like me will know the difference when they are an executive later in life and have to put out memos for the whole company, or worse, hand write memos for others. We want our kids to be their best. They don't get there by making excuses or being lazy. (Was that too harsh?) They also go through many years of school and college where they will be graded on such things.

3. DO NOT MAKE YOUR CHILD WRITE THEIR WORDS 5, 10, 20 TIMES EACH!! This may BE the reason they cannot spell. It is also the reason they hate spelling.

4. Do NOT call out spelling lists in the car to a struggling speller. You CAN do this to an achieved speller. The already use the strategy I will get to in a bit. Struggling spellers must ALWAYS write the word. Did I say ALWAYS? Good.

5. If your school does not already offer a list of spelling rules, find some. Our school uses the Spalding Method of writing, but there are other methods that offer the rules. Google it.
This is a link I just found for the 29 Spalding Rules. http://jensclassonline.com/index_files/Spalding.pdf. It is overwhelming at first. Don't be scared. You can do this. You already know some of them! So does your child!

6. Know the sounds that the letters make. In PreK, kids are taught that X says /ks/ and Y says /y/. Then they are taught the word "xylophone". Where's /xs/? They are taught x-ray. This X says /eks/, /not /xs/. X only says /ks/ in the final part of a syllable. The list should be "fox, box, mix". For Y they learn "yarn, yellow, yak" Those all say /y/ as they were told. Then they get in 1st grade and learn "baby, my, by" Where's /y/? Y only says /y/ in the beginning of a syllable.
THEY NEED TO KNOW UNITS OF SOUND, NOT LETTERS. Spalding uses these phonograms. Learn them in order. After # 45, it gets complicated. Learn those when they present themselves in a spelling list word.
These are the videos on you tube. There are cuter ones, but I teach 4th grade. You can google that, too. Save these on your computer desktop for easy access for your child to work alone.
Phonograms 1-26 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLSjWArTh64&feature=player_detailpage
Phonograms 27-45 http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=He2uoL_MawM
Phonograms 46-58 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXyOehXqrH4
Phonograms 59-70 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SEtJggP9P4

7. Review these cards (mastering one set at a time and only the first two sets) nightly if you have a struggling speller. Total immersion is best, not just when we feel like it. It takes very little time to review. Once your child has mastered 1-45, they can start finding them in words. These flashcards are also available in a student set for around $13, I think, at www.spalding.org. Find the "store" tab.

8. The spelling list. Your spelling lists will typically focus on a rule, like the magic e that makes the vowel say its name. Spalding lists are different, but you need to adapt this to your child's spelling lists at school. Underline silent e twice always. Spalding gets more involved in this, but you'll be fine just using this rule with your child. "If the letter does not say the sound it should make, underline it twice."

9. Help your child to mark their spelling list. Underline phonograms with more than one letter. See if there is a rule(s) that matches each week in your list. Learn the rule as it presents itself. For example if the words end in Y, there are two rules possible. Words do not end in i, so we use y. In one syllable words, Y says long /i/. If the word is more than one syllable, Y says long /e/. You will have lists with "ai" and "ay", and "oi" and "oy, etc. Mark (underline) these phonograms and any others that are more than one letter.

10. Sound out the letters as the letter "should" sound, not the way it does in speaking. For example, "vote" sounds like /v/ /o/ t/ /e/, say the e. Then read it the way we say it "vote". "Cheese" would be /ch/ /ee/ /s/ /e/ "cheese". "ee" is a phonogram. Do this nightly. Read the list once they way we write it all the way through, then read the list once just reading it normally, without sounding. The more they SEE the word, the better they know it. This takes very little time as well. If you are a last minute studier, quit reading, none of this will work. You have to be honest about the amount of effort that goes into this. It seems liks a lot at first, but soon they will do ALL of this on their own, without you.

11. Take a practice test nightly. Now, they write it. This is the more time consuming part. Now, you have to "teach" them to use the sounds to spell. You can call a word out and separate the syllables. Tell them to listen to each sound in the syllable. A syllable has one vowel sound in it. Not one vowel, one vowel sound. "Nice" has one vowel sound /i/, one syllable. Sound it for them as they should learn to sound it. Have them sound each sound out to you as they write each phonogram always. "dozen" would be "doz" "en". /d/ /o/ /z/ /e/ /n/. Sound the short e here. The more you do this with them, the more they will naturally go to that strategy during the test (and homework)

12. Be patient! They are learning. The spelling grade may slip at first, but the trade off is that they are learning to spell. After a bit, they will use the strategy more, and grades will come back up. They will not memorize words anymore, they will spell them. They will spell all other words, as well, much better because they have a strategy.

Memorizing has worked for us? Why can't I just keep doing that?
A kid who memorizes the order of letters, mixes the letters up and misses them on tests. They also can't spell that same word 2 weeks later when it's not on the spelling list. After middle school, there are no more spelling tests, and your kid still won't know how to spell. They've put a band-aid on the wound and it never fixed itself. You must plan for the future in everything. One day, they will be expected to soar. You have to give them the tools. Without the proper tools, they will not be as successful as their peers. If my child needs glasses, I get her glasses. If my child can't spell, I help them to learn how to spell. Glasses are quicker, but you get the point. I didn't say it would be easy.
Do not depend on your school. Textbooks design lists this way. They are only following what they are supposed to teach. Since most kids can memorize a list, they let them, give them spelling homework so they write them nightly, and move on to bigger and better things, like reading and math. Oh, by the way, your poor speller is also struggling in reading which is not just something they need in reading. They need it for every test they take. They can memorize answers, but if they can't read the words, they can't figure out the correct multiple choice answer. They probably bomb every math word problem, too.

My child leaves out vowels where you can clearly hear the vowel? What do I do?
YOU can clearly hear that vowel, but they do not. This is my conclusion for it. Vowel sounds are made with your mouth open. Your tongue touches nothing. In the word "cat" I hear and FEEL the sound in my mouth /k/ and /t/. The short "a" gets lost because it feels like a transition from /k/ to /t/ rather than a sound that takes up space in a word. Working on vowels is key for these kids. Pick up a game of "Vowel Bingo" They'll love it and it builds the skill very well.

My child puts random letters where they obviously do not belong in his schoolwork?
He's guessing. Pure guessing. He has too little an understanding of the letter sounds. If it's not a memorized spelling word, he cannot spell it. Sure, he makes straight A's in spelling, but his intelligence is fine, remember? He can memorize the order of the letters!

This is a seriously long post. I apologize. It was much smaller in my head.

Lesson: I have a lot to say about spelling.

~ACZ

Life Lesson

2012-09-23T20:37:00.002-05:00

My son has been playing football and baseball during the fall. This means 2 baseball practices per week, 2 football practices per week. Games start next week. His heel has been giving him trouble as boys of the this age will sometimes experience. We plan to call the doctor tomorrow to check it out. Today, when I picked him up from practice, he was not on the field. He was sitting on the sideline with a "limp". I was furious.

I know I sound heartless, but he had not limped until I told the coach he had been having pain, and he did not limp at the end of practice during field clean up. I asked about it when he got in the car, and he said the coach was not very nice. I knew what he meant. The coach was tough. In this world of "let's give everyone a trophy and call them a winner", this is the age where the athletes survive. So, it's time to make a choice. You'll suck it up and hang in there, or you'll quit...but if you quit, you can't go back. Make a decision.

Again, I know it's tough, but our kids need someone to tell them to be better than they think they can be.

It was time for the David Thibodaux talk.....

and so it goes...

My first year of college was an eye-opener. I realized that my high school education had not much prepared me for what was to come. I had Dr. Thibodaux for English 101. As most students know, you scout out your professors before scheduling, getting the low-down on the workload, testing, etc. Well, I didn't know this strategy yet. This class was tough. He graded HARD! No grammatical error slipped by him, and he had high expectations. He took no learning differences into account. He graded everyone as an equal. I worked so hard for that first-year English class. In fact, I never worked that hard in any other class for my whole college career. I hated every second of it. I had homework all the time. I could not wait until it was over.
...When it was finally over, I breathed a giant sigh of relief...and signed up to have him for English 102. Was I crazy? I just knew he had challenged me, taught me, and I wanted to know more.

You see, this man was not an ogre. He was gentle, caring, and intriguing. He had a large family, served on the Lafayette Parish school board for years as a voice for teachers fighting for smaller classroom sizes and higher teacher pay, a political activist, ran for Congress several times while I was his student (and nearly won). In fact, during one of these campaigns, his opponent claimed that Dr. Thibodaux, an author as well, had written pornographic works. In fact, it was his dissertation that had earned him tenure at UL, or something like that. This political trash talking came out days before the election and probably costed him the seat.

I learned more from 2 semesters as his student than any professor taught me. I am an English teacher today and a self-proclaimed Grammar Nazi all because of what I learned in his classroom in Griffin Hall.

Dr. Thibodaux lost his life in a motorcycle accident in 2007. It was devastating. He had so much to offer to our students and community. Today, he is still remembered as a school board member who fought for his beliefs regardless of popular vote. Today, there is David Thibodaux Magnet Academy in Lafayette. A technical school named for the late Dr. Thibodaux.

I had the honor of being his student. I am so grateful.

Lesson: When the going get tough, the tough must get going. They have to want it. They have to earn it.

When my grandmother (and best friend) was fighting cancer, I wrote a note for her and posted it by her chair, "Tough times never last, but tough people do." We read it together every day when I would visit.

God Bless!
~ACZ

What Have I Done?!

2012-09-16T13:24:00.004-05:00

This morning, the kids and I took advantage of the beautiful day and took a bike ride into neighboring subdivisions. I knew it was time to come back when Abby had polished off the last of my water and her face was bright red. As we victoriously conquered the last uphill stretch near our house, I noticed a man putting his "trash" at the road.
This "trash" was a large fish tank. I would guess it is about a 50 gallon tank with a convex front. Next to it, was 2 boxes full of everyting a fish lover would need. Here is the conflict that wives go through in moments such as these. Do I tell my fish-tank-loving husband about said treasure sitting for free 2 doors down? This means that all existing honey-dos on the list will be scratched off and replaced with "GET FISH TANK SET UP". A fish tank that did not exist before this moment. A fish tank that does not have to exist at all.
I did the right thing...I told him. I think I saw smoke behind him as he raced out the door to pound on the neighbor's door, but I told him. He may not get that garage cleaned today, but I told him. I may not get that last set of blinds hung, but I told him. Our belongings may be in storage forever, but I told him. I'm a good wife, so I told him.
(((sigh))) Now, in our garage, we have this large tank, a smaller 20 gallon tank, a smaller 10 gallon tank, and all of the necessary parts and pieces for them to work. This neighbor apparently had plenty he was ready to ditch.
We got rid of a very large tank before our move. I was so happy to be done with it, I had a small party in my head. Now, as I inherit this family's past hobby, I can only imagine HIS wife doing a small happy dance in her kitchen as I prepare to take on this renewed hobby.
I guess this means I may never get that mantle we need either. [[[stomping foot]]]

~ACZ

Slowing Down

2012-05-26T09:55:00.000-05:00

May 18, 2012 is the day I became a better Mom. This did not happen because of me or anything I did that day. It happened because God needed me to pay attention to the blessings in my life.

It was a Friday, nearing the end of baseball season. All three of my kids decided to play baseball this season. This means that each kid has 2 games per week, and maybe one practice between the bunch. Catie also takes dancing on Wednesday nights, and, of course, there’s after school tutoring that I do, homework, and studying. Needless to say, our lives, since March, have not stopped.

It all began in the school day when Abby’s homeroom teacher pulled me aside and whispered to me that Abby had been nominated by her classmates to receive the David Award. This is an award given in each homeroom at their school. It is considered the highest honor a student can receive. It has nothing to do with how smart you are or how fast you are or how popular you are. It is based on your kindness to others. It is awarded to the student who exemplifies a true Christian. The fact that it is chosen by classmates makes it even more special. When her teacher told me, I had to leave the room to hide my tears. I could not be prouder of my middle child who, at times, does not realize the person she can be in life.

After school, I rounded everyone up, beaming with my new secret, and we headed home. It was dance rehearsal night! For a 4-yr-old who attends dance from August until May, THIS is the moment she’s been waiting for all year long. The day she can put on the pretty make up and the sparkly tutu! While we got ready for the big show, my son dressed for his baseball game and he and my husband headed to the ballpark. I would have to miss this game, which I never like to do.

On the way to the dance rehearsal, we were all so excited. I was so proud, again, that my youngest child was finally reaching her long awaited goal. I was also anxious to see how much she’d learned all this time! On the way there, I received a text from my husband. “Zac is PITCHING”. ….Another dream come true. Zac had been asking me for weeks, daily, if I thought coach would ever put him pitching. I kept telling him to ask the coach, but he never would, since he gets his shyness from me. I was missing it, but still so happy to be with Catie for her big day.

Catie performed so well, I was so proud. I was now beaming with THREE major accomplishments: The David Award, the dancer dancing, and my pitcher pitching. I realized, in that moment, driving to the baseball field after dancing, that I had lost focus. Our busy lives were taking away from our family. Since that day, I am more patient, I am more understanding, I am a better mom. These are my blessings. This is my one shot. I get it, God.

Oh, and to add to my pride even more, Zac pitched a good game. When I asked him why coach finally put him in, he said, “I asked.”

Abby with her St. David medal

My pitcher pitching

My dancer after her recital

A Day With My SLPs

2012-04-10T09:36:00.003-05:00

Top Ten Things to NOT do if you suddenly decide to invite yourself to friends' houses the day after a holiday when they have a house full of kids on Easter break amped up on sugar and feel like a train just came through their house in the form of a family celebration:

This day we chose to visit my SLPs, which means some of my friends from St. Landry Parish where I worked before moving.

10. BRING THE DOG.

This may result in the dog deciding to immediately poop in dear friend's yard directly under tree house where your child is playing. Your child will quickly step in poop with brand new Easter shoe causing you and your dear friend to worry about cleaning poop for about 20 minutes.

9. BRING THE DOG.
He may chase dear friend's neighbor, neighbor's dog, and SLEMCO man.

8. BRING THE DOG.
He may run into your friend's house over and over again because he thinks he belongs in everyone's house.

7. BRING THE DOG.
He may lurk around the table where children are eating lunch causing the entire group to eventually relocate for fear of losing pizza and breadsticks.

6. BRING THE DOG.
He may scare the dickens out of other dear friend's FOUR children, causing them to run and hide indoors, keeping you and your sweet children outside of the house while screaming in unison, "Why are you here?? What do you want?!?"

5. BRING THE DOG.
He may sit outside of the door in the backyard you've just placed him in, barking non-stop, even jumping on the door at certain points.

4. BRING THE CHILDREN.
They may accuse your dear friends' children of not playing fair, keeping gumballs from them, make a mess, and fake injuries for affect. They may also fight with each other to the point of utter embarrassment. In this case, firmly clench teeth and give long "mom stare" promising to deal with this when you return home. This strategy may or may not work for you, but it is all I could come up with.

3. BRING THE FAMILY DRAMA QUEEN.
Your sweet four-year-old will prove to all the drama queen that she really is under this type of pressure. She will fight with everyone involved and cry to get her way no matter what goods and riches you promise her. She will disrupt many conversations with these complaints, return to the kid area, start another argument, and immediately return to you. This cycle is never ending. For dealing with this type of behavior, see #4.

2. BRING THE DOG.
Your dear friend's sweet, curly haired two-year-old may or may not find the dog's leash and chew on it endlessly. Hide all evidence of this ever happening.

1. BRING THE DOG.
He may chase your dear friend's cat, causing the feline to run straight up the screened porch to a height no one thought possible. Feline will eventually come down only to run straight back up each and every time your dog enters through the doggy door placed in both front doors.

Lesson: Leave Pepper at home when making surprise visits to long lost friends.

~ACZ

I Swear We're Nice People

2012-03-31T14:27:00.003-05:00

Last night we were invited by some new friends to a much needed crawfish boil at their home. Finally! Moving to a new town and making new friends is not as easy at it may seem. I mean, we'd look a little weird knocking on someone's door and asking them to come out and play, right? At times,the shy kid comes out in me and I don't quite know how to just say, "Hey, maybe we could all have dinner one night?" Well, honestly, that's not the only hurdle. We all have 1,648 kids and have to find sitters, arrange our schedules around baseball games, dancing, birthday parties, sick kids, etc, etc, etc. There is also my profession. My son is in my class, so these are the parents a normal mom would meet and spend time with, BUT...I teach their kid. How weird is it to have your teacher's kid ask you to hang out. haha! That just made me laugh thinking of it! .....(still laughing)..........................ehem!

Anyway, we were invited to the home of a couple whom Todd and I both adore. They have small children and I knew Catie would love it. After our 5:30 T-ball scrimmage where Catie's team won with an imaginary, made up score of 8-2, we headed over. The crawfish was incredible. Kudos to our hosts. But then, it happened. As the adults enjoyed each others company in a much needed huddle on the back patio, the kids' Friday Fatigue (as I call it) started becoming apparent. It started when their sweet 5-year-old son came screaming from the darkness because he was hit in the face with something never really identified, I guess. My son and the other 10-yr-old there come behind him saying that HE was throwing stuff FIRST! Really?? You chose THIS NIGHT to defend yourself against a 5-year-old? That was it, the start of a series of several events that made Zac seem like he and Charles Manson were in cahoots. Catie was her usual high spirited self and spent her time being social with the little kids, only embarrassing me the one time she came out with some contraption which she put on her chest and called "boobies". Nice.

As a mom of three and a teacher of 76, there are times we can't explain why a normally sweet kid suddenly goes postal for an evening. The night was fun, which is good, since it was probably our last. I swear we're nice people with nice kids. Really! I mean it!

These are my kids 2 hours before the evening crawfish boil. We dragged them out for more fun with full knowledge of their Friday Fatigue. What were we thinking?

Lesson: Simple. Live and learn.

~ACZ

Embarrasing Mom/Teacher Moment #3452

2012-03-20T11:31:00.005-05:00

This morming we arrived at school earlier than ever. Ever so proud of ourselves, we leapt out of the Expedition cheery-eyed and bushy-tailed. As we all gathered our 872 things needed for our school day, I realized Abby's booksack was missing! I looked at Abby and asked, "Abby, where is your booksack?" "I put it behind the truck this morning," she replied.........................................................................................
(Mental Note: Text Todd to retrieve book sack from driveway before the rain.)

Upon arriving into my classroom, I get a call....................from Todd...............Apparently the neighbor found Abby's book sack in the middle of the road and rang the doorbell. "Not to worry," Todd said, "they have a kid in Abby's class and will bring it with them to give to Abby."

Enter mortifying eMbArRaSsMeNt!!!! Yes, that's right, this morning I backed up feeling like I'd conquered the world since we were so early, not realizing that I was dragging my poor 8-year-old's sweet flowery blue monogrammed book sack SEVEN feet into the middle of the street. Lurching forward, oblivious to the scene I was leaving for the new neighbors to ogle over. To top it off, to my rescue comes a neighbor whom I've NEVER MET, WHOSE SON I WILL TEACH NEXT YEAR!

Unbelievable. If you need me, I'll be hiding under my desk.

**Update: Just met the Mom in the school cafeteria while she had lunch with her son. She introduced herself as the one who brought Abby's book sack to school and said it was so nice to meet me.

Shoot me.

Enter Stress

2012-03-18T21:00:00.005-05:00

Seriously? I have not posted a thing since December?? It's not that I've alienated you. It's just that...{{well}}...sometimes the stress of being a working mom becomes unfunny for a little while. Oh, I'm sure we've had our moments where we've visited a Wal Mart or arrived at school late that would have been "Class A" opportunity for a funny blog post. But, when you are living it...not so funny.

Anyhow, so today would have qualified for one of those days.....(I think I just felt my neck tighten just thinking about it.).....................................

3 words...Academy and baseball season. I know. Enough said.

It all starts with the general feeling of the day. Abby was a fighter all weekend. She was crabby and moody and grumpy. When asked to do anything, she did nothing. Well, she needed new cleats for softball. If she did not absolutely need them to be able to play, she would not have earned them this weekend for sure. As we were getting ready to leave, I lost my keys. Sure I lose my keys now and then, but I REALLY could not find them ANYWHERE. After about 30 minutes of searching, I found them under something on the kitchen counter...duh. During this 30 minute game of hide-and-seek, it allowed me, the Mom, to look in each room of my house. (For those that are not Moms, when we do this, we don't see rooms, we see each individual mess in each and every room that was just cleaned YESTERDAY!)...........................anyway.....So, Abby, her friend, and I finally pile in the car and head over. I was so hoping to be able to dart in and out since I only had 2 kids with me. Then we could make that stop at Target and Sam's that I really needed to make.

We arrive and go straight to the baseball cleats.  It becomes apparent that everyone in the parish, the baseball tournament down the street, and a few extra people from the highway have also decided that this will be the hour for their Academy visit as well. We squeeze our way down the narrow aisles, through the crowd (picture Wal Mart on Black Friday here).

The selection at Academy is vast, they have black, white, pink, red...Of course, we want pink.   Every year, we arrive and think we can pick any shoe from the selection. How wrong we are. THIS is the only Academy for miles! Not to mention, Abby has a small foot, which means less of a selection for some reason. Do they think that small-footed children do not play sports?? Anyway, we spend the next half hour searching for her shoe size. We start with the exact shoe she wants, then settle for next best, then finally after tireless searching, we snatch the one and only size 12 1/2 on the shelf. It's a boys' shoe with no trace of pink or purple :( We decide that cute shoelaces can fix that. Did I mention that anything below a size 1 is on the very bottom shelf? Did I mention the crowd? Did I mention they were all over the floor trying on shoes? Did I mention the profuse sweating?? Picture me, sweating from the sheer stress of the situation, pulling out shoe box after shoe box, trying on countless shoes, a 12 foot metal stock ladder in the middle of all of this madness going back and forth....UPSIDE DOWN!!! as children cry, whine, run and scream around us!!!

Finally, we prevail, settle on a boy shoe, grab some cute shoelaces, and exit the madness. Abby proudly holds her new cleats in her arms. We spend a few more stressful moments picking up baseballs and socks for Zac and new athletic shoes for me. ((Oh yeah, Abby's friend was wearing Heely's, and they were zooming back and forth down random aisles all around me. I had no control)) As we make our way to the counter, I am frustrated at the amount of time it took to find this single pair of shoes. It happens every year. Why do I wait so long to get what we need??

We find the shortest line, I put my merchandise on the counter, turn to Abby, and she says, "Where are my shoes?"....(((breathe)))).....ehem, "I don't know Abby, where are your shoes?" (((remain calm)))
"I don't know," she replies.....(((pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse))))

We gathered our things, spent the next 20 minutes walking, searching, zooming down every single aisle we had visited, which was a lot. Back and forth, back and forth. We never found them. We had to start over. Yes, you heard me...back into the trenches....upside down. As we were searching for the second time, I said to Abby, "I am so mad I want to scream." I noticed that my comment got a "look" from a woman who had no children with her shopping for herself. You know the look. It's the "I can't believe she just told her child that" look.  It's the same look you give other people in Wal Mart. ~~I wanted to punch her.~~ I wanted to jump out of a window! Alas, Academy has no windows....smart.

We settled on a boys' shoe a half size up, grabbed yet another cute pair of laces, paid, and left. Good riddance! The next time I mention a trip to Academy, remind me that it's Todd's turn.

RALPHIE

2011-12-20T19:06:00.000-06:00

      Do you remember Ralphie from the movie A Christmas Story ? There is a scene where he imagines his teacher grading all of the essays and marking them with F, F, F, while sobbing in disappointment....THEN...she gets to Ralphie's essay, reads it, gasps, weeps in delight and marks A, A, AAAAAA. Then Ralphie wakes up from his daydream. It doesn't turn out as he expected.

       This is one of my all time favorite movies for a few reasons. Never mind how Dad pronounces the word "fragile". It shows a child in his true light. He hates the bunny costume. He wants what he wants for Christmas no matter how ridiculous. He knows what he wants to tell Santa and nearly misses the opportunity to sheer shyness. He's scared to death of a bully who is really just a creep of a kid. He has curse words in his dictionary, but does not use them at all...well, until the slip up. Most of all, he has this incredible imagination.

       The relationship between a teacher and student is special. In the 4th grade, I played the role of "Fern" in Charlotte's Web. I was super shy, just like my middle daughter. I spoke to no one (((ever))). I had this incredible imagination and a deep love of reading, though. The first time I read Charlotte's Web by E. B. White, I was so enthralled in this book, that I missed my bus stop. When I looked up from my book, I was in the next town. I was slouched down in my seat, so no one noticed. My brother and sister had gotten off at our house and not noticed I had not {{Well, that's another issue}}. My teacher saw the passion I had for this story and gave ME ((the shyest kid in the grade)) the lead. I practiced, practiced, practiced, for weeks and weeks. I imagined what it would be like. I imagined applause, laughter, gasps, standing ovations...the works. The play was a success...well, I guess it was.   Who knows. It's what my child mind wanted it to be. I am still grateful to that teacher for believing in me.

          That feeling has helped me as a teacher. My parents were always terribly involved in school, so every holiday we showed up with gifts. My mind worked as all children's minds work. My mom would show me the gift, or I'd help to make something. She would wrap it and put my name on it to give the next day. My mind would race with possible reactions...jump up out of her chair and hug me....announce to the class that this was the best gift she received....tell me she always wanted that exact thing....let me know how she could use it. I don't remember specific reactions, but I know what I imagined. I imagined that I had made my teacher so happy.   Today, when I get a gift, I do my best to make that child feel like this is their moment. I always come up with a reason I need it, where I can use it, how much I have been wanting this!   It could be a fabulous gift card to my favorite spot...or it could be a craft that a child made because her parents couldn't afford gifts (those are pretty special). I receive each gift with a hug, if possible. I hope that a child never goes away feeling that I did not appreciate their kind act. As a teacher at a private school, I had to pull my truck up to the classroom to load up all of my Christmas goodies. Each gift is so special to me, not because it is exactly what I have been wanting or needing, but because each one of those kids were so proud to give a gift to someone that was such a big part of their lives. Whether you see it or not, a teacher and a child can have a pretty special relationship. It's why I teach. Every child deserves success and encouragement. I hope I fulfilled the imaginations this week.

Thank you to all of my angels for so many special gifts this week:)

Merry Christmas,

ACZ

Lesson: God has given me the gift of teaching. It's not all rainbows and sunshine, but it touches a child. I am blessed.

SANTA

2011-11-27T20:06:00.001-06:00

Santa Claus. Well, he used to start appearing just after Thanksgiving in the local mall when I was a kid. We have plenty of pictures of my brother and sister and me in matching outfits, frilly socks for Britt and me, clip-on tie for Nick. Britt always wore braids. I was the cute one in the middle ;)

I think Santa was at Dillard's back in the day (or another major department store). As you entered the area to line up, it was a magical, makeshift hallway with Christmas figures and decorations. I don't mean just a little. A lot. It was fake, white, puffy snow, white and silver glitter, white lights, Rudolph, carolers, evergreens all through this very loooong hallway where the line winded and winded and winded...until finally, after ooooing and aahhhing the whole way, you came to the front where the man of the hour was sitting. There were elves, presents, candy canes. I was a very shy kid, but I am not sure any child could resist the grand finale of sitting on Santa's lap after all of that hype. You know what happened from there. I told Santa what I wanted, received my obligatory candy cane, and off we went.

Santa is different these days. He sits in the middle of the mall, amid the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, at the end of a long, boring, no frills line. I think I brought Zac to see Santa when he was little only because I felt I was supposed to as a new mom. That was the last time. It's not because the "magic" is not there (or because those pictures cost and arm and a leg). It's because my shy kids might stroke out if I would actually make them sit on Santa's lap. Year after year, I see pictures of kids screaming on this giant, scary man's lap. I just don't see the point. Who knows, maybe one day I'll look back and wish I had those kinds of pics. Actually, as I think this, I imagine the petrified kids I would see in those photos. I imagine what a cat looks like when you try to put it in a bathtub.

So here we are. Another Christmas. With Catie growing up and noticing more around her, it's a different Christmas experience. Santa is everywhere now. Today it was WalMart. No longer do I have the option of quickly shuffling past Santa. Catie stops, pivots, gasps, and is on Santa's lap before I can notice where she went. Abby, to my right, whispers, "I don't want to go, " as she quickly shakes her head.

Last week, we had a visit with Santa while visiting my mom. It was a Country Christmas (a week before Thanksgiving and 87 degrees). We were some of the first in line, and Santa was in a great, big, magical sleigh. Catie bounced in and out happily. Abby was lured in by a very clever, rosy-cheeked Santa Claus waving a candy cane. That was not the case this time. This Santa just was not as magical sitting between the crafts and the $5 DVD display at WalMart. As we walked away, I could see Abby's entire little body relax a little, as if to say, "Whew! That was a close one."

Lesson:
<------This is not fun. (No, these are not my kids)

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

~ACZ

Heroes

2011-11-06T21:22:00.002-06:00

I am not sure what draws me to think of certain heroes so often...but, I do. Military. Active or not. It is unbelievable to me that these everyday people make a decision to put their own lives at risk to ensure that my country is a free and safe place to live...and that others have a safe place to live around the world. Whether or not you believe that war is right and just, we all owe so much to these men and women. It doesn't stop there. They leave families behind. There are husbands and wives holding up the fort while their spouse is deployed for months and months and months. They are absent for births, birthdays, first steps, graduations, deaths, heartaches, Christmases, report cards, and so much more that I cannot even imagine.

When they come home, we celebrate, throw parties, honor them, and tell them how much we appreciate them, AS WE SHOULD.

But, then, we go on living our lives, as they go on...dealing with all of the memories they will forever hold of their deployment. We go on living, and they go on dealing. Simply dealing. Dealing with adjusting to this life that they once left. With this life that they have returned to. They deal with the memory of the life of when they were gone for SO long, in another surreal world. In that life, I can only imagine, the heartache for the desire to be with their family must be so great. I can imagine that they must remember only the good of life back at home. They must be so anxious for the comfortable feeling of American living.

When they return, though, they are left to find work again. Sure, their jobs are supposed to be available for them upon return, but it is not always the case. They are returning to the fairy tale they dreamed of during their deployment. In actuality, they return to a life we ALL know. The economy. Money. Kids arguing. the daily 9-5. In addition, they can add the stress of their memories. Memories we cannot imagine. War. No one else talks much about it. How would you? No one brings it up, really. They just have to deal with it.

I have an uncle who proudly served for 10+ years in the military, was in the Delta Force, and has secrets he will take to the grave. He is one of the kindest, most thankful people I know. For the trees, the early morning sunrise, his morning coffee, his family. He rarely complains of the back pain inflicted from shrapnel from enemy fire. He texts often how much he loves us all. He has seen so much. He knows a blessing when he sees it. I am so thankful for his courage and service to our country. I can count my cousins, Seth and Christie, and a few friends from the past that have sacrificed so much to serve. I am so thankful to all of them, more than words can even express.

Friday is VETERAN'S DAY! Don't wait until Friday to pat a VET on the back. Do it every chance you get. They deserve it.

Lesson: Heroes are disguised as everyday people who did something great.

~ACZ

FiElD tRiP!!!!

2011-10-29T08:47:00.001-05:00

Ah, field trips! A day we dedicate to the kids from dusk until dawn just to have a little break from the normal classroom humdrum and trick them into learning :)

Today was our annual field trip to our Louisiana State Capitol and the Louisiana Art and Science Museum. Our trip began bright and early at 6:45 am when we loaded two chartered buses and traveled east for 2 hours. For the teachers, this meant 2 hours of work talk about how to figure schedules, how to help our struggling students, and reviewing options for the upcoming Advent celebration at school. For the kids, this meant loading up on early morning junk food brought from home, chatting on the DSi, playing ipod touches, or simply reading a book.

The museum was a bit rushed, but the activities were enjoyable. We were having fun learning. Who needs a bathroom break anyway? Our kids learned the science behind why we cannot touch art due to the oils in our skin and the damage it does over time. They also learned how to build a series electrical circuit, a parallel circuit, and how to make a light bulb work with a D battery.

The Capitol was the best, though Thank God I teach Social Studies. I love history. In addition to being a grammar nerd, I get abnormally excited to learn about history. I'm pretty sure my students do, too (wink, wink).

I have a student in my class who has struggled all of his life in the classroom. Of course, he's not the only one. This kid, however, has a shy personality and lacks confidence in the classroom. It is obvious to me, and, unfortunately, it is obvious to his peers. He requires help that others don't. Well, yesterday was his day to shine. His dad is a former Senator, former Louisiana Representative, and currently holds an office in our state government. I was hoping he would just be able to meet his son at the capitol and enjoy the tour, since this child's parents don't live in the same city. The second his foot hit the ground off of the bus, he turned to me, and said, "Mrs. Adrienne, I don't see my dad." Well, there is a bit of the walk up to the capitol, so I told him to wait until we get there.

As we approached, there his dad was, waiting for our arrival. He came to me and said he had arranged to do the tour himself with the help of another tour guide. He arranged to have us tour the House, the Senate (these are the norm), and he would take us into the Governor's office, too! He swore in all 75 of the students as Honorary United States Senators, called them all Senators as we toured, gave them Senate pins, let them run their fingers along the bullet holes still in the wall from Huey Long's assassination, showed us the pencil that remains in the Senate ceiling after a bomb exploded there long ago, and escorted our whole loud crew into the Governor's office. His son beamed as he stood beside his dad as he told us some history behind the items that hang there. He had that "I'm trying not to smile so I can remain cool but I really can't help it" smile. His dad introduced himself to all of us with the offices he has held, currently holds, "but, most importantly" as his son's dad. He ended the tour by taking all of the kids to the top of the capitol from the 4th floor of the Governor's office. What a treat!

Finally, as my half of the group roamed the top of the the nation's tallest capitol building overlooking the Mighty Mississippi, I got a call. Our time was up. It was 3:00, and the other half of the group had not been able to come to the top. I just couldn't imagine telling the 40 kids in GROUP B, half of the group, that they could not come up. So, I made a quick decision and told my team teacher to let only the kids up with one parent per group, leaving lots of parents on the ground floor. It was the only way to lessen the amount of people. The elevators are small and take a long time to get up there. I probably made a few parents unhappy, but the fied trip would not have been complete without those kids coming up, and they NEVER would have forgotten that they didn't get to come up. They came up. It took a long time. We left 45 minutes late. I worried about that decision all the way home since I had heard that some parents were not thrilled with it.

My son is in my class this year and calls this the best field trip he's ever had. After we were home, I asked, "What was your favorite part of the entire day?" "Going to the top, "he said. He was in GROUP B. So, I've decided I'll take the blame if any. It was worth it.

I can't wait to get to school Monday and start working on thank you notes for these men who made our day so special....and of course tricking them again into writing a friendly letter.

Lesson: Kids remember heartbreak longer than they remember a good time. I'm glad there were none today.

~ACZ

Zac at the top overlooking the Mississippi.

Over 100 of us crammed into the Governor's office.

The Senate

The kids being sworn in as Honorary Senators

Father and son. Look at that sweet smile!

Times Three

2011-10-26T22:01:00.001-05:00

This is my life...this thought....times three.

When you have 3 kids, everything happens in threes. Not just bedtime, bathtime, dinnertime, morning time, and snacktime. Tuition to that sweet private school. New winter shoes. New winter coats. New winter wardrobes. New booksacks. New school supplies. New sporting gear. Christmas. Easter. In my case, birthdays since their birthdays fall in July, August, and September. Halloween.

Halloween...have you been to a costume store? Are they insane? I guess there are some people out there who pay $40 for a costume to wear one single night. That's not me. In fact, we have been blessed to have hand me down costumes most years. This year, we're on our own though. I was able to talk Catie into wearing her "beautiful princess dress" in her closet. I bought a cheap tiara and robe to complete the ensemble. Zac will be a zombie like every other 10-yr-old this year. Abby is difficult. She is not girly at all. She would wear the dracula costume if I allowed it. She finally decided on a lady vampire and only if blood can drip from the corner of her mouth.

So, tonight, after dancing, we decided to make the trip to the dreaded costume shop. It is important to know that no mother toting more than 1 child in the history of the world has ever left a store feeling like a successful parent. We either leave utterly embarrased that these whiny children are following us out the door, starving and crabby because this trip was taken too close to dinner time, or like a total loser that we did not buy the 2,345 things that our kids asked us to buy THAT day. We get into filthy minivans and SUVs (noticing the mess again when opening the back door), fuss at the kids to get in already, drop a teddy bear and a DVD on the ground, throw it back in, and calmly back up while trying to see around our 45 blind spots that our cool SUVs have brought to our lives. We eventually calm down before the return home and all is well with the world again.

Anyway, the shopping trip. Just as expected, this entire scenario happened once again. Abby was a perfect angel and found a costume that did not cost $500. It was a dress :( but I told her she could put black leggings with it, so she's cool. Catie asked for eyeballs, a princess mask, clown hair, a bloody arm, a crawling zombie, spiders, a bloody ax, the dry ice machine, a pirate costume, fishnet stockings, and a zombie baby. The horrid zombie baby was $60 and she cried into the next store about that one. "I WANT THE ZOMBIE BABY!!!" {{{Who is this kid following me out the door?}}}

Next we had to go to Wal Mart for fangs to complete the ensemble (of course, the Halloween store was all out of fangs). Here, Catie asked for cantaloupe, donuts, a "cute" T-shirt, SLIPPERS!!!!, pumpkin lights, pumpkin candies, pumpkin napkins, pumpkin pretzels, a pumpkin, fangs, spiders, a hoola hoop, a basketball, some jeans, pajama bottoms, a purse, and cookies. She got the pajama bottoms since they were on clearance anyway. That was not sufficient. As usual, I left with an unhappy child whom I clearly do nothing for.....ehem....for whom I clearly do nothing. [[[[[don't end sentences in prepositions]]]]]

She has now nibbled on the few morsels of food that were lucky enough to grace her palate, she has fussed at me for not getting her some ice cream, and she has faked throwing up 3 times. It is time for the princess to lay that pretty head down.

Lesson: Leave the kids at home when shopping!

~ACZ

Is That a Garage I See?

2011-09-30T19:23:00.002-05:00

Today, as I returned from a looong day at work, I was able to smoothly pull into my new garage at my new house. Big deal, you may say. You have no idea. You see, at my old house I only was able to park in the garage on very few occasions. When my husband bought our SUV, he called me and said, "Honey, the truck won't fit in the garage. It's too wide. Should I still get it?" After drying my eyes from the tears of laughter, I said, "Todd, I don't park in the garage. Buy whatever you want!"

Now that we have moved, it has been a long process of unpacking and organizing to get to this day. How ever was this impossible task finally conquered?

Well, that's easy. You see, around 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon, my husband sent me a quick, innocent email just as my students went to PE. It said, "There's a kayak fishing tournament in Lake Charles this weekend. What do you think?" I had to sit back and give this some thought. My husband and I, in our 12 years of marriage, have always been very respectful of allowing each other the time to go and do what we'd like to do whether it be social or hobby.

Not this time. The reply he received was long, detailed, heartfelt, definitely more than he bargained for. To spare the details, it had something to do with junk...mess...clean...respect...work hard all day....hanging shades...love...garage...boxes...Sanford and Son...you get the point.

So, to make a long story short, I came home to a dust colored husband finishing the lawn and a wide open garage to pull into.

Lesson: Sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

~ACZ

Teacher Tip: Top Reading Mistakes

2011-09-20T18:31:00.002-05:00

This is a list I quickly decided to put together after working with a couple of kids today. When a kid has trouble with reading comprehension, it really affects them in all subjects. Worse than that, the kid's parents have no clue how to help. For advice on that, you must read this post:

http://atozlesson.blogspot.com/2011/06/teacher-tip-reading-like-champ.html

Moving on.....

TOP REASONS YOUR KID DOES NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY JUST READ:

1. They may not be stopping at ending marks. This makes sentences flow together in an odd sort of way. The meaing of the sentences are lost.

2. They make mistakes in reading and do not go back to correct what they read. When a child does this, they are not paying attention to the story, but sounding out the words...again, losing meaning.

3. They do not understand the vocabulary. The struggling reader will simply continue, hoping to get the meaning figured out. They typically do not. They passed up the sentence or two that would've helped.

4. They do not ever reread. If they do not understand what they read, or forgot, or was daydreaming while reading, they continue. They think that it will show their struggle if they have to read it again. When I tell a struggling reader that I have to read things more than once all the time, they are shocked. Their eyes actually get wide. They have no clue that successful readers reread and poor readers do not.

5. They do not envision what they read. I always thought this was a natural thing until my husband and a couple of friends said to me, "I don't see the movie in my head when I read" Gasp! Use art to help this skill. Have them draw their favorite scene and tell you about it. They are retelling the story when they do.

6. They are reading above their level. My daughter is notorious for this. She wants to read what her brother is reading. They are too hard. This causes frustration and eventual disinterest, causing them to think all reading stinks....and giving up.

7. They have not found a genre or author they enjoy. A dyslexic student came to me this week and said, "Hey! Mrs. Adrienne, I hate to read, but this book is so good! I can't put it down!" I quickly had him write down the series and the author encouraging him to find more books by him. He got in trouble for reading during class today:)

8. They do not find out anything about the book before reading. Have them read the back cover. If they do not, they spend the first few chapters distracted until they find out what is really going on here.

9. They are still learning how to read. In this case, read with them. Listen to how they read, and read to them in a way that fixes those mistakes, exaggerating your pause at a comma, the stop at an ending mark, the excitement with an exclamation, and the sadness the character may feel.

...and # 10~ Well, you'd have to read another post for #10. Here's the link.
http://atozlesson.blogspot.com/2011/01/teacher-tip-getting-that-dang-straw.html

God Bless!

ACZ

The Sprinkler

2011-09-14T19:44:00.000-05:00

My sweet little ballerina just came back from her second ever ballet class. Now, both girls can't get enough of dancing. Catie is showing Abby the pliet she has learned, which she insists is called "Cliet" /kleeyae/ {{no matter what you or I say}}. That is the extent of Catie's ballet knowledge thus far. Realizing this, Abby seized the opportunity to teach something new to her baby sister. Catie is now well versed in the "Salsa" (which looked more like a Tango). She then proceeded to teach Catie the more complicated Pas de Chat. To which Catie exclaimed,

"That's boring. I hope they teach us to do the Sprinkler."
((Immediately giving her best Sprinkler))

Lesson: Catie needs more involved classical ballet training, stat!
The sprinkler???

~ACZ

Drama Club

2011-09-11T21:54:00.000-05:00

I can't decide where the personality of my sweet youngest daughter, Catherine Alyce, also known as Catie, comes from. My middle child, Abby, clearly is my daughter in personality and all. I was the painfully shy tomboy that I see when I look at her. My son exhibits my personality when he is too indecisive. We are unsure about the influence which created Thing 3.

Catie, hmmmm...currently (past bed time) she is doing quick claps and shimmying from side to side mimicking Michael Jackson. Every now then, she busts into a quick rap about her socks and sandals (I think this is a Disney Channel thing). Daily, she makes fake phone calls to order room service..."Yes, this is Catie Zembower. I would like Honey Nut Cheerios and Cheetos and Apple Juice. I'm going to need A LOT! I'm SO hungry! Thanks. Bye." ....click..."Yes. This is Catie Zembower. I need a large pizza with everything on it. Thanks. Bye." click.

She fake calls fake friends. "Hi, this is Catie! Are you coming over to sleep? Okay, see you soon. Bye"...click...."Hi. This is Catie....ummm, I can come pick you up. I'll come in a little bit. Yes. Mmhm. Well, I drive a really big truck. We can go to California (squealing). My truck doesn't have seat belts either, so we don't have to buckle up!"...click.

I often have to say "Amen" to the Ritz cracker or Wheat Thin that is presented to me with a serious "The Body Of Christ". She changes her clothes 5 times a day. Spells things to me like, "Mom, d-a-h-f-r-g-v. That means I love you (head tilt, smile)." She thinks it is a cruel and unfair world when her brother and sister can have friends over and have sleepovers, but she can't. When asked who she would invite, she lists 3rd graders (Abby's friends).

She's a big faker. Often, when we are getting out of the car, she quickly closes her eyes and pretends she's sleeping. It would benefit her if she could control her laughter when faking, but she can't. Her eyelids flitter furiously as she tries hard to keep them closed while still making an effort to see my reaction. Lately, she has realized that if she fake sleeps through mass, she does not have to get up and down so often. So, immediately upon finding our seats, she goes limp in our arms, faking, faking, faking, then finally actually sleeping.

The most embarrassing so far, though, would have to be when Zac's 9-year-old visiting friend (also my 4th grade student) walked through the living room sans shirt after a stinky fishing trip on his way to the shower. Catie whistled at him, except she can't whistle, so she faked it in a high pitched squeal.

Dear God, give me patience and guidance and the knowledge I will certainly need to steer this child in a positive, fulfilling direction. Guide me to opportunities to help her imagination to grow. And please, God, show me the best location in our home for her first Oscar. Amen

~ACZ

My First Born

2011-09-09T21:18:00.003-05:00

Sunday is my son Zac's 10th birthday. He's growing up fast. This year, though, I have watched this boy turn more into a young man. This is a major year of growth. There are a few things that have happened recently, suddenly, overnight. A few nights ago, I was getting dinner on the table. It suddenly felt odd to give this big kid the plastic kid plate he's eaten dinner on for years and years. I shrugged and pulled out an actual full sized dinner plate for him. A few weeks ago we were barbecuing. It felt like we HAD to teach him about the barbecue pit and how to grill. So, now he grills. Tonight, at dinner, as I ordered drinks for everyone at a restaurant, I had to say, "Wait, instead of 3 child drinks, make that 2 child drinks and one regular." The biggest sign of all, though, may be that this alien has suddenly chosen to shower without whining, bargaining, complaining, sometimes without even being asked!

Sunday will be 10 years since that tragic day in New York, Washington D.C., and Shanksville, Pennsylvania where thousands of innocent fathers, brothers, mothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, friends, servicemen....(((children))) lost their lives. It was a day that our security of living in this invincible country was shaken, shattered. We've never gained that feeling back, either.

Zac was due on September 3, 2001. I was examined and told I had no progress, come back in a week. I was big, fat, pregnant, dying from the heat, and extremely anxious to meet my first child. We came back in a week. Still no progress. We were instructed to check into the hospital the next morning to be induced.

So, at 4:30 am Tuesday, September 11, 2001, we left for the hospital. Around 6:00 am, I was examined again, and was told still no progress. In fact, it seemed as though this baby was nowhere near the point for delivery. My doctor decided to schedule a C-section feeling my labor could be long and possibly dangerous for both of us. We would just wait in the room until the next available operating room. So, that's what we did.

All I could do was watch TV. A little before 9:00 the channel was interrupted because a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Shocked, I watched the horror of that burning building. Actually, I assumed it was a smaller plane, and not a passenger plane. I don't know why, but maybe I was more focused on the flames than the airplane. The news media, of course, stayed with the story. Suddenly, as a reporter stood in front of the flames, I watched a 2nd plane crash into the other tower {{{{silence}}}}}
Todd had been down the hall and came running into the room. "Did you SEE THAT??!" {{{Silence}}} This is when I realized the size and appearance of the planes.....passenger planes. This is when the magnitude of the events struck me...TWO passenger planes don't hit buildings on accident. Oh, and all of the people INSIDE the buildings!....oh, no. {{{Silence}}}} I don't remember even reacting or saying a word. I remember it all being surreal, trying to process what just happened, how many people may be killed...THIS will be my son's birthday. This tragic day will be the day I will also have cause for celebration. This was hard to process. It already felt wrong to celebrate...anything at all. My most joyous day of my entire life was immediately filled with sadness for these families who would lose loved ones on the same day I would welcome one. The day went on with 2 more terrorist attacks at the Pentagon and in Pennsylvania. Nurses and staff kept coming into my room, watching a bit of the news, then moving on to their next patient. I was glued to the TV until I was wheeled into surgery.

Zac was born at 12:24 pm. He had a head full of black hair and weighed 8 lbs., 12 oz. He had been so high up that they literally had to push down on my belly to get him out via C-section. (A hint of what motherhood would be like). We were thrilled. The rest of the world and all of its anguish disappeared for the time. Family and friends galore came to see this blessing that had come on such a dark day. I stayed in the hospital for 3 days.

I left the hospital on September 14th (as my cousin was being wheeled in to deliver her first as well). I remember that when we got to the car, we had a flat tire. Strange, I remember that now. Normally, I guess that would be a story to tell as you leave the hospital with your first born, but it is a vague memory. I was mesmerized at what had happened to Lafayette while I was in the hospital. The town was painted red, white, and blue. All cars had flags, stickers. Businesses had their windows painted...it was crazy. Everyone had been living with the circus of it all for these 3 days, and I had been ...absent. I was absent for over a week more as I stayed home while I healed. Again, when I left the house, the same patriotism could be seen everywhere. What a time that was! You almost felt an incredible bond with every American, like we had all been through this tragedy together.

We visited the site of the Flight 93 crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania about 6 years ago. What a feeling you get being there. It is nothing I can put into words. It's very spiritual. You just want to hit your knees and pray harder than you've ever prayed for peace to these victims and their families. You want to ask God "WHY???" over and over.

As I think back on that day, my feelings are like a roller coaster. Every year, for Zac's birthday, I feel I cannot fully enjoy it until I give credit where credit is due. This is Zac's birthday, but this is also the 10th year that loved ones and servicemen will be missed around the dinner table. It's the 10th year that those families will celebrate the upcoming holidays without their family members. It is the 10th year that our military risks everything to protect our freedom. It's the 10th year that military families sacrifice their togetherness for us. I cannot fully express my gratitude for any military who gave so much as a weekend dedicated to this cause. I cannot even begin to express my sympathy for those families who lost someone in New York, D.C, or Pennsylvania. Now, on to another bittersweet birthday.

Happy birthday, Zac.

This is Zac at age 4 in front of the shrine that has been

placed upon the fence in Shanksville, PA.

Peace,

ACZ