Our Amy

My cousin, Amy is our favorite. Amy is 15, she is your typical teenage girl. Loves sports, hanging out with friends, and texting on her cell phone. But, Amy has a secret. She has a fan club. This secret fan club consists of me, her 34 year old cousin. My two daughters, age 8 and 6. The ground she walks on is better because she walks across it. Tonight we had the pleasure of her company when we made cookies for Christmas. On Saturday, we visited with her at the Gingerbread festival. We try to spend as much time with her as our schedule permits. We are her biggest fans!

The thing we love about Amy is that she seems to want to spend time with us too! Perhaps no one has told her that when you are 15 you should roll your eyes more, or greet everyone with an abrasive attitude? Perhaps she doesn't realize that we are totally uncool?

I look at her, her attitude, her gentle spirit with my girls. I adore her ability to make them feel like they are very important, even though they have come in and wrecked her world. My girls arrived just as she was receiving the most attention. They have smothered that attention, I'm sure they have taken over. However, she has continued to love us in spite of our greediness.

I am astonished by her upbringing, I am hoping she will be the greatest influence upon my girls. They will see her model, her attitude, and her graciousness and want to be just like her.

She is "our Amy..."

Being Happy!

Be happy today. Be kind and be generous with your smile — you’ll start some ripples.
– Stacey Julian, Altogether Too Happy

Ruth, from Two Writing Teachers posted this quote today. I needed it desperately! Today, I envisioned myself doing something else. A different vocation actually sounded appealing to me today... In a world where people throw accountability around for accountability sake, I was ready to throw in the towel. I am tired, tired of fighting for what I am sure is the best thing for my students. I am tired of collecting data and wondering, "when are we going to do something with it?" Do you ever wonder: "where does all the data go?" I turn it in but nothing ever comes of it, it becomes balanced somewhere I guess...

Today, I found it hard to be generous with my smile, I wanted to go into room 142, shut the door and be with my kids. I want to give them all things, everyday, things that I know through my own research that they will grow as readers, writers, and mathematicians. I'm tired of sharing with people not ready to learn, people who are critical, and people who aren't willing to work hard. I'm tired of official people mandating that I need to assess, assess, assess, and then I watch my instruction diminish, diminish, diminish.

But, I'll go back tomorrow. I'll persevere through this rough patch, I'll do what I am asked, and I'll keep on believing. Not for you, or you, or you, but for those 24 students that I stand in front of every day. I owe it to them for they are the reason why I go there everyday, not to assess them, collect data, or for balance. I go there to teach them to love learning, to light the fire within, and guide along side them.

Tomorrow, I will be happy!

Memoir Monday

Waiting in the church nursery preparing to go upstairs my mother found me and shared with me that we would not be starting on time. My heart skipped a beat, had he escaped, was he here? Why were we not starting on time?

We ascended the basement stairs to the waiting area behind the sanctuary, this is where I would wait, and wait, and wait. Since I awoke that morning I had been waiting. Waiting at the hair dressers, waiting to get lunch, waiting until everyone had been seated. This was a day of waiting, and I hate waiting.

I heard the the sweet music of my wedding. I watched my flower girl, Amy, playing with some small toys. Completely unaffected by the timing of this day she was lost in her world of 5 years. Playing until she was called. Dressed prettily, the sun shone through the glass windows and her bright face met mine with a smile. My face returned her contentment and decided to wait with that attitude.

Finally, the candles lit, the runner placed it was our turn to walk down the aisle. With my fathers hand placed carefully on mine I descended to meet my groom. Fighting back tears I was anxious to embrace him. I had been waiting all this day, this summer, my life for this moment.

My father took my hand and placed it in his, and we began our life as one...

As I turned to leave I caught a glimpse of Amy, she was standing next to her mother, my aunt. She waved in my direction, I caught her smile as it spread across her face. Captured in this moment, I was whisked away to my new life.

My Heart...On the Outside

here they are, together...my heart on the outside

they walk among this earth

mingling, living, and coexisting

I worry, protect, and hover

around them

conscious that others may harm

but to not let them live, create, or prosper

means that this world would be without them

this sense of humor, this compassionate lover,

this beautiful heart sleeve, full of passionate change

what will you be?

whom will you change?

how can I make you into that person?

or this heart sleeve,
beautiful eyes, charming smile, always wondering...
questioning, black and white- forget the gray
tender heart
how can I make you stronger?
will I protect your esteem forever?
how can we foster your strength?



and, finally my heart sleeve,
we started as the two, slowly becoming 4
keep me ever in this circle, loving me close
caring for me deeply
for I wear my heart
on my sleeve...

My Closest Friend

As I opened the door of my dorm room I could hear her voice at the other end of the hall. She was already having fun. I was nervous as I opened the door, my arms full of things from home. My mother and father had pulled away, tearful I had raced up the three flights of steps to my home away from home. Putting things away I could still hear voices, fun voices, voices who had been here for a while. Later that evening, while I attended freshman orientation, and met with the other girls on my floor, I matched her voice to the voice I had heard when I arrived.

"Hey, my name is Angela. I'm from Colorado." she shyly said.

"Hey," I said.

I learned that she had arrived a couple weeks early, she and her father had driven all the way from Colorado to Indiana so that she could attend volleyball camp. She had been here all this time, waiting, and waiting. I felt for her so far away from home. All by herself, in a new state, without anyone.

We became instant friends she and I. She had so many life experiences, we had many classes together, and she got my sense of humor. We giggled until the wee hours of the night. She complained of the Indiana humidity, I complained about being away from home. We went to Denny's late at night, and church on Sundays.

Those two years at Anderson were the hardest years of my life. I struggled with friendships, studying, and being with people constantly. Angela, was always there, always encouraging me, and always being fun.

Today, we live 18 hours by train from one another. We call frequently, we email often, and we meet on Facebook every Saturday. I want to be with her more, but I know that when we talk, when we finally get to be together, our friendship will be the same. We are the closest of friends. I never had sisters, Angela has two, but I would consider her my own. Not because we always have fun together but because she has been my friend through it all. She puts me in my place, helps me hash out feelings that are harsh, and she laughs through my joys.

Living with Flat Stanley

My name is Flat Stanley, I have been spending time at Sarah's house during the Thanksgiving weekend. Here I am sitting with Sophie and Sydni while we watch Kung Fu Panda. Sarah is making the popcorn while her husband is taking this picture. I am having a great time! The girls are so nice to me, after they heard the story of why I am flat they have decided to show me a great time.
Here I am getting ready to go see the lighting of the Santa in downtown Fort Wayne. That will be fun but I wish that whoever made me would have made me a coat too. It is freezing here!

Tomorrow I am going on a hike at Sarah's grandma's house. I know that will be a lot of fun.

There is a lot to do here during the weekend. On Friday I got up real early to go Christmas shopping with Scott and Sarah. I know what the girls are getting for Christmas!

On Saturday, last night, I went to the Festival of the Trees. Sarah and Mrs. Barney went there and the trees were beautiful. We keep very busy!

I will be glad to be back at school on Monday, it will be a good rest for one tired Stanely!

It Seems Like a Lot of Fluff...

So I heard this phrase this week: "This writer's Workshop thing seems like a lot of fluff..."
Makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up doesn't it? Me too!

I pondered this statement a little further. I want my workshop to be fluffy. Any time I have ever read a book, or article that has touched me in some way I can imagine that it has been written with a certain flair of fluff. Any time I have every read something that has changed my life whether it be professionally or personally it has been surrounded by "fluff." Touching quotes that make me think, personal stories that make me weep, and differing ideals that make me stand up against the flow, these are the things that may be considered "fluff."
As I teach writer's workshop each day with my students I want them to believe that their "fluff," is real. Their words matter, what they have to say on a daily basis is important to me, and if that means I have to create an environment that others would consider too "fluffy" then so be it. This is my most important task, creating a world for children in which they believe that their words are worth putting down on paper. A world of fluff.