One Little Word Wednesday: Shoulders

It is Wednesday, right? Some weeks kick my butt and this is another one of them. When I have weeks like this--days full of evening school activities, parent-teacher conferences, and after school meetings, my family has to shoulder more of the load at home. As long as I communicate my needs, my husband pitches in without complaint.  Even during an easier week, I bring my job home with me every night. There is always a report to write, emails to respond to, and lessons to create. And on days when my school bag stays unopened on the chair, I'm still teaching and planning in my head. My husband has put up with it for 25 years. Being the spouse of an educator isn't easy, and I tend to forget that.

One Little Word Wednesday: Shoulders

My son, had shoulder surgery in January this year. A torn labrum from football. His surgeon came well recommended. In fact, he only does shoulders. He even works on the Detroit Lions. My son goes to physical therapy two to three times a week and sees the surgeon every six weeks. In the last seven months, he has had three surgeries: pilonidal cyst excision, wisdom teeth pulled, and now his shoulder repair. Along with his PT, he continues to see a wound specialist every two weeks to monitor the healing of his cyst removal.  He still isn't completely healed from his surgery in July. Despite all the doctors, medications, hospitals, and the humiliation he continues to endure as I pack his wound daily, he keeps his sense of humor. It has been a difficult year. Today is his 16th birthday.

One Little Word Wednesday: Shoulders

I didn't pick my one little word for 2013 until February. I chose the word shoulders. I have no idea why other than the word kept coming back to me. When I think of shoulders, I think of my grandma. Her shoulders were not sloping or narrow. They were broad and square. She had a perfect figure, an hourglass, which I did not inherit. I remember seeing pictures of her in tailored suits with padded shoulders. I don't have narrow shoulders either but they are not square like my grandma's. I have one that is lower than the other. My spine is twisted like a rotini at the base. I never knew I had a screwed-up spine until I went to a chiropractor a few years ago for hip pain. He showed me the spiral in an x-ray of my lower back. Could that whorl be the reason one leg of my pants was always shorter or why when I was in labor, the epidural only worked on one side of my body? Physical therapists have assured me that I don't have a discrepancy in leg length, so I figure it must have something to do with that corkscrew.

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

First day of school was a foggy one.

Tuesday evening at 9:21 pm

I looked up my son's bus number on the school website for the second or third time. He'd have to be at the stop by about 6:50 AM.

Bus 81

First pickup at Lincoln Rd. & Robinwood Dr. at 6:44 a.m. Left on Robinwood Dr., left on S. Dixie Hwy., right on Kay Dr. picking up at Aimy Dr. Right on Poplar Dr. picking up at Teakwood Dr. Lef ton Teakwood Dr., left on Raven Parkway, right on Timber Lane, right on E. Dartmoor, left on Charing Cross to pickup. Left on Wimbledon Park Dr. picking up at Woodpine Dr. Left on Woodpine Dr. picking up at W. Dartmoor Dr. Right on Timber Lane, right on W. Brookshire Dr. picking up at Shadowood Dr. Left on S. Dixie Hwy., right on Northfield Dr. picking up to Wildwood Dr. Left on Wildwood Dr. picking up in middle of block. Left on Kay Dr. picking up at Nobil Dr. Right on Nobil Dr., right on W. Albain Rd. picking up to S. Telegraph Rd.

In my mind, I could visualize bus 81 threading through the neighborhood streets, stopping to pick up half-asleep teenagers. My son would have to get up at 6:00 and I would sip coffee as I watched the bus doors clap behind him as he headed to the back of the bus to snooze. I always feel better watching him actually get on the bus, even though he is 15.

 

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One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

"Could you take these in?"

Her blue eyes looked at me sweetly. She held two silky tank tops toward me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I got them on clearance but they are a little big and when I raise my arms you can sort of see my bra. I'll put them on if you want to see what I mean?" She slipped the peach one over her head.

"I learned how to use the sewing machine in the costume shop when I worked at the play house this summer. I could probably do it myself. I just need to sew the sides, right?" We both knew she had no intention of altering the blouses herself.

I considered the baggy armholes, pulled open my sewing desk drawer, grabbed my pin cusion, and began pinching and pinning the extra fabric on both side seams. After the peach top was marked, she lifted it carefully over her head to avoid getting poked. We repeated the process with the magenta top. I checked my drawer for coordinating thread but came up short.

"You're going to have to get me some matching thread if you want me to fix these." I looked at her hoping she would decide that shopping for thread was too much trouble. But instead she put her blouses in a plastic Kroger sack and set off for Hobby Lobby. I really didn't feel like I had time to alter two blouses that would end up in a wad on my daughter's apartment floor. But I did. She had to leave Thursday to go back to college.

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One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

The first happy vegetables from my
garden. :)

I'm growing tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers for the first time. My garden is more like a patch, very small with five tomato plants, five pepper plants (one died), and three cucumber plants. I harvested my first cuke and three banana peppers yesterday. I really don't know squat about growing things. As a kid, my dad's garden took up most of the backyard. I liked being in the backyard among the beans, tomatoes, and strawberries. Somehow my little patch stitches me to my childhood summers. Summers meant sewing projects, riding my bike to the pool, and sitting in my crab apple tree pretending to be Julie Andrews or Karen Carpenter and surveying the progress of my dad's vegetables. Summers meant getting bored too, which wasn't a bad thing at all. When I was a child, having nothing to do wasn't something that was advertised too loudly. Complaining about being bored resulted in cleaning and weeding. As an adult, I am seldom if ever bored, which must be why my house tends to be a mess and there are weeds in my garden. When I go out this morning and survey my patch, I won't be sitting in a tree or singing. I'll be drinking tea and humming threads of Wouldn't It be Loverly.

One Little Word: Thread

This is a picture of my thread drawer edited in befunky. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about thread lately. Maybe it is because I feel like I have all kinds of loose pieces of my life laid out waiting to be sewn together.  I keep thinking about my mother’s big sticky wall that she uses to arrange and rearrange her quilt blocks prior to sewing them together. If my life were a quilt pattern, I wonder what it would be. Crazy quilt, nine patch, or some kind of star or pinwheel? I’m itchy to see some kind of recognizable design.

One Little Word: Thread

Whenever I examine my thread jar, I usually think of my Grandma Marion. Most of the thread in the jar came from her sewing box. As I look at her thread, I wonder what she made with it. Did she sew a teenager's taffeta prom dress or a wool suit or new chintz curtains for her kitchen window? My grandma always had an ongoing list of projects. And she knew how to finish what she started. Not much fiddling around when there were things to get done. Sometimes when I procrastinate, I can feel her gentle nudging, a hand on my shoulder reminding me that I tend to make things more complicated than they need to be. Grandma Marion had a talent for getting rid of what she no longer needed. She must of had a purpose for the spools that ended up in my jar or she would have gotten rid of them. It wasn’t that she was highly organized or rigid. Grandma just had a way of clearing the clutter so she could get her to do list done. If she could see my desk at school right now, she would do more that give me a gentle nudge. Knowing her, she’d pull up the waste basket and start filling it. Maybe I should take my thread jar to work with me for inspiration.

One Little Word Sunday: Thread

Last week, Amanda from In Search of Balance left a comment on one of my posts that included a quote from Peter Johnston. Below is part of her comment.

 On another note, I am reading Opening Minds by Peter H. Johnston, and this section made me think of you because of your OLW, “This set of interactions might not mean much by itself, but the threads it contains, repeated over and over in different forms, moment to moment, day to day, week to week, month to month, start to amount to something. Their power is strengthened as they echo and reverberate in the children’s talk […],” (p. 4).

First of all, I loved Choice Words and I am itching to get my hands on Opening Minds. Second, Amanda reminded me that I haven’t devoted much time lately to thinking and writing about my One Little Word, which is thread. I read her comment containing Johnston’s quote over and over. I kept thinking about how cool it was that she remembered my OLW and probably knew how much I would want to gobble up her comment and think about it. These connections, these threads that stitch the SOL community together may not be of the face-to-face kind, but they are no less authentic.  

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

Wednesday. Brain empty. Thread. I guess I’m just going to have to do what I tell the kids to do and just barf what is in my head onto the paper. I’m going to trust that somehow it will connect to thread. I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole resume thing. And I’m proud to say, that I have made a tiny bit of progress. I decided to get myself going by making lists of all the things I’ve done professionally for the last 25 years. Since I know that most of what I write on the paper won’t end up in my final piece, I’m not fussing over every item on the list. The important details will emerge as I continue writing. As I write my lists, I am beginning to think about the format of the piece. This will become clearer when I figure out the audience and purpose. I’m also on the hunt for mentor texts. No matter the end result, going through this process, threading together these bits and pieces of my life might be a good thing. Maybe it will help calm the waters so I don’t feel like such bobbing cork.

Twisted Threads

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

My jar of  loose ends and
tangled threads.

It seems like each Wednesday I start the same way. I don’t know what I’m going to write about. As usual, I look over at my jar of thread that I thought was so clever in January.  I just stare at it.  I pick it up and turn it around and around. It has started to look rather untidy inside my jar. A few days ago, my teenage son came into my office, flopped on the day bed, and then took to messing with my jar. He picked it up, unscrewed the lid, and started disturbing and fiddling with the contents. By the time he left my office, my thread jar was in complete disarray. I plunked the spools back into the jar, screwed on the lid, and forgot about it. That is until today. Wednesday. As I look at my jar, I feel like the loose threads of my last several days need to be untangled, rewound, and secured. 

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

I had been hemming and hawing over today’s post. Thread. I almost started writing a post about how I didn’t know what to write about. I avoided writing my post by writing some comments on other blogs. I then returned to my Tuesday post on Web 2.0 Tools and started replying to commenters. Then it came to me. Threaded comments! Blogger recently implemented a threaded commenting system. Personally, I’m thrilled. Ever since I started my blog, I’ve considered adding Discus or a Reply button. I even considered switching to Wordpress because I liked their commenting system better than Blogger’s. But I didn’t. I actually didn’t even know that Blogger had rolled out the system until I read someone else’s blog. I assumed that bloggers using Blogger would be as pleased as I was. Not true. I was very surprised to read how many people hated the new system and wanted Blogger to switch back, or at least give them the option of disabling the system on their own blog. When I read the comments in Blogger Buzz, I could see why some people would be annoyed, even upset by these changes. For me, I’m looking forward to using the system to see if it promotes more conversations. 

Neon Spools

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

I have been spending lots of time learning what about Google Docs. Last weekend, I excitedly explained to my husband that I had figured out how to link documents to one another and was in the process of creating a reading conference form that could be used on an iPad. His eyes glazed over as his jaw hung open slightly. His indifference to my interests didn't trouble me in the least. In fact, I have found if I want him to stop bothering me, all I have to do is start a sentence with, “Guess what I figured out that I can do in Google Docs!” He immediately leaves the room. I can’t help it if I find learning how to use forms and spreadsheets more stimulating than watching him sit in the green chair as he watches re-runs of Everybody Loves Raymond. I guess we are both pretty boring. Not sure what this has to do with thread other than I’ve been trying to figure out how all of the new learning I’ve been doing will impact my teaching, impact my daily life. I’m just trying to thread it all together. And writing about it helps.

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

Today I meet with the other literacy coaches and consultants from our district. It is a day of study, reflection, and idea sharing. We also eat chocolate and vent. Coaching can be a lonely position and having the opportunity to talk freely with other coaches without fear that what we say to each other will be repeated is critical to our survival both professionally and personally. In the past, the bond that we formed was supported, if not encouraged. This was never a group of people that competed with each other or controlled each other. Our conversations have ranged from big global thinking to sharing little teaching tips. The assumption has been that we all have important pieces to offer, different perspectives. And we question ourselves. We know that we can't ignore evidence and there is always  more to learn. We use what we observe about our district, our schools, our teachers, and our children to guide our study. We discuss state and national literacy trends and the politics that influence how schools are funded. We read. We write. We use our own literacy processing to improve instructional models and create lessons. The threads of our thinking wind and weave. These days of coming together have been a gift. 

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

          Kids really say the most amazing things. Yesterday in a third grade class, I introduced the students to writing snapshots. I used Barry Lane's ideas about how details are like boxes inside boxes and writers zoom in with their words like photographers zoom in with their cameras. I read aloud samples from wonderful authors and shared some of my own writing. Using a slide show of images on the smart board as inspiration, the kids made their first attempts at writing their own snapshots. It wasn't easy for them. I didn't expect it be. I told them that they had to try to push through their struggle, like lifting a heavy weight or running a long distance. They had to try. All the students shared one sentence from their snapshot. I heard similes, great hooks, and complex sentences. Then they shared their whole snapshot with someone near them. After the lesson, two excited boys came up to me before heading out to lunch recess. The first one said, "I know what I could do! I could go back to my book I'm making and add a snapshot and put a simile in it." I was stunned. This young writer was beginning to weave together all the threads of the lessons we had done together throughout the trimester. The other little boy plum blew me away. He said, "Writing is fun. I used to like gym but now I like writing better." He actually thought that writing was more fun than gym. I couldn't agree more.

One Little Word Wednesday: Thread

This is actually a photo of my thread drawer
after editing it in Picnik. 

I was supposed to get myself to bed early on Tuesday evening. Didn’t happen. The phone bill arrived in the mail. My son was significantly over on his minutes which necessitated a discussion. My daughter was considering studying abroad next year. More discussion. The Iowa Caucuses were yesterday evening. Lots more discussion between me and my husband. I had planned to spend a quiet evening reading blogs, writing comments, and composing a post for today that had something to do with thread, which is my one little word.  My brain was fried from all the talk. As I wrote, I began to think about the nature of oral discussion and how different it is from texts, tweets, emails, or writing comments on a blog. 

Comments on blogs, even when threaded (ahhhh, there is the link to thread) feel very different than verbal conversations. Talking with living breathing people can be tiring. Then again, maybe it was the topics and who I was talking with that drained my desire to write or do anything else on Tuesday. While trying to compose this post I was interrupted by both of my teenagers several times. I guess I should have been glad they wanted to talk to me at all. Then my husband decided I should watch him watch the TV then pouted when I didn't drop everything for this obviously thrilling activity. By the end of the evening my energy was thread thin.

Thinking About Thread

After reading Stacey’s post about one little word, I thought about what my word could be. I considered the linked list of words in her post and pondered a bit. I knew I was supposed to pick a word to live by for the year but I struggled with that. That felt so big to me.  I’m not sure if it because I had to move my office to the sewing room but as I was writing and thinking, the word thread came to mind. I love thread and if you enjoy creating with fabric, you know what I mean. Other than that, I had no idea why I picked that word.  I suppose I could have chosen the word connected but thread felt better, more real and I liked that thread was something I could hold in my hand if I wanted to. And so I dug through my thread drawer and my grandma's sewing box and picked some spools to put in a jar to remind me of my word.