Job Security

We are reading The Hunger Games in my 8^th grade classes this year. I love to teach this book because kids are genuinely interested in it and cannot put it down. The action-adventure theme hooks even the most reluctant readers, and most kids don’t realize how much they are learning while we’re reading it. Before they know it, we are discussing really adult themes like Government Control and Social Classification and the moral value of Reality Television.

I have many Language Arts components that I am required to teach, but this quarter we are spending a great deal of time concentrating on providing textual evidence to support a theme. I have modeled several times the skill of responding to a question and then locating a passage in the story to support their answer. This is pretty much English 101; every class they take from now until the end of time will ask them to find text support. But these kids are brand-new to the idea, and it has been a struggle to get them to do it.

In case you are not familiar with the story, I will tell you that two particular characters (Peeta and Katniss) find themselves having to work together in the story. It is pretty clear from very early in the story that Peeta has strong feelings for Katniss. The question on my daily quiz today read like this: “How does Peeta feel about Katniss? Provide a page number and a quote from the book to support your answer.”

This one was kind of an easy one, I thought. I wasn’t trying to trick them on this first test; I actually want them to experience success so they feel confident moving forward into more difficult processes. There are easily 20 or 30 sentences in this section of the book that give insight into Peeta’s feelings. In fact, one line actually reads: “Peeta sighs. ‘Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember.’”

So there I am, correcting tests, and feeling increasing alarm over the answers that have been given. Some of them answer only in their own words. Some of them include a page number but not a quote. Some of them are even blank! (Blank? Really?)

But this one…this one’s my favorite. Here’s the unedited answer on the test paper:

“Peeta wants Katniss to die. Because in the chairiot (sp) when they are wearing flames on their costume he says they ‘suit her.’ So that means he wants to set her on fire. Page 72.”

After I finished laughing and wiping my eyes, I gave this student half credit. They were able to locate a page number…(yay!)….they were able to articulate a personal answer…(yay!)…and while there is no direct quote from the story, there is at least a reference to actual text.

The follow-up lesson is going to have to address the fact that while the concept of citing textual evidence is indeed emerging, we must take care not to miss gigantic chunks of comprehension in the process.

Good grief.

It’s nice to feel necessary.

2012 Recap

My primary purpose in writing this blog is to provide a record of my thoughts for my children to read someday. I found a great website that actually prints your blog, pictures and all, into a hardcover book. I plan to have that done periodically. I’m not much of a journal writer, and too often anymore, I will forget the details and nuances of a family story. I thought this might be a nice way for my kids to remember some of our moments (good and bad) and to hear them told through their mother’s voice, for someday when I’m not here to tell it in person.

With this in mind, I’m going to shoot for a 2012 Recap that will provide the best picture overall of who we are, and what we were all about this year. This might have been one of my favorite Decembers we’ve ever had. The kids are really in that “sweet spot” as far as their ages are concerned. They are old enough to understand what’s going on, and young enough to believe in things they cannot explain.

One of my favorite moments came from Carys this Christmas. She told me that her daycare provider has the most beautiful nativity scene she has ever seen, and could we please get one so that she could hold the baby Jesus in her hand sometimes. (That was a precious moment to me; I’ll be on the lookout for a nativity scene for just this purpose.) Always a lover of a good metaphor, I took that opportunity to talk about how we can hold Jesus every day in our heart. However, I know exactly what she was getting at, so I went on to say that I still understood how much she might want to hold Him in her hand. (Especially when His figurine is so cute and tiny and carved and painted perfectly!) I hope I can find just the right one for next year.

We also took the kids to see Life of Pi in the theater. I loved the movie, as much for the allegory and its literary elements as for its amazing cinematography. The challenge posed at the beginning of the movie is to tell a story that proves that God exists. I got pretty swept up in the imagery all the while analyzing and evaluating the plot twists and turns, and looking for the connective threads that resolved the question. By the end of the movie, I was moved and inspired and emotional…all the things that really good story will do to me. I am pretty sure that the metaphor of the movie went right on over the heads of my little munchkins, but I tried to explain it to them anyway. Exposure to good works at any age is a good thing, says Mom, the English teacher.

Two years ago, we got an “Elf on the Shelf.” We named our elf “Sam” and he has been the most wonderful addition to our winter routine. The kids come flying downstairs every morning trying to be the first one to find his new location. Occasionally, Sam will bring a small treat or leave a message for the kids and they are beside themselves with excitement. Some of my favorites from this year included Sam dressing up in Emma’s Barbie clothes, riding one of Cooper’s tractors, and hiding inside Carys’ Christmas stocking. The best day, however, was Sam’s last day at our house. He always spends Christmas Eve with us, and on Christmas morning he has gone back to the North Pole to rest and get ready for next year. This time, he brought the kids one early Christmas present, and left a goodbye note. Throughout the day, the kids each wrote notes back to Sam and left them at his feet so he could read them at night when his “magic turned back on.”

Besides being adorable and sweet by nature, (“Bye, Sam, we love you and will miss you!”) reading those notes reminded me of how rarely we as adults allow ourselves to believe in magic anymore. Age and experience makes us hard and cynical; I find myself looking at life with such a critical eye sometimes. I don’t know how much longer they will believe in magic, but I will celebrate it for as long as I can. Life can get really REAL…no need to go there any sooner than we have to.

In 2012, Emma slipped gently over the edge of childhood and is tentatively testing some new boundaries as a “pre-teen.” I had hoped her innocence would last a little longer but I admit it is a little thrilling to chronicle this journey from the perspective of an adult who has “been there and done that.” She has stopped asking me for every little thing and has begun initiating all sorts of things that were previously off-limits.

As a small example, one night I was working in the kitchen and she casually opened the fridge, took out a soda and walked over and sat down next to me, preparing to open it. I noticed her watching me very carefully, and she seemed very reluctant to pop the top. I looked up at her, down at the soda, and back up at her. She didn’t say anything. The look in her eyes was almost daring me to challenge her. We don’t allow soda for the kids except on special occasions, so I was very surprised. When I reminded her of our rule, she sighed dramatically and returned it to the fridge. She poured herself a glass of milk and kind of stomped out of the room.

I had to think about that for a little while. She pushed the edges a little, but didn’t argue when I held the line. I guess I should be thankful for that; I suspect it will only get more dramatic from here. Emma is one of those people who feels things passionately, but tries to hold her emotion in check in front of other people. When it finally spills over, it REALLY spills over.

The next morning I could hear her yelling at her sister upstairs. I couldn’t understand all of the words through the ceiling, but she was definitely YELLING. When I was able to calm her down and get her alone to talk, I said, “Emma, it is not like you at all to scream at people when you are upset. What is wrong?”

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and she wailed, “I don’t know! I think I have anger issues!” I laughed out loud and hugged her hard and told her that feeling irrational was a completely normal feeling. I told her that I hope to teach her better ways to manage it than just blowing a gasket. (However, if you had been there when I found a bottle of pink nail polish soaking into the carpet you would see that’s a skill I’m still learning too.)

At 8 years old, Emma is a reader, an artist, a crafter, and the best mom-helper around. She takes care of everyone smaller than her, and delights in small pleasures. She has wonderful attention to detail, and asks me really introspective questions. She keeps me on my toes, and it is such a delight to watch each new milestone unfold.

Carys, my little peanut, provides the soundtrack to our lives. She is drawn to music in the most remarkable way; she is constantly humming or dancing or singing some little tune. She sings in the car, in the bathtub, while coloring, watching TV, and more nights than not I will find her sleeping in bed with her Hello Kitty sparkly headphones on.

Carys will never be a good poker player; she wears every emotion all over her face. You never have to guess at what she’s thinking. She laughs easily and hard, she wails with utter despair, and she has the most empathy of any 6 year old I’ve ever met. She especially loves animals, with horses being a notable love. We were at her cousin’s birthday party in early December, and her cousin opened a present with an American Girl brand horse in the box. Carys’ gasp was audible from two rooms away; she clapped her hands over her mouth and whispered, “oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh” over and over.

We honestly aren’t into American Girl all that much at our house; my daughters each have a doll, but that’s about it. And I certainly wasn’t thrilled about spending $80 on a plastic horse, but if you had seen the look on her face, you would know why I went home and ordered one. And it was completely worth it on Christmas morning.

My little man Cooper is all boy. I marvel at how he can be surrounded by feminine influence in the form of a doting mamma and two sisters who want him to play dress up and still turn into a rough and tumble superhero flying, race car driving, dinosaur loving little man.

He has a competitive spirit that I’m not trying to squash, necessarily, but I am trying to channel into something constructive. He hates to lose anything, especially a board game or a video game. He gets frustrated when he can’t do something, and will practice over and over to get it right. I’m not sure where that comes from, since I’m generally content when things just sort of go my way. But his father is a little more of a perfectionist, so maybe that’s where he gets it.

He is extremely observant, and always surprises me with his strong vocabulary and his desire to have things just “so.” One of my favorite Cooper Moments of the year came at Christmas.

First, a little back story: I teach and coach at Fairmont High School, home of the Cardinals who wear Red and White. It just happens to be the rival of my hometown Blue Earth Bucs, who wear Maroon and Gold. All of our family still attends Blue Earth so Cooper has naturally picked up on the fact that his cousins are Bucs and we are Cardinals. While I make no outward mentions of the rivalry, somewhere along the line he has come to understand that we are adversaries when it comes to sports.

At Gudahl Family Christmas, Cooper’s Grandma Gail bought all of her grandsons the same outfit. Cooper opened his gift and pulled out a beautiful Minnesota Gopher sweatshirt and pants (maroon and gold, by the way.) He sat there, staring down at the outfit with a scowl on his face. At first I thought maybe he was disappointed to open clothes and was hoping for toys. But before long he picked that sweatshirt up by his thumb and forefinger and declared, “I don’t even GO to this school! I’m a CARDINAL!”

The whole room erupted in laughter and it took me a good 10 minutes to explain that it was okay to wear maroon and gold if it was a Gopher sweatshirt. I still chuckle every time I think of it.

I love that he can be wrestling on the floor with his dad one minute, and climbing up in my lap the next. He can be charming and exasperating and serious and silly, and a more expressive set of brown eyes never existed anywhere else.

Aaron and I continue our journey toward sustainability on our farm. He’s adding to our menagerie outside, and I’m expanding my prowess in the kitchen when it comes to canning and preserving. In 2012 we are happy and we are healthy. What more could a girl ask for?