High School SAT scores

Oh spring. It comes with so much promise and then becomes such a time over multitasking that it's very hard to stay on track with any projects started before Pesach.

Well, today on this Memorial day weekend I returned to my Marie Kondo work for the first really good chunk of time in a while. I'm up to the stage of getting rid of papers, and our office floor has been covered for months now with all of my files, letters, papers etc. from old school work, to bills, to drafts of my writing, letters and more.

This is just a sampling.
There is more, so much more!

It's been very slow going. While I've put in a few minutes here and there I feel like I have an emotionally easy enough time sorting through old medical things or bills, but when it comes to the more personal things I'm not sure what to do. Today I opened a bag of old letters from all different people in my life. All of them -- all of them -- felt painful in some way. I suppose at least in part it's because these letters are from my college years when I was scared about the future, unsure of where I was going, that these are hard to look at. I read a few, then couldn't take it anymore, but decided at least for now to to keep them. These are part of my history and I haven't decided yet whether I need to let this history go, or if I need the story available to be retold. Just don't know.

Then I found a file of my old SAT scores, report cards etc. I went to show some of it to U. Maybe it's partly because I was sharing it that I had the reaction that I did. I flipped through page after page of reports from teachers I had, both those I liked and those I didn't like, and classes that I was good at and classes that were hard. Sure, the ones I liked best had the drop down comment, "talented", but there were comments too about incomplete work, not following directions, poor test scores even on a take-home test and finally I just started to cry. Reading these little slips I started to feel the crushing pressure of all these adults judging me according to what they wanted from me and they were things that didn't show who I was. The only reports that felt safe were from band class and writing class. But physics, math, even Spanish and AP English, I wasn't what they wanted to be.

Since becoming a teacher I have always reflected back on myself as having been a pretty good student. I wasn't labeled with a disability. I didn't misbehave (much). Yes, I was stubborn, but usually the teachers I think of fondly thought past that. So it's taken an act of imagination to see what it might be like for children that really really struggle in school.

Now, though, I see that I was being judged and that so many people saw me not living to my potential or, maybe more accurately, not living up to theirs. In this report card writing season I'm now seeing my own relationships with students in a new light. The judgement we put on them is very very powerful.

The good news for myself is that as I've gone through my files I've found some good things too. I love my letters of recommendation, cards from people I know love me and results of some of my most recent work in adulthood. What a relief to be an adult now and too feel OK with whom I am and what I do. What a relief to not having to be figuring out who I am from scratch anymore.

So the professional question to leave this with... how can we as teachers and parents make our children and students feel appreciated the way I do from those good letters and not crushed with the judgement I felt in my report cards. 

Yeshivat Noam Dinner 2016!

Rabbi Hagler on far left, President Nachman Paul on far right.
Yehudit and I are teacher nominees.
Schachter and Herman families for Guest of Honor and Community Service awards.

Nearly a month ago now, on March 16th, was the Yeshivat Noam dinner in which I was honored. I'm still reeling from the experience. I don't know what to say about it other than that this has been an utterly awe-inspiring decade for me personally. U. and I came to Noam 11 years ago with a cat, a moving truck and I with a little teaching experience. Now we've established this life here with our family. I'm so proud to have become teacher enough to have received this honor. This blog post won't say very  much, but will be my repository for pictures and videos from the dinner. 

Naomi has appearances at 9:17 and 11:04 of the second video.

Autumn Mindfulness

I wrote in Summer Mindfulness about a class I took this summer on mindfulness for educators. I also wrote about my struggles incorporating mindfulness into the classroom. Here's an update as the year progresses.

As someone with my own life-saving, pain-easing, anxiety-reducing, compassion-and-calm-producing yoga and meditation practice, I have always wanted to bring my practice to others, especially children, but often get waylaid. When I taught in a large elementary school classroom I used to try a little yoga or breathing with my students now and then, but when the schedule was frantic and I didn't see others reinforcing this work, I usually gave up pretty quickly. My best, most committed year, was the one in which I created Moment That Matters. It was a moment set aside in the day that could be used for any number of things. Sometimes I taught a yoga pose or led a short self-talk moment -- "I can do this!" -- or even just a class phone call home to a child who was sick. That year I had an assistant who loved I was doing this. That was a great reinforcement, even still I eventually started glossing through the time quickly or skipped the Moment altogether.

This year, partly inspired by the mindfulness class and partly by new circumstances, I'm determined to try yet again. As I have for the past three years, I am teaching in a resource room setting rather than a large classroom. My office/classroom used to be joined with someone else's. It was a very comfortable room and I loved the time I spent collaborating with the teacher who shared the room. However, there was a lot of movement in and out of the room either by her students or other teachers coming to get books that were stored there. So I suppose I must have lost confidence in the importance of that little bit of peace I was trying to bring into my students' academic day.

This year my office/classroom was moved. My old space was needed for first grade and my new one is actually joined to one of the Second Grade classes I serve. However,  it's a space I never initially would have chosen. Some years ago it was the back of the gym. Later a wall was built to incorporate it as a storage area into a classroom. Now the storage has been removed from the area and it is my office. There is no window or regular air circulation, so I've brought into the space everything I can to make it comfortable. (Mind you, interior decorating has never been a strength of mine.)

As you enter, you pass through a magical curtain instead of a door. It feels as though you are entering a sacred or secret space. My principal choose a calming blue paint that now covers two of the four walls. I have an air purifier which both clears the air and provides white noise to block out the sound from the adjoining classroom. Finally I have put to use an aromatherapy diffuser that I've had for years but never really did much good in larger spaces. I have a collection of oils that my students help me choose from for the room. Every now and then students in the adjoining classroom say, "I'm getting hungry for cookies. Where is that peppermint smell coming from?!"

For each of my daily 6 classes, the first thing I list on the board's agenda is "chime." The children are reminded by a poster I have on the wall, "When you hear the chime, show you are ready by sitting tall and breathing slow, quiet and relaxing breaths." Even the students who giggle over his follow the directions and will remind me if somehow I skip that step.

Partly inspired by a meeting I had with a psychologist of one of my more anxious students, I also add in some self-talk. So I might say, "Today while I ring the chime, think to yourself, 'I've got this!'" Other phrases I might use are, "My brain is so good at learning," and for one of my more distracted groups, "I am ready to learn something new."

Last week we had a lockdown drill. The 20 kids who use the room that adjoins mine came into the space with me and my two more anxious students. Since we knew to expect this drill, we worked together first to move the tables and chairs out of the way. (This gave ownership of the room and the situation to those students.) Then when the class came in I asked the class teachers if I might use the time to read quietly to the students. Right away out came Mindful Monkey, Happy Panda. The children were silent and absorbed it all.

Even when the drill was over they were happy to sit to the end of the book and followed my lead when I closed my eyes at the end and said, "Right now I'm kneeling on this hard floor, I'm sweating because it's so crowded in here and it's pretty uncomfortable, but I'm also breathing gently and telling myself that in this moment, I'm really OK."

I got a note from the parent of one of those anxious children noted above. The child came home and quoted to the mother from the book about how to stay in the present moment. Her mother has been trying to teach her this skill and was grateful I reinforced it.

I've got this.

Routines

There are a lot of landmarks looming for me right now. Next June I turn 40. I'm just about to start teaching for my 11th year at the same school which means I've lived here for 10 years, taught here for 10 years and now gone camping for the 10th year in a row.

I remember how I felt at the end of my annual camping trip after the very first year. Pure terror filled me as I'd had a rough beginning at the new job and have always tended to be anxious. I felt nauseous and doomed. Teaching has always been anxiety-producing. At other times in my career it has manifested as keeping candles oriented in a particular way during yoga to help me see how close to Shabbat I was. At other times I remember being afraid to get out of bed until I could just remember the face of a child from my class instead of feeling I was drowning in the sea of things I needed to do and could not seem to do well enough.

It has been a habit for me to cling desperately to things that make me feel safe... visits home to Portland, hoarding of special items I'd buy there, weekends, precious moments in nature.

I've been through the cycle so many times now, it's no longer a big deal. When I went on my souvenir hunts this summer, I still loaded up, but not as much, and wondered what things at home I could get rid of at the same time.

How is this possible?

For one, I've become a better teacher.

For another, I have an easier position now than I used to.

Refuge seems to always be accessible now even if it takes a deliberate breath or step away from a difficult situation, but I've so many times gone through days that just weren't as bad as I thought, that I feel fine more often now.

As I began to reflect on this I wondered if age has brought a dulling of my feelings. I'm feeling less anxious. Does that mean less happy too? Now... it just means feeling a little lighter. Happiness is less desperate, but it's certainly there.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't mind if I were still camping right now. However, when I show up on Tuesday next week, it will feel familiar and I don't have to think a lot about it right now.

Summer Mindfulness

Summer is a complicated time for me. I'm fully aware of how fortunate I am to be part of the working population who has the summer "off" and as a result has a very different life during that time.

My summers are not, however, smooth sailing. My workaholism, ambition and strong belief in the importance of professional development prevent me from just vacationing. I've been putting in hours studying for my special education endorsement program as well as accomplishing things that I'm unable to do during the school year.

The onset of every summer is emotionally jarring for me. There's an enormous leap from putting in long and stressful hours, investing my work into children, worrying that my work over the year wasn't enough, waving them off and then having only my own child left to care for. To put in so much energy for other beings and then just have them disappear after maybe giving me a goodbye and thank you card is uncomfortable. It shakes up my sense of self-worth and industry. Then I face unstructured days and lists upon lists of expectations for myself, goals, to do lists.

Read more »

Welcome, 2015!

So it's the secular New Year, a time when lots of people make resolutions. I don't have any new resolutions to share right now. Rather, I find myself checking in with my intentions as of Rosh Hashanah/2014-2015 school year.

This year has been designated as a scaling-back year. The biggest part of that was taking a hiatus from my writing group and, hence, my novel as well. I've done very little volunteering and am taking stock of some questions about my work.

Instead, what I find is I'm settling into inhabiting my life. This has become a major phrase for me. It means
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IPads In The Classroom

Another article of mine up as of yesterday -- Using and Not Using iPads To Teach Reading.

Hurricane Sandy Final installment

In Hurricane Sandy Part 14 I mentioned an article I was writing. Here it is.

Making a Difference

Tonight I had some friends over to celebrate my 9 year remission anniversary. (That's one-fourth of my life that I've been a survivor.) Somehow I'm connecting it very strongly to the loss of my mentor, Michael this year and I spoke about him to my friends.

Throughout the night we talked about many things and it kept coming up again and again, the idea of people who had made a difference in our lives, often by a single interaction among many. I keep feeling like the work I want to do in healing the world will not happen through teaching. But maybe I've been wrong. Two of the friends there tonight are my friends because I taught their daughters and made a difference to them directly. I've sometimes been thinking I want to get out of the school environment because it is so intense, rushed and stressful in many ways, but maybe I'm needed there to help kids navigate it. Also, I care more about emotional landscape and survival than I do about teaching reading and writing. But maybe that's the very reason I need to continue.

I've just been published at the PLP network where I wrote about my childhood and compared it to contemporary suburban NJ childhoods. Maybe taking the question and knowledge I have of my ideal world, and taking it with me when I enter the world in front of me, can provide some small amount of respite or change or possibility to the children who enter the room to work with me each day. And maybe writing about this reflection can make a difference to others further away.

Maybe I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing and don't need to worry about it so much.

Seminar

Geez I'm far behind on here. I didn't tell about ND's birthday, but part of that is I'm trying to give her more and more privacy. I haven't told about... well, anything for a bit.

My parents are in town now for Channukah. Mom and I went today to see Alan Rickman (and the other actors too of course) in Seminar. Later I may post my photos from outside, though we didn't get to see him afterwards or get his autograph. (Nope, just Jerry O'Connell's. I hope you're able to detect that I think that's cool too.) We had front row seats which was often given that we came primarily to ogle over one of my mom's very favorite actors and yes, he was very much within reach a few times.

The play, though, was about young writers trying to break into the world of writing. There was very much the tone of wanting desperately to be found, be good enough, to be big enough to be noticed, and not to lose that fame. It made me sad. This is definitely one way to view a writing career, but what a depressing one. How hard to be constantly at the mercy of the public or critics. My career, if you can call it that, is so much smaller, but like the other writers in my group, it's realistic. We all enjoy our craft, have some talent, and can always benefit from feedback that can help our work. We face a lot of rejection, but most of us have income that allows that rejection to be only emotionally trying rather than financially devastating.

That's all I can say on that tonight. I enjoyed the play. Like "Life In The Theater" that I saw last year, it juxtaposed young and old characters within the arts. Moving and funny and sad all together. And awesome to be around some famous faces.

Inspiration and Agony

A friend of mine recently got a job with Teva and has been ecstatic since. On Yom Kippur he told me about a transformative experience he had davening Shacharit with a leader in the woods. He wrote a lovely blog post about it.

I listened as he told me about this and found myself exclaiming internally, "Oh oh oh! You've never davened shacharit in the woods before? Oh, how sad!!!! Oh, you know now about the light inside us all that comes from G-d... you hadn't had that before either?" I am so happy for him to have discovered this and feel a simultaneous plummeting inside me as I'm realizing just how few have ever even touched this. It feels as natural as water to me. I grew up in Corvallis, OR with nature and incense and touchy-feely Jews who loved Judaism for its connection to life itself and not just to text or walled-up inside shuls. To me this is what it is.

Over the years my day-to-day view of Judaism has changed, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse, but that connection between nature and the soul and Torah are already inside me. It makes me so sad when it's obscured by materialism or simply by the devoted black hat suited culture that is passionate about G-d but disconnected from land and sometimes from their children because they don't always know how to connect their spirits together. What torture to imagine that it's not for so many people who want that connection so badly, sometimes without even knowing it.

Before this friend told me this story, we were sharing how grateful we both are to have jobs in where we know we daily engage in passions of our life that make a difference in the world. But there's a piece of me that still feels something is missing, a potential connection isn't meeting. Is this just the norm that comes of not being able to do all I want all at once -- change the lives of children while still writing and meditating and being present in my own free time and being a fun mother too. Or is it a gap I need to heal? I don't get to teach spirituality. I teach reading, writing, math and how to be a citizen from a child's perspective. The passion of teaching comes through connecting with children and families, particularly when there are barriers to overcome just as social or behavioral differences.

That's just it... I love connection. I'm connecting with them, sometimes helping them connect to each other, but are we connecting to G-d? Am I connecting all the parts of me, are we connecting all to each other, to nature, to our inner spirits? Or must the writer and meditator parts of me be reserved for different times.

In short, am I doing everything to the best of my abilities exactly as I should be? Or someday should I do it a little differently... the writer, meditating environmentalist teacher of behaviorally challenged children...

who loves to just sit and be alone sometimes in the woods.

And who already does that sometimes, returning to see the perfection in the present exactly as it is right now.

A teaching relevant post for this... 2 days after the kids went home

Great article about what makes a good teacher.

I would add that while a clean classroom is great, the part about being organized does not necessitate having everything perfectly tidy. With all due respect, I sometimes see perfect cleanliness traded off for some of those other good things he mentions.

In The News

What an odd morning... waking up after a groggy to discover that Osama Bin Laden is dead.

Came to school and my 2nd graders were very excited, all talking in groups in the room. I kept hearing snippets. "Dead" "killed" etc. Especially kept hearing the voice of one student who is quiet on everything but politics and math.

So of course we had a meeting. I asked what they'd heard in the news. I said I wanted to help them understand things they'd heard, find out what was true, what wasn't true, what we didn't know etc. That child I just mentioned stated clearly,

"They got the guy who planned the attack on the two towers."

"Great," I said. "What else do you know?" and called on someone else.

"The Yankees beat the..." (I don't even remember who he said.)

"It was my birthday."

"I saw this cool motorcycle race on TV."

In short, they had no clue. These are 2nd graders. None of them were even born before 2011. And ant hills are bigger than mountains to them.

Love it.

Goals Gradually Coming To Fruition

A wonderful thing happened about a week ago. One night when I was too tired to get off the couch, instead of browsing Facebook, I went to LinkedIn and clicked around in a Writer's Cafe I once found there.

I asked a question about how I could find an online writing group, and, a few days later, was invited into one. I couldn't decide at first whether I could do it. It takes a commitment of two submissions and 4 critiques per MONTH. I was sure it was irresponsible for me to take on this extra work as I simplify my life.

But I couldn't say no. I applied, they accepted me, and I've spent this whole week spending stolen minutes reading posts and previous submissions.

This morning I got up before 5 and spent my first hour actually working on it... sent in two critiques and a poem I began in November.

It's 6 now. I have time for 10 minutes of yoga before I move on to the rest of my morning agenda.

Life Wish Installment Number 2: Meditating

When I think back on my life, meditation has popped up as a resource since I was a very young child. It became most prominent when I had cancer because I had time then to focus on it and lived just a block away from the very dear friend who was teaching me.

When we moved to Vancouver, I kept it going a little with a woman I met there, but it wasn't the same.

Then I moved to Englewood. The shock of that move and of the unbelievable stressful year I then experienced as my first at my current job drove meditation far away. Becoming a mother also affected the way in which I used to "connect" before.

So now it's been over 6 years since I've had a teacher or guide I could trust, but I'm craving it like crazy. In the interim I tried teaching meditation to kids twice along the way (and have incorporated some techniques into my classroom). I have done my own thing, but I want to go deeper. One of the people with whom I ride shared to the Hazon Conference teaches meditation in New York. She gave me some resources and I am particularly eager one of these years to go on a meditation retreat at the Isabella Freedman Center. I don't think I can do it this year, but maybe next. It's right in the middle of the second half of the school year.

I do do some things on my own... I feel self-conscious about listing them just now. And I use little techniques throughout the day almost more for sanity and stability than depth.

What I ultimately crave is feeling aware and connected.

Could I write a lot about this? I feel like there is a book in me with experiences on this path.

Life Wish Installment Number 1: Writing

Let's begin with this... one of the things I was not able to touch on much in my piece about the Hazon Conference was how many amazing personal encounters and experiences I had. It was just a weekend! Yet in that time I met people who so invigorated in me a love to incorporate my other loves into my life more.

For example, I shared a room with a writer. I spent much of the weekend hounding her, and then trying not to hound her, with questions about her career. Sometimes I'm just so interested in what a person with a different career's day is like! I asked about how she decides what to write, markets herself, spends her day, etc.

I don't think I could live a full-time writer's life.

-I don't sit still well.

-As shy as I often feel about mingling and casual situations, I do not like being alone for too long. I really thrive from the interactions I have with people in the passionate setting of a school where so many wonderful and caring people are. Put us in a party and my anxiety level goes up a bit, but talk to me about teaching or children or health or anything else about which I tend to be a bit intense, and I'm gloriously comfortable.

-I don't like dealing with money. I prefer just receiving a paycheck and moving on. Negotiating with people freaks me out. Just last night I had to work out something with a woman who is caring for my cat while I'm away on a trip next week. We each suggested different amounts on what I'll pay her. We settled very quickly (me conceding without any discussion) and I worried about it for nearly an hour. I also don't want to have to scramble for jobs.

-I don't write terribly well on demand... at least not when it's about subject matter outside of what I know really well. Everything I write, I write through my own self-reflective lens. I couldn't just tell you about the conference, I had to tell you about my experience at the conference. I'm just too absorbed in my own world to do it any differently. I hope that can make my writing more engaging in the long run, but it does mean I'm sometimes limited. Is that a problem? Not if this isn't my only career, I suppose.

Now, on the other hand, I really do love writing when it comes into my life. And I love doing it well. The piece I wrote on the conference is not perfect, but it felt as though it was commissioned. I had a very specific audience in mind, I had a deadline, and after I gave the drash I had some really positive feedback... more than for any other drash I've given. This makes me wonder if I don't have some potential to be doing this sort of thing in writing a little more often.

In fact, the time from the Food Conference at the beginning of Dec. up until about a week ago was extremely stressful. In addition to my regular work of life and teaching, I had to write and edit anecdotal report cards for my 41 students. (2 classes) These report cards print out to about 3 pages of content, averaging a page of paragraph writing about the kids. Meanwhile, we had a snow storm. Between shoveling and typing at breakneck speeds to get through all that writing, I injured my hand. It was in a lot of pain for about a week and I was really scared it wouldn't get better. Must have just been tendinitis, because it did. But I have to tell you, I kind of liked having a writing-induced injury!

What writing have I been able to accomplish this school year? Well, I was so motivated after my trip this summer to Chautauqua (thank you Saba, Savta and David Baker!!!) that I wanted to focus on poetry more. For awhile I was writing a journal entry night with line breaks. Most of them are just helpful journal entries to help me record snippets of life -- especially with ND. But a few have turned into some poems with real potential. I just haven't had or taken time yet to revise any but one of them. I also don't do it every night now, but I guess I average about 2 per week.

I've been trying to participate in poetry readings too. So far I've only had them at Barnes and Noble, the "Cafe" at the Hazon Conference and the Teaneck General Store. There was an open mic night the night after the drash I gave, but after all that anecdotal and drash writing and finally delivering the drash, I finally had a cold and needed to crash. Besides, I hadn't had time to revise the latest two poems that I really wanted to read. It's probably time to consider moving the stakes up and finding open mics in places with more established writers. I do live close to New York after all!!!

And last but not least, I finally actually purchased a Writer's Market. I hope to spend some time today highlighting.

So here are the big questions:

1. What is my ultimate goal?

Is it to write? I can do that right now. If I have time, that is.

Is it to be read? I can do that some when I'm on this blog at least, but not much. I need to find ways to have others be interested in my writing. Speaking of which, if you're reading this, can you leave me a comment please? I have a counter on the blog but have no idea who or how many readers I actually have.

Is it to make money? I wouldn't mind. I don't necessarily need the cash (though it never hurts), but I would like having strangers value my work enough to pay for it.

Is it to have strangers read my work? Sure. Why not?

Is it to be famous? Again, wouldn't hurt. Don't know if I need it.

Is it to make a difference? That'd be cool, but I'm doing that through teaching already. This is more about me and what I want for me.

Is it so I can define myself more as a writer? Yeah, I'd like that too. I spend the majority of my waking hours teaching, yet don't identify with just being labeled a teacher. I suppose I might feel the same about writing if I had more time to do it.

I think more than anything, I just have things I want to say, and that no one can say the same way as me. I would hate to leave the world without those things being said. Again, does anyone else need to read or hear them? Maybe, maybe not.

2. When do I spend time on this? When do I just live?

3. Again, who wants to read me?

Winter Vacation!

At last!

This has been a wonderful teaching year, but a year too when I've been constantly wanting more time to do things I love and even things I don't always love like cleaning my own house, cooking food a little more (OK, I do like that a lot) and more.

I've been wanting to write in here since September about a number of things: health, meditation, writing.

So here I am. Let's see what I can accomplish right now... but to keep it tidy, I'm going to do it in installments.

What if?

In the middle of yoga today I suddenly remembered very tangibly visiting a Bais Yaacov in Queens where I applied for a job before moving here. I remember seeing a group of girls outside with a teacher exploring a small group of trees and bushes and writing. I was touched to see them finding nature even in the middle of the city.

I was offered the job there, but only part time, so barely considered taking it. I also remember feeling very self-conscious that it could never quite be my community religiously. All the same, I was impressed with what they were doing in the school.

I wonder if I remembered it since I was there during this time of year, close to Memorial Day weekend. 

Eulogy

Last week was exhausting. By Friday I actually exploded in the office when I discovered a meeting had been planned without my knowledge. An extremely insightful friend of mine approached me to give me a hug at which point I totally melted down. The truth is, I don't think I gave myself enough emotional space to process my adjustment back to work after Pesach with family. Too many days this week I've caught myself remembering beautiful natural places in Oregon and B.C. and feeling incredible loss.

It doesn't help that I had two intentionally emotional evenings. Sunday night, in honor of Yom Hashoah, I heard a survivor from Sobibor. As part of the program they showed clips from the movie Escape From Sobibor, a movie I saw years ago. I went home feeling haunted and shaky almost more from memories of the movie and clips I didn't see than from what I actually saw and heard that night. Oddly enough, ND woke up right when I came home and was not just awake, but frightened too, easily spooked. I wondered if she sensed what I was feeling.

Then Monday night we had a memorial siyum at my school for  an administrative assistant at our school that died from cancer this year. The memorial was an opportunity for us to have some sort of closure and unity, but also to show her family just how much we cared about Sarah. She was so committed to her work and I was glad we could show how much we valued her, that her hard work was truly appreciated.

I spoke. I wasn't really planning to, but the opportunity presented itself. Several people read things they'd written including their memories of her. I kept mine to a theme and I'd like to record it here even it somewhat abridged. I think my words hit home based on something one of her sons said afterwards, and I'd like to record it here.

One of the things we loved about Sarah was this drawer she had in her desk filled with chocolate that was available for all. By the time I spoke, this drawer had been mentioned many times, so what I said was...

When I'm stressed I have an unfortunate habit of eating, and teaching is a stressful job. When I found out about the drawer, I kept my distance for awhile, but finally discovered Sarah really meant in when she invited us to partake. I think I took more than my share, sometimes 3 or 4 in a day. A few times I bought bags of chocolate to replace it, but it didn't seem necessary. The drawer was always full.

Then after some time the drawer was not so full. After Sarah's funeral I decided I would pay her tribute by buying as much as I could. I bought 5 enormous bags of York Mints and thought how terrific I was to have bought it.

To my surprise, it was all gone within a few days time. I had no idea how much she was putting into that drawer. It was at that point I realized just how much I had received. It was embarrassing. It made me want to become a better, more generous person.

3 Days, 2 Big Accomplishments

I was so burnt out last week I could barely wait for the weekend. I imagined it would be a nice leisure time after working so hard lately on anecdotals and various volunteer things for shul. 

It wasn't exactly, but it was highly productive. It's blustery and freezing cold outside so we barely ventured out at all for 3 days. But in that time, besides accomplishing many small tasks around the house, I (1) basically finished anecdotals. I say basically because I'm still waiting for some from my assistant which I have to read through. But I finished with my piles of stuff and reclaimed my office again. 

Then (2) we got ND potty-trained! It really wasn't a big deal. We told her it was coming and on Friday put her in underwear. So far we've been really successful. I had tried once before with disaster, but that was last summer and I guess she wasn't ready. This was easygoing and fine. We still have to see how well she does with it in school, but I feel confident about sending her tomorrow.

In addition, U. and ND went out and got 3 new fish for our aquarium. I guess I should take a picture as I haven't written about it at all. Later.

Now we're going to watch a movie...