Math Facts Fun

In an effort to ease my guilt over spending a ridiculous amount of time on Pinterest engage my children in fun and educational activities, I made a few math games. These will become new math facts centers for my classroom, but I had to run them by my favorite third grade guinea pig first. Of course the first grade mathematician and Tag-along Terry wanted to play, too.

Math Fact Jenga:

For this building game, I just wrote math facts on dot stickers and stuck them on our Jenga blocks. To keep the focus on the math facts, I let them touch any blocks to help stabilize the pile while they removed a block. Max got to take blocks off the top of the stack, but the rest of us had to take from any layer but the top. Max read his math problems (he’s learned to identify his numbers just from “helping” Reed study math facts this year). The other two boys solved Max’s equations. This game was more Calvin’s speed than a lot of the games we've played so far, because it wasn’t a race. He had time to calculate the answers and I could help him, if necessary. Almost every game ended in a tie, which is a whole lot less drama than I'm used to!

Use Your Head:

Two people drew a card and held it on their forehead without looking. The third person was the “caller,” who said the product (actually, we went with sums to be fair to Calvin, who knows his addition facts). The first person to look at the visible card and calculate what must be on their forehead won the round. I made a rule that if your first answer was incorrect, the other person got to answer before you had a chance to correct yourself. This kept certain shouty guessers from having an advantage. The winner of the round stayed in for the next round, when the loser and the caller traded places. Max held cards to his head for grins and giggles and got to be the caller when I would whisper sums in his ear.

Multiple Hop:

The first game was inspired by this. I cut an old sheet into four large squares of fabric with pinking sheers. I used crayon to divide each piece into three 1 ft x 1 ft sections (I used our kitchen floor tiles as a rough guide--nothing fancy). Then I labeled each section with a multiples of a certain number. I chose to make a mat for 6s, 7s, 8s, and 9s, since these are the math facts most of my students have the hardest time learning. 

Multiples of 6

On the back, I used hot glue to “label” which factor the mat was made for. The hot glue will provide a non-stick surface to keep the mat from sliding. 

To play, a caller will flip a flash card or call out a multiplication problem. The jumper will jump to the correct answer. Being super-competitive, the boys turned it into a race. Calvin had a cheat sheet made by Mom to level the playing field. Max just played freestyle, jumping wherever he felt like. I called out “7x9” and the boys raced to be the first to jump to 63. 

Apparently, if I decide to let the students do it competition style like we did, I'll need to cover a few simple rules:

• You may not play hopscotch all over the board.
• You may not push your opponent down to the ground if you think they are going to reach the product before you are.
• You may not throw yourself down on the mat, forming your body in the shape of a large “X” so that you cover five of the nine answer choices.
• You may not deliberately jump on top of an opponent’s feet.
• You may not shriek in a high-pitched voice, “That’s not fair! He’s trying to beat me ON PURPOSE!”
• You must not show up in your pajamas, shirtless.

Back to School

I'm actually typing this post in November, so I have the benefit of knowing the future, but when this picture was taken on the first day of school this year, our family was a mix of excitement and fear.

No, Max didn't take this picture. We figured a selfie was more reliable than a Max-ie.

Reed and Calvin were starting at a new school. I was starting the new job I'd been so hesitant to go for for so many years.  The new teacher orientation and professional development days had been great. So great, in fact, that I'd cried to Ryan on the way home one day that "I love our new life!" But the first day of school is where the rubber meets the road, man. Our boys had been to summer school, but that was with waaaay fewer kids then they'd be with today. As for me, every teacher is pumped about school when there are no kids around. Your lessons go perfectly in your head and your classroom is spotless. But introduce the munchkins into the equation and things can get interesting. And I would be working with shorter munchkins this year! Two years shorter! 

I have to admit, third grade took a month or so to get used to. I mean, the friendly sarcasm that worked so well on ten-year olds went right over the head of my eight-year-olds! But about October, I started to realize that the kids that seemed like tiny babies to me in August had made HUGE changes in behavior AND performance. Let's be honest, I had too. The learning curve is big in third grade - for the students and the new teacher. And the halls seemed to shrink, too. It's late November as I type this and I'm happy to report that all my doubts about making this change have been erased. Yes, I still miss the people I left, but I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be - and I'm lovin' it! 

As for the boys, Calvin has been flourishing this year! Reed's age and personality have made the transition a little harder for him, but he's doing well. He's made new friends and enjoys himself at school. If it ever comes up in conversation, he'll admit that he still wishes he were with his old friends, but it comes up less and less often. 

I remember my first year at my old job. A lot of the pressures were similar. Feeling a little out of place. Being scared that you weren't competent. Having to make everything from scratch. I told Ryan at one point that year that I loved the teaching part, but the minute the kids left the room I felt like I was drowning. Well, I have to say this year I feel a lot like the first-year teacher again - Only this time I have three kids and have to leave by 4:30 to get to the sitter's on time! But, Cross Country season ended a few weeks ago, and our whole family has been riding together. I grade while we talk and for the first time in months I'm feeling a little margin clear up in our lives. And I know from experience, it's just going to keep getting better!

And now, just for the viewing pleasure of the aunts and grandmas, here are the rest of the back-to-school photos we shot. I fully intended to put these up on facebook that night, but life got in the way and I lost the camera (in the console of the car) and didn't discover it until a few weeks ago. 

Bittersweet

Today, I turned in my letter of resignation from a job I have loved for almost twelve years. I've gotten misty-eyed, burst into unexpected tears, and full-on ugly cried several times in the last few weeks thinking that soon, the place I've called home won't be "my school" anymore. I'll be an outsider. I'll be leaving students I've watched grow up since kindergarten. I'll be leaving some of my closest friends. My two oldest boys will be leaving theirs.

We sort of always planned for my stay at my current school to be a temporary one. When I took a job there, I was an early childhood major, dead set on teaching kindergarten, but heading into a year of gangly fifth graders. It was one of the lower paying school districts in the area, so I figured I'd just use the opportunity to get my foot in the door of education, tough out the preteens, then find something "better" the next year. Except I fell in love. With the gangly kids, the school, and the community. It felt like a family, not a job. On my first day on the job, I found creatively-wrapped gift bags from total strangers on my new desk. Later, when I asked for advice on a particular student I heard insights into their lives that told me these kids were really known and cared for by their teachers. And in no time I felt known and cared for, too.

A few years ago, Ryan and I started discussing me looking for a different job. The district where he works made sense for our family in a lot of ways. But every time it came down to making a move, I just couldn't bring myself to go for it. A strong sense of loyalty to my home coupled with fear of the unknown pulled me back. We discussed it every year, and it never felt right. I whined that this was all I knew. I loved it. My friends were there. I felt like I made a difference here. Ryan waited patiently, telling me if I never wanted to leave that was ok. I took comfort in that, but something in the back of my head told me a move was inevitable, just not right for now.

Then something changed this year. On a long car ride with my soon-to-graduate sister, we discussed her own fears about finding a teaching job. She could only see herself at the school of her student teaching, same grade, please. It was all she knew. She loved it. She did a great job there. I told her that she would soon feel just the same about whatever classroom she entered, probably within a short period of time. God would put her where He wanted her and she could be happy anywhere. She might even like it better than what she wanted so badly. She turned my advice around on me. Hadn't I felt a nudge in a different direction for several years and used the same excuses to resist it? Couldn't this new place be just as good? In fact, I already had my foot in this community. I taught Sunday school there. Our kids played baseball there. We stalked their library every summer. I cheered on a batch of 30-some teenagers every Cross Country season.

So, I stepped out in faith, and I went to an interview in the same suit a wore 12 years ago (Let's just pretend it fit the same and I didn't have to fold under the totally unbuttoned pants and pray the zipper didn't slip), more qualified, yet somehow less sure of myself than when I was a fresh-faced idealist. I entered the halls of foreign turf, terrified. I arrived early (brownie points?) and got to witness the 3:00 rush. I got smiles and waves from Sunday school kids, summer reading program kids, T-ball moms, friends of Ryan's, Cross Country runners, and acquaintances I couldn't quite put my finger on. The turf wasn't quite so foreign. Several people chatted me up in the office, easing a little of my tension. Then, I faced a panel of six. Of course I felt intimidated, but I also felt like I got to interact with some really great people. People who wouldn't seem so scary if I got the chance to share the halls with them. And soon, I found out I would. I was thrilled! Excited! And also a little sad.

A few weeks ago, I worked the concession stand at homecoming. I wrapped hot dogs and squeezed cheese and made change alongside former students, teased them about where they learned their math skills, admired them for being so diligent or good with customers or able to figure out the popcorn machine. Then I watched them and other former students march in the homecoming guard - lined up in their uniforms, suits, and prom dresses. All those gangly fifth graders had grown up and turned into fine young men and women. I'm so proud that I was a small part of that. I left misty-eyed, fully expecting an ugly cry on the way home. But then I thought about the kids just a few miles down the road. Kids I'll meet next August. Buck-toothed third-graders who will grow up to be fine young men and women someday. I'll watch them march someday too, their uniforms a different color, but I'll still get misty-eyed thinking that I got to be a small part of their "raising."

So, to my old home; thanks for welcoming a clueless college girl and taking her under your wing.  You are where I really grew up, where I really learned to teach. I'm glad I have a few more months to call your school home, your kids, "mine." It's been a privilege and a joy.

And to my new one; I'm not sure all of the reasons God has led me to you, but I can't wait to see what He has in store for this next chapter of my life.

Snowed

I just got the call that we're off school again tomorrow. This'll make the 7th snow day, which means we've been full of family togetherness for 10 1/2 days (we dismissed early when the storm started brewing). Here's a breakdown of our time.

Mommy productivity:

- Sewed 5 stockings and made each a monogram tag

- Made a new garland for the Christmas tree
- Decorated the tree
- Wrapped all of the presents - even adding "cuties" on a few

- Kept up with the laundry (a monumental accomplishment!)
- Graded all of my papers
- Redecorated the living room and bedroom
- Made a picture frame and a lamp shade cover

- Started on two top-secret Christmas presents I'm crafting
- Tried out a new cookie recipe by myself and baked 43 billion cookies with my sister- and mother-in-law

- Sorted through our DVD collection
- Finished Christmas shopping


Mommy counter-productivity:

- Kept up with the laundry (seriously! I think they sneak drawer-fulls in the hamper when I'm not looking!)
- Broke up 7 billion fights!
- Made huge decorating and crafting messes.
- Ran the dishwasher at least once a day.
- Declared I was NOT going to try to keep the house clean.
- Still felt like I cleaned constantly!

Boys' activity:

- Made 1000 Lego inventions, complete with vivid and detailed oral descriptions for any willing (or unwilling) ears
- Helped decorate the Christmas tree, which basically involved making the entire house look like a North pole raid

- Emptied the entire contents of every toy receptacle in the house
- Whined about having too many toys to pick up
- Engaged in 7,000,000,001 fights.

- Begged for snacks and "K-O-O-K-E-E"s nonstop
- Played in the snow twice a day.

- Begged to play on the Wii or Kinect or watch a movie 58 times a day.
- Watched at least 1 movie ever morning and played on the Wii or Kinect way over their regularly-scheduled 20 minute turn (survival mode, people, survival mode)
- Acted like they were mad when I chased them down to kiss them after seeing them under the "mistletoad," then taunted me 42 more times to try to get me to do it again.

I ran into my principal at the grocery store a few nights ago and asked him if he could arrange it so that students had to go back, but teachers didn't. I'm still crossing my fingers for Tuesday...

Bonding and Poop Dodging

Picture taken AFTER hosing down

The bigguns are at a sleepover. As I type this, I'm sure they're on a sugar high, zoned out in front of Saturday morning cartoons. I'm guessing they're in heaven, and I'm not too dishonest to admit that I am too!

Max and I had some sweet bonding time yesterday before Ryan got home. He seemed so big as we walked into the house alone. He was happy and hyper - probably thrilled to have Mommy to himself. We sat side by side on the floor, dancing to iPod tunes, sticking a million stickers on paper, playing Play-doh, and analyzing the Common Core State Standards. (Both parties didn't participate in all events, but they did giggle at each other frequently throughout). We cooked sloppy joes together. Then, Ryan and I got to have an entire conversation at supper with only a few interruptions! Bed time was a breeze.

And, even though I didn't get my wish that Tiny would sleep in, Saturday morning has been sooooo peaceful. We headed out to the porch to enjoy the cool time of day (6:40 a.m. - ughhh!). I graded papers and wrote lesson plans (and so it begins...) while munchkin squirted poop with water guns. Yep. As much as I love these guys:

and I really do love having a fresh supply of these:

...we also get a healthy dose of something else from the hind ends of the chickens and ducks. I'll spare you the picture, but you can see a small sampling in our priceless back to school pics (nice, huh?) This week, especially, they've decided to hang out on our porch while we're gone. So, Max and I had to step carefully this morning. He decided to help "hose off" the deck - something he's seen Mom and Dad both do this week, though you couldn't tell they did if you were looking at the porch. 

When he tired of the clean-up doody and had a little jaunt on the trampoline (with no big brothers to knock him off balance), he asked for his matchbox cars. I'm sure the porch would've made a great obstacle course, but I didn't relish the thought of him scooting around all that nastiness, so we busted out the hose for the third time in four days (it's been that bad!) and cleaned 'er up. I turned off the hose and came back just in time to see him slurping water off of the porch. I'm really hoping he doesn't get salmonella--partly because that would be really miserable for him and partly because I'm guessing severe diarrhea might interfere with the whole potty training roll we've been on lately! 

Big Day

 Today was a big day for the Layton fam. Reed, Calvin, and Mommy started school. Reed was a little apprehensive about the year. But after one day with Mrs. Nash, he reported, "I think 2nd grade is gonna be my favorite year!" I could tell that Calvin, normally Mr. Fearless, was a little nervous too. But where Reed wanted to hash out every detail of his emotions and their probable causes, Calvin didn't really talk much. There was just something about his body language that Momma Bear could pick up on. That tugged at my heartstrings, just like it did when he reported for kindergarten screening a few short months ago. But he headed to his classroom like a trooper, and apparently was past the jittery stage by lunchtime, when I waited half my lunch period outside to give him a reassuring hug on his way to recess. He tromped right past me and didn't even hear when I called his name (or he's already really good at mom avoidance). He was running in a silly monster or villain-type mode, so I was pretty sure I had nothing to worry about!

After school, I let the boys tell all about their day. Reed could hardly stand to wait through Calvin's short report before he told me every. single. thing. that happened during his day. Calvin's report? "OK. Lunch was GREAT! We had this big circle chicken nugget...and a sandwich that it was on (chicken patty sandwich - be still my heart!) ...and three carrot sticks...and yogurt...and chocolate milk!" And that was pretty much the extent of it, other than what he had told me earlier when I caught him really quickly after school, "I didn't get in trouble at ALL!" and proceeded to tell me all about the two boys who did get in trouble. He also had to visit the nurse and talked to the principal, but all over a playground crash and burn that didn't even get a mention until he was putting a fresh band-aid on at home.

Momma had a great day, too. Other than some barely-disguised tears when I dropped my baby off ALONE at day care (and he got a little clingy), and a couple choke-ups over my fearless five-year-old, the day was minimally emotional and waaaaay more calm than my last year's class (Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Amen!)

And Max? Well, he went almost accident free in undies all day! Which may be the best news of all!

God's Math Doesn't Add Up

I write my prayers down because I have ADD. Proof: This morning, I stopped writing mid-sentence and didn’t realize it until almost lunch time when I noticed my prayer journal still sitting on the table, unfinished. I have no idea what drug me from my talk with the Lord, but if I had to guess, I’d say whatever it was had two legs and a loud mouth. 

Anyway, I looked back and saw this prayer Monday, “Please bless my efforts and multiply my time.” Here’s a run down of my week:

• 14 hours spent at school - completely ready for Open House next week and cleaned-out files. Not going back to my classroom until I have to on Monday.
• Started, worked on, or finished SEVEN crafty projects. Got farther than I ever dreamed.
• Took boys on the first round of school supply shopping and an enjoyable (!?) errand run with SIX stops! (It should go without saying that one of the munchkins was home with Daddy.) 
• Read at least six children’s book a day to the short ones.
• Hung out with friends a few nights -- in a tornadic house (yay, me!)
• Reorganized all of my Pinterest boards.
• Blogged a few posts and started several drafts for the future.
• Laughed at 80 cheesy jokes (we’re on a comedic roll around here) and oohed and ahhed at 132 Lego creations.
• Cooked supper every night.
• Took the kids to another short VBS and attended family night.
• Washed sheets (and blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals) almost every day for a certain bed-wetter whose capacity is increasing dramatically.
• Enjoyed 90% of my time and stressed 0% of it!

People, if you know my day-to-day life, you will immediately recognize that this is a miracle. Most summers, I return to school an entire week before I have to and am NEVER ready for Open House until right when they unlock the doors. Usually, I’m hiding half-finished stuff in the closet when the first parent walks in my classroom. I haven’t been this crafty since my nerdy middle school days when I strung packing peanuts and foil star stickers on dental floss and called it a necklace (I think my tastes have improved since then -- wait for future posts to judge for yourself). And normally when I’m this productive, I’m also stressed out, tired, and totally unable to enjoy my family. I’ve felt relaxed, energized, and like we’re all just doing our thing side by side with occasional intersections. It’s only halfway through Friday as I type this. We still have last-day-of-summer-celebration events planned for the afternoon. 

I can’t explain how it works, but when I let go of pressure and ask God to help me, I am able to do immeasurably more than when I try to do everything on my own strength, running around like this dude...

...only minus the head. My next challenge -- REMEMBER THIS LESSON! 


Linking up to Women Living Well. 

How Do I Love Thee?

Ryan and I have been married for almost 12 years now. In that time, we've learned several new things about each other. One unexpected surprise is that he's great with kids. I got little hints of that at 20 and 21, but I'm a teacher and "good with kids" has a whole set of expectations in my book. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't think he had potential to be a good dad, but I wasn't expecting him to make Fruit Loop necklaces or dance the hokey pokey or anything. Little did I know...

First, I learned that he really has a way with the teenagers that he teaches, coaches, and mentors as a youth leader. Then, I was blessed to find out that he's an excellent Daddy to our little guys - from baby talk to wrestling.  And when he started coaching T-ball a few years ago, I learned that he was good with other people's little kids, too. But those situations involve either teenagers (his natural gift), his own flesh and blood, or competitive sports. 

Vacation Bible School game center does not involve any of those (well, part-time flesh and blood aside). So when I begged ordered asked him to run the games for our church VBS, I knew I was asking him to do something a little out of his element. He would have crying one year olds all the way up to awkward middle schoolers. The games would be cheesy and nonathletic. And I wanted him to go by the name Sir Ryan and try to stay in the spirit of our medieval theme, maybe even wear a silly hat. He agreed, and I assured him I would plan and prep everything. I shouldn't have bothered. On the first night, I went over the games with him, including clever little things he could call stuff (Capture the Cannonballs, not flag - cheesy, teacher stuff like that). I was taking pictures while he went over the directions with the first group. He was describing "Jump the Moat" in an animated voice (the voice, alone, was shocking). Then, he threw in a new reference to alligators that I hadn't even coached him on. He was gonna be just fine. And he was. In fact, he was amazing. From the preteen "Knights" who liked a little rough housing down to the "Town Criers" who just wanted to be distracted from the fact that Mommy wasn't there, he knew just how to play with each group of kids. Each night, I was more and more in love with this man. I mean, look at this:

To a girl, who in college fantasized about a guy "in boxer shorts, holding a baby," it doesn't get much hotter than that. (Cuz all these pictures woulda been weird in boxers). 

VBS was every evening. Also that week, we went to check out a camp that Reed will go to next year. We wanted to see what it was all about, so a friend who is a dorm mom invited us up during afternoon free time. We spent our entire time there going up and down the 100 foot, downhill slip and slide. I regret that I don't have any pictures, but it was awesome! After a few runs down the slide with Max on his lap, Ryan handed him off to me. That's when the 5th and 6th grade campers started taking over my man. He was racing a different kid each run. And when we headed back to the car, we talked about being dorm mom and dad in the future. Ryan said, "Your job is basically to play with kids for a week, so it would be awesome." Sigh.

Oh, and remember when I said it doesn't get hotter?

I lied. 

(Coincidentally, I also lied when I said I don't want to "try one more time for a girl.")

P.S. Just kidding, Mom.

SCHOOOOOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER!!!!!!!!

(cue "School's Out" music - and then go ahead and play the Hallelujah chorus next)

Heck. Yes. Even though I was done at noon yesterday, I decided to stick around for another day and a half to clean out my closet. I just felt like after this year I needed a day of purging and a fresh start next year. I've taught eleven years now, and this one was, by far, the most challenging nine months of my career. I've always prided myself on having excellent classroom management skills, but this is one class I'm ashamed to admit I never really had control of. Here are the highlights (or lowlights, if you will):

- 24 students, known by all elementary staff since kindergarten as "that class" - the one that made me consider having another baby just for the maternity leave...
- 6 new students - twin boys shortly before MAP testing and one more student for good measure the second to last week of school
- the perfect storm of intelligence, pre-maturity (as in knowing too much for their age), immaturity, willingness to share/need to be heard (as in not being able to say the word "pizza" without having the class launch into 30 simultaneous diatribes about favorite flavors, least favorite flavors, how much they can eat in a sitting, and how much their uncle ate one time), creativity, highly developed senses of humor (as in no less than 10 class clowns in the bunch), too many chiefs/not enough Indians, too many boys, too many hormones, too many kids/not enough space - As one mother said recently, "The chances of all THOSE kids being the same age, in the same town, and winding up in the same class together is just...unreal."
- 2 life-threatening conditions to fret about (one newly diagnosed and both requiring detailed carb counting for all class parties and treats) and about 26 cases of ADHD (the other 2 have LZ)
- 1 first-grade son who's a teensy bit on the whiny side and had a rough year, too
- 1 two-year-old son who lived up to the classic saying about his age--with a vengeance

But it's over. I survived. And I even told my 30 little ruffians I loved them on the last day. Because really, they're neat kids. They just need to be dispersed among 30 classes to dilute the neatness.

And after a day and a half of purging and organizing, my closet is flippin' spotless and I have all kinds of great ideas for next year.

But first, time to purge and organize my house. Holy pigsty!

This is my Grammy with one of her kindergarten classes. There are 30 of them. No aide. I always knew Grammy was awesome, but wow. Rockstar.