you say systemic i say balsamic

Hello to whomever still has Spit the Pips in their blog feeder.
Thank you for your patience and loyalty :)

So, it’s been hectic, okay? I won't go into details. This is not one of those bare all blogs. Get your navel-gazing angst somewhere else, sunshine. I’ll just tell you that eight weeks is not enough to fit in all the teaching and assessing that has to be done this term. Bloody world cup soccer.

And if I get one more departmental notice wrt to the Grade 3 Systemic fucking Evaluation I'll scream.I will.

‘Nuff said.

On to the pics

As autumn sweeps the land with a rust coloured paintbrush and a delicious chill sets in, my school had its annual beach walk. Not the best weather for a two hour walk on the beach…..heads were kept low and mouths firmly shut but sand still found its way into every orifice. Needless to say, the long, blow-up slippery slide back at school (which was later ripped to shreds, costing us half of the profits made) proved to be the highlight of the day. 

  

Not taken at the Beach Walk but a sweet remnant from V Day that I couldn't leave out.

It felt good to have the camera out again but damn, I was a bit rusty on manual! 

Must polish up before Canada!

Which brings me to the subject of the next post.
And the reason for the barely restrained panic you might have picked up earlier.

In just over a month I set off on a little jaunt involving high suspension bridges,
train rides over rocky mountains and driving in a hired car on the wrong side of the road. 

With my mother. 

Anyone who says this is not an adventure sport holiday needs their heads checked.

Details to follow.

Promise.

The Specials 'Ghost Town'--Omg, still love this song. What a classic!!!!

go!

It's early February.

It's one of the hottest days of the year.

The grass on the field is...well, dead...

And the kids are chanting Gold House sucks!

Must be Sports Day.

Every year for the past don't-really-want-to-count-how-many I've been officiating at the start.

Far enough away from obsessive parents 

convinced their child has received a place

but close enough to the starters gun to feel actual pain when it goes off.

Marks

"Mam, can I go pee?" 

Set

 "I need to peeeeee!"

I don't even correct them with the more polite alternative anymore.

"You'll just have to knyp( hold it in).... it makes you run faster. The sooner you finish the sooner you can go to the toilet."

Do you think he's doing some visualisations?

I could eat this little okie up.

And this one.

That's John Cena on his T-shirt.
I actually know who John Cena is. 

I based a whole lot of maths lessons on the guy once. 

Never ever actually seen him wrestle on the TV though. 

The power of the media is far reaching indeed.

"African Velvet"  by Air

beginnings

And so it starts all over again
It's 07:30 and the sweat begins to trickle. It's the hottest day of the year so far. Whoopdedoo.
Kids are lugging huge boxes of stationery (the parents have to buy everything)
Anxious moms hover and ambush teachers with stories about why said stationery isn't at school.
Teachers wonder if they can get another cup of tea and a smoke in before the bell goes.
And if the non stain Sanex will live up to its promises.
Shark attack chatter helps us to briefly forget the coming chaos.
Bells rings and all assemble for genuflections and morning prayers.
 Our Father, help us to get through another year with all body parts and sanity intact. 
Also give us the strength to resist third glasses of wine and extra large Bar Ones when things have been rough.
Thanks.
Amen.

'The High Road' by Broken Bells

on giggling...and how to survive school inspections

So, I survived another week from hell and, because I still had tons of photos to take for the school's anniversary 'movie' as my principal is calling it (oy, the pressure), I had to find time in all the madness to grab the camera. And I am so thankful I did. These small moments of respite from the excruciating bureaucracy and extreme self-doubt that comes with these inspections kept me from going quietly insane. 

There is always time for a walk and a chat in the beautiful morning sunshine.

And there is most definitely always time for a giggle.

When did we forget to laugh with our whole faces, eyes scrunched up, totally abandoning ourselves to joy?

This is why I teach. : )

PS- Photos did not shrink well- best viewed full size.

The Last Week

Five days to go. I think there's nothing nicer in this world than break-up day. And teachers get to experience the thrill, the wildness, the sheer exhilaration of it every year.
Lucky us. This is payback for a job that, any other day in the school year is as demanding as that of an air traffic controller. So said some successful, celebrity-type ex-headmaster earlier this year when he gave an auditorium of Catholic teachers some strategies on how to manage discipline in the classroom. It stuck in my mind and I've been using it to dazzle anyone within earshot since then.
However, I've just tried Googling 'most stressful jobs' and am bitterly disappointed. In Ireland, it seems teachers only came fourth..after traffic wardens, vehicle clampers and voluntary workers!
In 2006, the BBC News reports that librarians suffer the most stress. Helloo?
All fellow teacher-librarians out there...much respect, dudes!

All that aside. I will be saying farewell to another class of nine- year olds. At the end of my first year I swore I'd never get so attached to my kids again.
But after a year of being mom, nurse, guide, cheerleader and friend who would not get a lump in their throat at that last hug goodbye?
Certainly not me.

Carpe diem, little ones!

Kids

As the school year winds down to a close I can afford to be sentimental and mushy about my chosen profession. Knowing that there are precisely ten more days of school left before we all pack up and head off for the beaches gives everything in the classroom a kind of rosy glow.

I sit on the desk and swing my legs and indulge in why I went into this profession in the first place. A chance to see the world through a child's eyes. To look at everyday things with a naivety and enthusiasm that only a child can. I'm constantly peppered with silly stories, tall tales and age-old knock knock jokes (9 year olds love those) and I am able to face them all with this benevolent smile on my face.
Nothing can phase me now. Ten more days.

And then freedom!


We threw out the boring, politically correct syllabus and spent last week talking and writing about super heroes. I mean, puleeze! What nine year old wants to learn about clouds and wind and how water is filtered?!