The "Dormitory"

As I sit in Gram's room at the "dormitory," I listen to Miss Shirley next door say the words, "Help me" over and over again. It isn't dire. It never is. She can say that a thousand times a night. I think maybe she is just lonely. Of course, the first time I heard her, I panicked! The nurse's aide with me assured me, "That's just Shirley. Just ignore her." That sounds fine, sort of, in theory, but what happens when she really DOES need help? "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" story comes to mind, but it isn't the same. That boy was capable of making choices and needed to be taught a lesson about only calling for help when it really needed. But, dementia patients really can't be held accountable...

This time, I checked on Shirley to be sure she was, indeed, okay. She told me she needed help. Uh huh. Got it. I asked her what I could do for her. She said, "I need help." Okay, I'll word it differently. "What kind of help do you need?" "I need help not to fall." She says this as she is sitting in her recliner, quite comfortable. I dug deeper. As it turns out, she wanted out of her recliner and into her wheelchair. She also needed her shoe put back on. I adjusted her wheelchair for her, and it became very apparent that I would never be able to do this myself. In addition, was I even allowed? What are the laws about this? If I help her and something happens, am I liable? Can someone sue me for trying to help an elderly dementia patient? It's so sad that these are the kinds of things one must think about... I let someone who works here know, and retreated back into Gram's room, a bit disappointed that I couldn't do more. As Shirley waited for help to arrive, she continued. "Help me. Help me. I need help. Somebody help me, please. Please help me." It goes against every instinct to sit idly by while someone calls for help! Then, she got more specific. "I need a man to help me. I need a man to help me. Or a boy. I need a boy to help me. But not a small boy. I need a big boy. I need a big boy to help me." Miss Shirley is a bit bigger, herself, and knows a small boy will not be able to help her make the transfer to her wheelchair. As the director explained to me earlier, "Shirley is a 'two-person lift.'" In the midst of the angst, I had to laugh a little at poor Shirley requesting help from a man or a big boy...

The morale of THIS tale? Miss Shirley got help into her chair, into the bathroom, got her eye drops, etc. She hasn't made a peep since...

Sundays

I almost always ruin Sundays by thinking about and dreading Mondays. It's not that I don't like my job, because I do. I just would rather not go, if I had a choice! I like the summers when I don't have to stress about getting enough sleep, having something to wear, etc. As I write this, it is midnight, and I have no idea what to wear tomorrow, despite the fact that I spent hours doing laundry today. It doesn't seem like I washed anything dressy for work. I can't really wear jeans or sweats or sheets to work!

Tomorrow (today, now), I'm having "Kindergarten Day" with my students. We're going to sit on the floor and I'm going to read them stories in French. "KD" is part of the TPRS plan, I believe, and this is the first time I'm going to try it. We have a two-hour early release, so each class is only about 20 minutes long. The only thing I'm really worried about is not having enough time. I definitely need to start class right when the bell rings - something I need to do more of anyway!

Friday is the last day of the quarter. I can't believe how fast it has gone. The only bad part of TPRS is trying to figure out how to give the kids grades, since there is very little written work. I feel like such a terrible teacher this year because everything is new, I don't have a good plan of what I'm going to teach, and I just feel lazy and unmotivated... I need to light a fire under myself!

Need help with my house! Please!

As usual, it's late, and I should have been working on lesson plans for tomorrow and the rest of the week, doing the dishes, re-organizing the bedroom, cleaning every inch of my house, and the list goes on and on. I find myself so lacidasical and unmotivated, stressed and overwhelmed. I don't know where to start, I don't know how to start, and I know even once I get started I will have an incredibly difficult time finishing whatever it is I have started. I read other blogs like "Parisienne Farmgirl" and want to be like her. I want my house to be in order so I can work more on decorating, my refinishing projects that are silently waiting in the wings, and so I can feel like a decent human being! I have WAY too much STUFF. I can't seem to figure out how to pare it down and purge purge purge. I'm so sentimental that every little thing I own tells me to keep it, regardless of the fact that I have a rather small farmhouse with two closets - one in the living room and one in the spare room - neither or which is very functional. I like to be organized and I like to be clean, so what's the problem??? Add to all of that, my wonderful "manfriend/lover/live-in/life partner/best friend" (I hate the word boyfriend, but there seems to be no good alternative for the man with whom I share my life, but to whom I am not married - YET.) who spends all his time in the garage or under the hood of one of his various vehicles. I'm happy to see him happy, but I don't like spending all my time working on OUR house while he is spending all his time working on HIS stuff. By "working on his stuff," I really mean piddling around outside doing something that is never apparent to me. I don't see anything that is different, fixed, cleaned, improved, etc. Just what DOES the man do out there? Anyway, some help in the house would really be appreciated and I feel like that sentiment is quite warranted.

So, that leads me back to my original complaint which is the pigsty, rather than quaint farmhouse, in which I reside and need a solution. Who out there can help? I need a plan; I need someone to keep me on track with the organizing; I need someone to help me design cabinets, shelving, and hanging space for my spare room (to become a large walk-in closet, sewing and craft room); I need someone to help sand the edges of the floor in my back room; I need someone to thoroughly clean and sanitize my entire house. Anyone available for the job or have any suggestions? Please! If I get really brave and let go of any sense of pride, I'll post some photos of the problem. Hopefully, they won't scare anyone away, but instead will inspire someone to come to my rescue!

Farm Chicks Site

I haven't figured out, yet, how to put a display of good sites to go to on my main page... Until I do, here is one of my favorites!

The Farm Chicks
http://thefarmchicks.typepad.com/farmchicks/about-the-farm-chicks.html

Influential and Appreciated

There is something so amazing about feeling influential and appreciated. I read something a student of mine posted in her myspace profile about how she finally is taking a class she likes (French class) and learning a new language is fun especially with Mademoiselle (__ME__). It's that sort of thing that warms the heart and makes all the frustrating parts of teaching worthwhile.

I pride myself on conducting a class that most kids enjoy and I believe that most kids get along well with me. I believe that is half the battle. Kids will work harder for a teacher who cares about them, gets to know more about them than what seat they sit in, and will listen to their problems or triumphs. During my first year teaching, I received a note from a student who said, "To Miss __(ME)__, the only teacher who ever listened to me." That one phrase made all the annoying stories disappear and in their place was the feeling that I might have done something good for at least one person. I might have made one student feel worthwhile and more confident. I would love to know what she is doing now...

More thoughts on this later. Remind me to tell you about Chuck. He is a very special student to me.

Des francais à Sturgis

I went to South Dakota this summer to visit my family, and while at Mount Rushmore, I met a group of extremely nice and friendly bikers from France who were in the USA to go to Sturgis! I had no idea this was a worldwide obsession.

Great American Novel

I'm such a rookie... I'm not even entirely sure how blogging works, but it seems like 1. I should learn more about it, and 2. It appears to be the modern equivalent of writing the great American novel, which has always intrigued me. Since I enjoy reading and learn from other people's posts, advice and stories, maybe there will be someone who can benefit from mine or at least get a good laugh out of them!

Be patient while I try to figure this whole thing out, make it aesthetically pleasing and try to be interesting! I can only assume it's going to be quite the opposite until I have a little more practice, but after that, watch out, world!