Once when I was young, the field behind us flooded and hundreds of frogs laid eggs. My parents had bought me a very nice pair of new shoes and after climbing the shed and watching the frogs over the fence for many days, I was ready to go exploring. I put on my new shoes and got a coffee can with a lid. I walked into the deep, water-soaked mud of the field and began to collect little toads. They were so cute! each one was a perfect little frog no larger that a pinkie tip. They had little mouths and little eyes. Into the can they went. When it was half full, I thought I might need a larger collecting can, so I squished my way back across the field. Each step was harder than the first. My shoes kept getting stuck in deep holes full of soft mud and water. Finally, I was out of the field. I looked down at my feet and panic flooded me. My shoes were ruined. With great stealth I made my way back to my house and hid the shoes in the garage. Walking very softly, I went to my room so I could also hide. When I got there, I sat on the floor and released my cache of toads. They were jumping all over the room when my mother opened the door to fuss about the shoes. Immediately her focus changed and with tight lips and a fierce frown (and one or two squeals) she helped me catch all of the little toads and put them back into the can. They were everywhere and when we would catch one and open the can, others would jump out. They got behind everything, under the bed, and even tried to go out the door. By the time we were finished, her anger had dimmed. All she said was, that I would have to take the frogs outside and clean up the shoes. For some reason, I don't remember getting in trouble for that, though I was sad because my pretty new shoes were never the same.
I only bring this life moment up because tomorrow I will be teaching with everything new - yes, I became a science teacher and I still make messes - but tomorrow I will be using 3 new types of technology and teaching on a block schedule, which I have never done before. I have five different classes to plan for and 3 different grade levels. It feels a bit like I am chasing toads, but I know that if I do this one toad at a time, I will be able to do it all. Hopefully, like that one dead toad I found in my room after the toad time, I will not miss anything.
Monday, January 18, 2010
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