A New Babysitter

We tried out a new babysitter today, one not named "M," thereby breaking our streak.  But we liked her anyway.  She's their first-grade teacher's teenaged daughter and so I warned the kids extra that whatever they did with the babysitter not only came back to me but would get back to their teacher!  Double whammy.

But they were great.  A tad precocious, actually, because they spent the get-to-know-you hour teaching her how to play chess!

Appreciating Teachers

It's Teacher Appreciation Week, the one week a year America appreciates its teachers. 


Seems wrong somehow, no?  Like how you only show your love for loved ones on Valentine's Day.


I won't get on my soapbox here about the under-appreciation (pay/support/respect) of teachers here.  


Instead, in baking brownies for the teacher lunch at school today, I'm sending along virtual brownies to all of my favorite teachers here.  


Please know that I appreciate you all year long!


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My Favorite Brownies

Makes 24 brownies

One 12 oz. package (2 cups) Semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided

½ cup butter

3 eggs

1 ¼ cup all-purpose flour

1 cup granulated sugar

¼ teaspoon baking soda

1 tsp. vanilla extract

½ cup chopped nuts (optional)

In large, heavy saucepan over low heat, melt 1 cup chocolate chips and butter (for best results, melt butter then add chocolate chips and melt—prevents chocolate sticking to saucepan); stir until smooth. Remove from heat. Add eggs; stir well. Add flour sugar, baking soda, and vanilla; stir well. Stir in remaining (unmelted) chocolate chips and nuts, if desired. Spread into greased 13 x 9 inch baking pan. Bake in preheated 350°F oven for 18-22 minutes or until set. Cool completely. Cut into 2-inch squares.

Nestle chocolate chip bag

Punch and Cookies

The planning started last night during our picnic:  Sis wanted a lemonade stand (our first, well, after the maracas).

Except she doesn't like lemonade.  And so she decided on Zinger Punch.

And oatmeal cookies.

$4 each.

I agreed to all but the latter, talking her down to 50 cents each.

Before school they made the signs; during school, I made the oatmeal cookies from the recipe on the Quaker Oats box.  When they got home, they rushed to set up, hauling the table, cookies, punch, signs and  other items I'd gathered (coin jar, napkins, cups, little trash can, tape) to the corner.  Sis said she was so excited that she almost burst at school and almost ran to the bus before class was dismissed.

They had their first customer in under a minute.  And continued to have customers, about one every ten minutes, for the next two hours, netting close to $15 (which, as you can imagine, didn't begin to cover it; but that's not nearly the point).  Sis and Bud were very  polite, carefully explaining the offerings and the prices, even going so far as to explain how to make Zinger Punch (that's a liter of Sprite and 3 Red Zinger/Celestial Seasonings tea bags in the fridge for 8 hours or so; we went through 2 plus almost 4 dozen cookies--the kids got a lot of both);  when they weren't serving, they were waving to whomever drove or walked by--who could resist that?  Some did, of course, but I pointed out that money wasn't the object, the fun was (except the one time I reiterated that in front of Mama Teacher and got it all messed up, "It's not about the customers, kids, it's about the money!").

There were some very special customers indeed:  Mama Teacher and CJ, birthday girl/babysitter M (who got a freebie), older babysitter M (no, not collegiate M, high school M), and perhaps most surprising of all, their first-grade teacher!  Yep, she came by with her daughter and dog and bought punch and cookies, chatted with the clearly overwhelmed and elated kids, and watched them play a little basketball.  Bud had apparently told her we were having the stand and she said she might stop by.  So wonderful that she actually did.  We're grateful to all of our customers.

The only thing we didn't do--which was my oversight, because I didn't think they'd actually do much business--was to determine a charity for the money.  So we're choosing between autism awareness (for CJ) or cancer (particularly an upcoming fundraiser to help cover the medical bills not covered by insurance of our dear friend Miss M).

I have a feeling we'll be doing many more of these, though!

For All the Teachers: Thank You

This is for Sis and Bud's teachers and all the teachers we know (especially the one who didn't get a single thank-you note or appreciation gift this year).

WHOSE CHILD IS THIS?

Author Unknown

"Whose child is this?" I asked one day

Seeing a little one out at play

"Mine", said the parent with a tender smile

"Mine to keep a little while

To bathe his hands and comb his hair

To tell him what he is to wear

To prepare him that he may always be good

And each day do the things he should"

"Whose child is this?" I asked again

As the door opened and someone came in

"Mine", said the teacher with the same tender smile

"Mine, to keep just for a little while

To teach him how to be gentle and kind

To train and direct his dear little mind

To help him live by every rule

And get the best he can from school"

"Whose child is this?" I ask once more

Just as the little one entered the door

"Ours" said the parent and the teacher as they smiled

And each took the hand of the little child

"Ours to love and train together

Ours this blessed task forever."

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Unity

By Cleo V. Swarat

I dreamed I stood in a studio

And watched two sculptors there,

The clay they used was a young child’s mind

And they fashioned it with care.

One was a teacher:

the tools she used were books and music and art;

One was a parent

With a guiding hand and gentle loving heart.

And when at last their work was done,

They were proud of what they had wrought.

For the things they had worked into the child

Could never be sold or bought!

And each agreed she would have failed

if she had worked alone.

For behind the parent stood the school,

and behind the teacher stood the home!

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A Loving Teacher

by Pat McClain

Things our grown-up mind defies

Appear as giants in children's eyes.

A gentle touch upon her head

A simple word when kindly said.

Complete attention when she calls.

Her knowing you have given all.

Correcting in a loving way.

Instilling trust in what you say.

Making her believe unique

The tiny flaw upon her cheek.

Admiring old and faded dresses.

Reminding her we all make messes.

Words of comfort you've softly spoken

A promise you've made she knows won't be broken.

Your knowing her doll that was lost today

Is just as important as bills you can't pay.

Helping make her plans and schemes

Giving her hope and building her dreams.

All of this and so much more

Is in her mind forever stored.

They who touch her life awhile

Can either make or break that child.

Education is important, true,

But so much more, her faith in you.

You've weathered through the storm and strife;

You helped to build a small girl's life.

You're truly one to be admired.

For you gave more than was required.

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Tribute To A Teacher

by Myrna Beth Lambert

We held their hands the first day of school.

Our hearts were filled with pride.

There was an aura of fear and apprehension

As we stood close to their side.

We deposited our children at your door,

Our most precious and prized possessions.

We trusted that you would give them more

Then Reading and Writing lessons.

Our unspoken words were, give them self worth.

They are little children, respect their rights.

Teach them with love and remember compassion.

Use a firm hand to break up their fights.

As the years went by, you did us proud

With your guiding hand and understanding smile.

You gave much more then we expected.

That was your way, your undeniable style.

What higher tribute can we pay a teacher?

To what greater heights can he ascend?

Than to have his students praise his work,

And to say "He is my friend."

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You Are My Special Teacher

Author unknown

You are my special teacher

I just want you to know

I always had fun in your class

How the time has flown!

Thank you for helping me

To learn all that I know

I will always remember you

Even when I'm grown!

I'll miss you being my teacher

I know the reason why

I am feeling very sad

Because it's time to say goodbye

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When You Thought I Wasn’t Looking

by Mary Rita Schilke Korzan

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you displayed my first report, and I wanted to do another.

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you fed a stray cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you gave me a sticker, and I knew that things were special things.

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you put your arm around me, and I felt loved.

When you thought I wasn’t looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt--but that it’s all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you smiled, and it made me want to look that pretty too.

When you thought I wasn’t looking, you cared, and I wanted to be everything I could be.

When you thought I wasn’t looking--I looked...and wanted to say thanks for all those things you did when you thought I wasn’t looking.

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Where do all the teachers go?

by Peter Dixon

Where do all the teachers go

When its four o’clock?

Do they live in houses

And do they wash their socks?

Do they wear pajamas?

And do they watch TV?

And do they pick their noses

The same as you and me?

Do they live with other people

Have they mums and dads?

And were they ever children

And were they ever bad?

Did they ever, never spell right

Did they ever make mistakes?

Were they punished in the corner

If they pinched the chocolate flakes?

Did they ever lose their hymn books

Did they ever leave their greens?

Did they ever scribble on the desktop

Did they wear old dirty jeans?

I’ll follow one back home today

I’ll find out what they do

Then I’ll put it in a poem

That they can read to you.