You Like Me! You Really Like Me! (With apologies to Sally Field.)

Well...well...picture me blushing here. The folks over at So Many Blogs, So Little Time just gave the nicest, kindest review of my blog. They are the second reviewers to grade me down on my template, so I guess I'll have to get that certain graphic artist in the family (I'm talking to you, Liz!) to design me a fab new template. Keep checking for updates.


In other news...I just had the greatest weekend! No, it wasn't jam-packed with activities and outings and parties and orgies. Oh, sorry, that just slipped in. Not that I have ever been to an orgy. But you are wondering now, aren't you? Good. I have to have SOME secrets on this blog.


Anyway, I had a great weekend because I did...NOTHING. NOTHING. Well, that's not strictly true since all the regular, fun stuff that makes my life worth living EVERY SINGLE DAY still had to be done, like cooking and cleaning and laundry. But I did not have to leave the house. I slept late, stayed in pajamas until late (afternoon) morning, got some reading done and just geared...back...mentally. It was lovely. And I needed it after that first week of school.


One would think that working with elementary school age children would be a breeze. Especially in the library. Reading to them. Checking out books. How hard can it be? The other school librarians out there are nodding their heads knowingly. It's just...hard. It's wonderful every day and I love my job, but it's...hard. It's hard to have a kindergarten class walk out the door and a fifth grade class walk in and have to change your entire way of teaching and talking. It's hard to help a teacher find materials, help a kid find a book they will love, work on the school web pages, help another kid, teach a class, shelve some books, work on a literacy bulletin board, print out a brochure you have created for a program, teach a class, work with a group of kids who are doing research on the Internet, help a teacher choose a DVD, teach a class...you get the idea. By the time I get home in the afternoon, I am ready for a nap. One of my fellow librarians told me the other day she fell asleep sitting up her couch at 4:45 in the afternoon and didn't wake up until 7:00.


I'm not saying that ever happens to me. Or that I wake up with a crick in my neck and drool on the couch pillow. That almost never happens.

If You Give The Librarian A Bagel (With Apologies to Laura Numeroff)

If you give a librarian a bagel, she is going to want some cream cheese.



If you put cream cheese on the bagel, she's going to want a plate.



If you take the bagel with cream cheese on a plate to eat in the car on the way to work, she will want to balance it on top of the glass container of salad you are taking to work to share for lunch.



If you go around a corner JUST a little too sharply, the bagel plate will begin to slide towards the passenger door.



If you try to catch the bagel on a plate with one hand while driving with the other, your fingers will just catch the edge of the plate, but then it will sliiiiiiide off the salad container and plop down between the seat and the passenger door.



If you pull over and open the passenger door to try to rescue your breakfast, the plate will tip over and dump the bagel neatly onto the pavement at your feet.



If you feel very, very annoyed that your raisin cinnamon bagel with cream cheese is now bird food, cheer up.



School has not started yet. You can be a little late. You can get a cinnamon roll with icing on your way to work. You immediately cheer up.



If you give a librarian a cinnamon roll. Well...she's pretty happy. And she won't want that old bagel.



But if you give a librarian a bagel with cream cheese. Put it on a napkin. Maybe it won't make an escape that way.

This is Why

I just made myself cry reading a book aloud to some of my students. It was "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane", by Kate Dicamillo, and if you haven't read it, YOU SHOULD.

I like many components of my job as a library media specialist in an elementary school.

I love the whole technology component, much of which didn't even exist when I started working as a librarian back in the stone age. Even checking out books using a computer was just a glimmer in some future-thinking librarian's eye back then. Web pages? (What's an Internet?) Projectors hooked to a computer that sat on your desk? Blogs? Wikis? Spam? Even email was actually called Electronic Mail at first and we were all intimidated by the very idea of sending mail on the computer.

I love working with kids. I love that ah-ha moment that occurs with them every now and then, that spark which ignites a love of reading, that connection when you match them with just the right book.

I love books. All kind of books. Kid's books. Grown-up books. books of every genre. I love to look at them, to smell them, to feel them, to read them. And when I get a new book order? And I can open all the boxes and spread them out and pick ANY ONE I WANT to read? That's better than Christmas and my birthday combined.

I love working with truly dedicated teachers who care about what they are doing and know it is the most important job in the world. And show it every single day.

But the best part. The very best part. Is reading a really good book to the kids.

I love to make them laugh out loud with delight. I love to make them put their hand over their mouth in suspense. I love to make them so involved in the story that they sit mesmerized, spellbound, in the thrall of the tale. And I like to make them sad. That may sound cruel. But I like to make them think, make them talk, make them appreciate what they have, make them put themselves into someone else's life for an instant.

I don't often cry when I read to them. But it was a small group. We were totally into Edward's adventures. It was the end of the book and he was in the doll shop when someone came in to choose him. I could tell a couple of the students guessed what was going to happen because they leaned forward, obviously excited. I shook my head at them not to tell the others. When I finished the last sentence, my eyes filled with tears. The kids sat silently thinking. One of the girls leaned forward spontaneously and put her hand on my knee in kindred sympathy and shared joy.

This is why I am a librarian. This moment.