All I Want For Xmas Is....

a good, uninterrupted 2 hour afternoon nap!! Heaven on earth!


Highlights of the week:

Making gingerbread houses with the kids.... milk cartons, graham crackers, and lots and lots of icing and candies!

Seeing the Polar Express with all the kids in our program. I still hear the bell?
Do you?


Dodging a metal chair as it soared through the air at me. The second time I wasn't as quick to move, and the welt/bruise on my arm is tender... but it's bright red color is quite festive!

Seeing one of my IA's face beam when she opened her Xmas gift from me: a blue faux croco leather watch. She never knows when to come in from outside recess, and now that problem is solved!!

Reading aloud the Twelve Days of Christmas, Arthur's Christmas, The Polar Express, and the Nutcracker Ballet to my tradition-starved class. We whisper/sang carols in the lunchroom today, and hummed JingleBells in line on the way back to the classroom!! Very subversive.

Exchanging sweets, pretty cards, and lovely sentiments with my dear friends and colleagues. It is a great time to show appreciation for everyone's support.

Joking around with the kids that I'll see them NEXT YEAR!!!

Finally, counting my blessings, one of which is the opportunity to blog and "meet" other bloggsers. Thank YOU blogging friends!

Considering all I should be grateful for....

....Why am I not looking forward to tomorrow or the rest of the week ?

Well, there's that bruising, annoying cough thats dogged me for 3 weeks now...

My equally annoying, but also adorable adult son who now lives in our basement and goes to grad school.....

The prospect of keeping 7 Christmas-crazed ED kids calm for the next 4 days before Winter Break....

The challenge of finishing up all the shopping, all the food prep and planning, all the cleaning and organizing and packing associated with said Winter Break.....

The promise of weight gain, a migraine or two, and the depression that follows getting into a bathing suit (needed for the aforementioned Winter Break).....

The reality of 2 and a half days in a car with my hubby, my daughter, (heretofore referred to as Hokie because she has just gotten accepted, EARLY DECISION, to VaTech!!),also my annoying/adorable son and his girlfriend.... and my husband's IPOD song list.... do we have to hear Toby Keith AGAIN?!!?

Enough complaining for one night. It's time to chill in front of the TV with the hosts of QVC lulling me toward coma-like relaxation... then off to bed.

Good night all!

Loving the Free Exchange of Ideas.....

Check out the most recent Carnival of Education here!!

The Education Wonks have done it again. And of course, the contributors are key to the Carnival's success! So many interesting and provocative ideas out there in the edusphere! Enjoy!

The Characteristics of an Effective ED Teacher.... continued

After a long break, I return to my late summer round up of ideas about teaching emotionally disabled children. You can check out the original list here, and subsequent postings, here and here... also, here

6. I enjoy interacting with students. My students sense my enjoyment.


It’s not enough that I like children. It’s not enough that I consider myself the proverbial “people person”. Working with kids is my mission in life, and I can’t think of anything more satisfying than the day-in day-out, shoulder to shoulder work I do with them.
But that alone is not enough.

It only counts if the children KNOW I enjoy working with them. It only matters if they get it that they are my first priority, the reason I’m in this business at all. Frankly, if they leave my class unsure of my interest in their achievement, be it academic or personal, I haven’t done my job.

While this is true of students in general, emotionally fragile children are all the more sensitive to the moods and views of a distant or uninterested teacher. Without the compensatory skills needed to negotiate other’s agendas, emotionally disabled students are likely to shut down or act up sooner, longer, and more intensely. ED students misread and make personal any negativity or lack of engagement.

When we wear our hearts on our sleeves, when it’s obvious to everyone around us that this is where we want to be, where we are meant to be, we’re smoothing our students’ path to achievement.

Let’s see. Care enough to notice what interests them. Ask about kids’ ideas, and listen….really listen to their answers. Smile. A lot. Frown too. Show disappointment and displeasure as a byproduct of passion and commitment. Have expectations; help kids meet them. Illuminate the way out, around and through hurdles. Take kids by the hand (figuratively or literally, depending on their age), and pronounce for all to hear that kids and their learning is your priority! Live each day true to that pronouncement.

Whew, that feels good!!

We miss you Ms. V

On a day like today, when one of the teachers in our room is absent, there is certainly potential for chaos and complaining! With fewer grownups available to meet the needs of these neediest kids, it’s sure to be an EXCEDRIN HEADACHE #14 kind of day.

Moreover, with less adult attention at the ready, academics often take a backseat to behavior management.

But today, despite missing Ms. V, the kids managed well, and we, the two other adults, were busy but not bonkers. The reasons, I am convinced, are the time and attention we have put into establishing and maintaining our classroom rules and routines. Despite the stark change left by an absent and well loved teacher, the kids (for the most part) were able to hold onto the security of our schedule, the consistency of our behavior support program, and the reliability of those teachers who were present.

There were glitches in the day. Right from the start, one of the girls complained of a sore throat and headache, but because of the absence of fever, no call home could be made. She spent much of the day on the bean bag, restless, whining, and generally uncooperative. (Poor thing, by the very end of the day her fever finally spiked… but too late for an early pickup.)

Our crisis counselor was absent too, (tis’ the season), and her sub isn’t a group favorite. Another change during a day of too much change….

Another one of our sweet things arrived at school all bluster and “bad-ass”. One on one required.

Our autistic student withdrew into a quiet, isolating shell. Although it made for an easier morning, it’s not best practice to let it go. We did let it go because of our staffing shortage. The good news is that we caught him up with his morning assignments by lunchtime.

Still, I choose to concentrate on the good stuff:

Lots of hugs!
Our littlest “pistol” actually went to the cafeteria with the group and behaved well!! A true accomplishment.
At least 2 tantrums appeared to be headed off…. These kids responded to our cueing and emotional supports so that they TALKED rather than exploded.

Yep,good stuff. But I sure will be glad to see Ms. V. tomorrow morn!

Tough? I wonder.

Looking back, I see I haven't blogged since end of November.... so I guess I'm not so tough after all. Truly tough blogger/teachers don't let anything get in the way of frequent, thoughtful reflection. Hurrummph.

Seriously, I have a mammoth cold, the kind of cough that rattles the brain. Every free minute is spent sleeping.

Or shopping online for xmas gifts.

My little first grade girl asked me the other day if I could be sure and buy a Christmas present for everyone in the class.
"That way we'll be sure to have at least one present."

So sad, yes. But she is one wise little girl. It was our plan all along anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are in the throws of our study of Native Americans, a really fun unit that helps the children to contrast and compare several tribes, and also tribal life compared to their own lives. I love this kind of learning; these little kids show glimmers of deep thinking and enthusiasm for learning for learning's sake. Very powerful stuff.


This is the second year where the children will be using picture cards to set up data charts as a means for showing basic contrast and compare skills. Last year I spent hours creating these cool picture cards, mounted them on colored stock paper and then laminated them. And (of course) this year, our county has provided pre-made, even cooler picture cards, ready to use in just a matter of minutes.

Just my luck.

Another coughing fit. Time to stop. Must find the Nyquil.

We've got to be tough...

ED teachers need to be multi-talented. We need to have unique expertise in behavior modification, superb "differentiation of instruction" skills, and the ability to build and maintain a therapeutic learning environment.


We need to be tough. We can't complain too loudly when we are exhausted from the physcial and emotional abuse we take each day. We know getting hurt is quite likely, which is why feeling worried or overly cautious feels like a betrayal to our chosen profession.(See previous post.) It's part of the job. Don't like it? You don't belong here.

We are expected to master content, just like our gen ed counterparts. NCLB's Highly Qualified rules apply to us too, thus burdoning us with double the requirements with no additional benefits (salary, perks, etc.).

Like I said, we have to be tough.

After 4 days off, I'm feeling my toughness returning. I'm rested (well, as rested as one can be after driving from one end of the state to the other in holiday traffic), and ready for the weeks ahead. Christmas Break is only a blink away, and then we'll be into 2006. How does time slip by so quickly? I lose my breath thinking about it.

But there's no time to wonder, to reflect, to ponder the implications of any of these issues. Tomorrow is another day, the start of another week, and I've got to get ready.

That's what good ED teachers do.

At what cost? (And an update at end of post....)

Today one of our teachers was hit hard with a chair by an acting-out student. The kid "rammed" the legs of the metal chair into the teacher's chest.

Word of the attack spread quickly. Eyes widened, concern for our colleague grew. She's okay, we are quickly told. No lasting marks.

Then comes quiet acceptance.

It could just as easily have been any of us.

The reality of the dangers involved with working with emotionally unstable students hovers over us, ignored, unrecognized, dismissed... until something like this happens. Then we are pulled into a swirling frenzy of emotion: worry, resentment, then angry resignation.

What toll does this silent, pulsating sense of dread have on us? How does it affect our professional lives? What impact does this heightened stress have on our personal relationships? No doubt, our bodies feel the burden.

However noble this profession is, how many years am I shaving off my life because of my choice?

And at what point do we let ourselves talk about these important questions?

Finally, why does wondering out loud feel so much like betrayal?

UPDATE...
Needless to say, I wrote the above post soon after the incident, and my feelings were raw. Yes, it might seem overly dramatic to some, (see comment 1) but Ms. Smlph validated it for me.... those of us who repress worry understand what it is to HAVE to face it.

My colleague went home that afternoon, and as the evening wore on, her adrenline wained, and she got teary. She also found an ugly bruise developing over the tender spot of impact.

No charges filed... it was a clinical decision made by the teacher and the social worker and psyc. Hospitalization is in the works instead. Truly a more effective response for this kid at this time.

Liar, liar...

My sweet Katrina evacuee has twinkly bright blue eyes, a spikey blonde flat top, and a mouth that curls up in a sweet bowtie of a smile.

And he lies like a rug.

Even when it doesn't even matter, his first instinct is to lie.

No, mam, it wasn't me that threw the mulch.
No, the noise you saw coming out of my mouth was not from me.

Yes, I wrote her a thank you note.

Well, when his thank you note ended up reading I HATE YOU, I slapped myself on the head for being so gullible. When he looked up at me with those eyes, with that smile, I WANTED to believe. BONK! When will I learn?

But here's how I've been getting to the truth faster, more expeditiously:

"Well, E., here we are, out in the hall again, trying to work out the problem. The faster we get to what's true, the sooner we'll be done with all this and back into our day. That's how it's been working since you've been here, right E?

He agrees with a nod.

"So, sweetie. This is your chance to tell the truth."

I can't believe it, but this simple invitation, couched with a reminder about the realities of our day, has been working.

He is learning it's not the end of the world when he lies. He is learning we don't hold unreasonable, revengeful grudges. He is learning that lying might not be his only recourse when he's feeling up against the wall.

He comes to us with so much "baggage", not the least of which is rooted in losing everything when the hurricane hit. Add some neurological issues, a mood disorder, a likely genetic predisposition, and it's lucky lying is about the worse thing we're dealing with right now.

"This is your chance to tell the truth."

Truth. It's a powerful thing.

Harden My Heart

So it's official. I'm a grizzled veteran.

The little boy I nurtured and challenged and adored for three years (kindergarten, first and second grade), has moved onto grade three, with a new teacher, she of youthful exuberance and immense talent. I have stepped out of the picture despite my deep connection to him, and made way for the new folks to build a strong relationship with him. I put aside the joys, the pain, the frustration with his abusive mother, and an ineffective child protective services bureaucracy. I smile at him from across the hall, and pretend I don't hear his terror filled cries.

I do all this because it is part of the cycle of life in a school. It's good for the kid, good for his new teachers, and ultimately, healthy for me.

Letting go of the child this year has been hard. But I'd let go of his mom a long time ago.

She's part pitbull, part abuse "survivor" herself, part mother who does indeed love her child. She is impulsive, needy, cruel, a dreamer of big dreams. She's creative, usually capable of torturing her young one without leaving marks, and sometimes unable to keep from whacking him senseless.

And everything and anything I did in support of her son had absolutely no lasting, true effect.

Even calling CPS and ultimately testifying against her at the trial.

I cut her loose in my mind and my heart sometime in the spring of last year. No more sleepless nights for me. No more wondering what she was planning. I closed her down, even as I continued to care for her child.

It's a matter of survival. Mine.

But when I tried to describe this process to my colleagues today, as the new, young teacher looked over at me incredulously, I realized it's the nearly 20 years of experience that let me do this. You don't shut yourself down if your heart is still tender and fresh.

So I have to admit it. I'm a little toughened up. I'm a bit cynical.

I'm a grizzled veteran.

The Challenge of Switcheroo

Over the years, as I have had to plan for many ability levels, up to 3 grade levels at one time (this year, k-2), and only 2 adults to teach effectively... well, you can imagine that's been tough. One of my solutions has been SWITCHEROO: while my IA and I lead small learning groups, those kids who must wait their turn receiving our attention do something quiet at their desk....until....we.... switcheroo! The workers become the kids at their desks, and those kids move to the worktable for their intense worktime.

It can work. I've had great success with it over the years. But it requires close clock management, focused and well planned instruction, time for the kids to practice being quiet and independent at their desks, and patience from all involved.

We are definetly in the practice phase. At this point the whole thing seems well, stupid. How can we ever hope to manage all these kids, all these behavior problems, all these groups, all this curriculum... in the short time allowed by our cramped schedule?

It just feels nuts.

Here's hoping it goes alittle smoother tomorrow. More later.

We need a hero.....

When all is said and done, what teachers need is a fierce advocate, a bulldog of sorts, to stand strong FOR our students and AGAINST hypocrisy, stupidity, inequity.

Well, we’ve got that at our school.

It’s so cool.

When the cafeteria staff humiliated a child and his teacher as she tried to get him his properly due free lunch, even after the staff had been specifically directed by the principal to honor the free status of the student, that principal made her unhappiness known to the cafeteria staff.

She stood up for kids, against the bureaucratic mess of a mega school system. She stood up for teachers who seek to preserve students’ dignity, even in the face of the bean counters.

She was public about her priorities. She was clear that she meant business.

And later in the week, preschool instructional assistant (IA) complained loudly about a waiver our autistic student got so that he and his peers could play on the fenced in playground area. Because this child is a serious flight risk, he needs to be in a secured area, and the younger kids’ playground fits the bill. We signed up for two 20 minute playtimes each day, and stick to this schedule out of respect for the preschool classes that use the playground on and off throughout the day. The preschool IA has had her class out on that playground during our designated playtime, and unkindly detailed her displeasure to our new, young, easily intimidated (wonderful) IA. Even when the preschool IA was reminded how and why our class had special permission to be on the playground, she continued to bluster and sputter.

When I was informed of the preschool IA’s comments, I went directly to her and asked her if she had been informed by the administration about our special waiver. I had an email copy of that meeting’s minutes, and knew that the IA had in fact, been notified of the waiver. She said that she had not heard anything from the administration about our kids’ special needs.

I believed she wasn’t being honest. I said thank you, and went to our AP.

The AP stood up tall and mightily for our kid and the equity of the special waiver.

Case closed.

In the span of a week, I’ve been dramatically reminded what my bosses stand for. These reminders buoy me, make me feel supported. It’s almost like all the crap we go through is really worth it. Someone is on our side.

Like I said, it’s so cool.

Priorities

When two new little ones, a first grader and a kinder, arrive at your classroom doorstep just a day apart, and the kids you already call “yours” are having their own tough times, well, that’s when you pull yourself totally together and FOCUS.

1.You plan. Thoroughly, with great care and attention to every detail.

2.You rearrange the room to accommodate the need for an additional time-out desk.

3.You make sure you have a plentiful supply of gummy bears and skittles.

4.You update the crisis counselor, notify the office staff, and hope the cafeteria ladies don’t make his first lunch at his new school a nightmare…”What? You don’t have a lunch card? Then go hungry, little boy!!”


The planning paid off. The day went well, the new boy’s class work was completed satisfactorily, the routines and rules practiced in earnest.

Despite the fact I accidently broke a bookshelf while I was rearranging the room, the new set up worked well. (Yes, the bookshelf just fell in on itself as I went to gently push it 3 inches to the left. The particle board snapped slowly and the joints gave in. Very weird.)

The gummies and skittles are mostly for me.

The principal even went down to the cafeteria and notified the staff that this newbie would receive a free lunch today. You guessed it. They gave him a hard time as he came through the line. When he began to tantrum (“TEACHER, I AM SO MAD!”), they stood all the more resistant. Makes you wonder just who actually has the oppositional defiant disorder.


Anyway, my focus and preparation were truly impressive. Hmmm.


I am left to wonder: will my fellow teachers forgive me the unforgivable? I FORGOT TO PURCHASE FOOD TO BE SHARED AT TODAY’S WEEKLY TEAM MEETING. THE MEETING HAD TO GO ON WITHOUT APPLE SLICES, CHEESE & CRACKERS, AND PETITE SHORTBREAD COOKIES.

I am humiliated.

Welcome to our new kid!!

What does our new little cutie, an evacuee from Mississippi, bring to our class community?

Super manners!! Yes, Mam. No, Mam. Please Mam, shut the fuck up.

Insights into new cuisine!! We catch our own rabbits and cook ‘em up good!

Appreciation for the slow southern lifestyle!! I’m not doing any more work!! You can’t make me!

He’s been through a lot, and it took awhile to get him to our special program ---even though he came from a self contained, emotional disabilities program in Mississippi. His general ed teacher must have been wild with frustration as he had to stay there for several weeks before he got cleared to come here.

Another newbie arrives on Wednesday….. yikes, that’s tomorrow!! More to come!

Another committee is born.....

In response to the reauthorization of IDEA, our school is reorganizing the way we identify kids who may need special ed services. Today our school psychologist and social worker introduced the new plan of action. It puts a lot more teacher/expert remediation between the initial referral and a final eligibility for special ed.

No more Child Study Committee. Instead, a focused staff committee takes an initial inquiry by a teacher, helps to formulate a plan of intervention/remediation, assists in the implementation of that plan, reassesses frequently to determine the child’s responsiveness to the extra help, and only then can the referral move on to the official testing for learning problems.

The idea, we are told, is to make sure faulty teaching isn’t the cause for an increase in special education placements. For example, a child who isn’t reading will receive extra help in alternative (more direct, phonics based?) reading instruction BEFORE referral for special ed services.

I have read that this initiative might reduce the number of minority children identified as special ed.

The committee, called CARE (for Children At Risk for Education), will join the other school wide support committees that focus on supporting teachers and students who are not meeting the most basic, required levels of achievement: SBAT- Student Behavior Assessment Team, our various Professional Learning Community configurations (grade level teams, vertical teams-like k-3 or 4-6 teams, Emotional Disabilities Team). It’s meant to be another critical layer of support for our struggling students.

It sounds good. The federal requirements make it a necessity. And our caring, dedicated staff is committed to making it all work for the kids.

As a member of the SBAT team and 3 different Professional Learning Community groups, I won’t be joining the new committee. But I’ll cheer those staffers on, and hope the support services they provide will keep the numbers in our special ed program low.

Shouldn't we stop meeting like this?

Meetings out the whazzooo.

That's my reality. Tuesday and Wednesday mornings this week I came in 15 min. earlier than contract hours for school wide committee meetings that get me back to class just seconds before my kids arrive. So I actually come into school about an hour early just to get ready.

We have PLC meetings at the end of the day on Wednesdays, and I often have a collegial support meeting on Wed. or Thursday afternoon. Mondays twice a month take me out of my classroom for staff development (either school based, or county mandated).

I'm feeling kind of meetinged-out, and it's only October.

On the bright side.... we are getting alot done!! Kids are being studied and referred. Curricula are being aligned; policies are clarified. Plans of action are created and launched. Teachers are supported, AP's praised, others called on the carpet. Math supplies are now inventoried. Science materials shared. And that's just MY meetings. Imagine the energy quotient of all the meetings scheduled and held thoughout the building in a week's time.... in a month... per semester... through the year!

And tomorrow I'll be staying late to meet with my teammates and our principal on communication issues. Perhaps we'll decide more meetings are in order...

Exhaustion

I can't believe that a week has gone by without my posting. In my defense, I have been enjoying responding to others' blogs. It's the thinking, the mulling of ideas that counts, right?

Here's what's on my mind now: I have a little boy in my class, a physically beautiful tyke, elfish, huge eyes and long lush eyelashes.... with the personality of PeterPan meets the Tazmanian Devil. He hates, truly hates anything that smacks of traditional class work, and even play and learn activities are rebuffed when he figures out that we WANT him to do them. Power and control are his primary goals. It's been a challenge. Partly because he is so damn cute, he has gotten away with sooo much. He just doesn't believe we mean what we say and say what we mean. Not yet.

In fact, he is being exposed to very little in the way of the curriculum. Our curriculum at this point is to teach the joys and necessities of compliance.

Kids who comply with the routines and rules of the classroom do the fun stuff. Kids who don't, miss out. Kids who want to use scissors and the hole punch do so AFTER they do what they are supposed to do. You like to use my new pencils with virgin erasers? Then here are several math problems we have to do together first. You'd like to go visit your favorite counselor Mrs. D? You need to clean up first. EVERYTHING IS SET UP ON A CONTINGENCY. EVERYTHING. IT'S EXHAUSTING.

We are making progress. Everyone says so. It's slow. More of a one-step-forward-two-steps-back kind of progress. But it's hard.

Most people understand this. Teaching for mastery is tough. Addressing difficult behaviors, learning problems, and mental illnesses can be overwhelming. That's all understandable. People get that part of it.

It's the why we do it that stymies folks. And tonight, I am wondering the same thing. Is this my "Mr. Babylon" moment? I'm too tired to decide one way or the other.

Teaching To The Test ?

We all realize that, yes, we are teaching to the test. Our principal says so, in these exact words, with the regret of a caring professional who wishes it was different, but knows the realities. You gotta feel for her. After all, this is not her deal. Taking a stand against the mandates of our state and federal government would be career suicide. Instead, she tries to find a way to meld the testing expectations with building/maintaining an enriching learning environment. The question remains: does teaching to the test preclude enriching teaching?

I use to think yes. Now I am not so sure.

As a parent, I have seen my 17 year old easily pass the required SOL's [Standards of Learning]... ("They're easy, Mom"); still she enjoys the extensions and deeper study provided by her honors and AP courses. She and her top flight classmates continue to be challenged and even at times, delighted by her classwork.... and her teachers.

Her friends who don't excell academically, some spec ed and some "just not good at school" (her quote), spend much of their classtime learning what has come easy to my daughter: "essential knowledge" as filtered out by the state and county, HOW to take tests, and any gap information ( knowledge they missed in previous years). There is no time for broad, deep, thoughtful projects and activities.

The good news is they have a better chance to pass the test because of the focus on the tests.

And if you want more for your students than the opportunity to memorize what has been deemed essential by the test makers, that's also the bad news.

In my own special ed classroom, 5 first and second grade emotionally disabled students move slowly through the basic "essential" curriculum as they fight the emotional/behavioral challenges in their young lives. I no longer have to weed through the curriculum myself trying to find the most important aspects on which to concentrate. When so much of my time is spent on behavior management and therapeutic interactions, I have come to really appreciate the thick volumes of ESSENTIAL KNOWLEDGE my students are expected to learn. And that is a good thing.

So what's different this year?

This is the second year in a new, county-wide program that organizes grade level teams into Professional Learning Communities.(Check out info about PLC's here.) As such, I have a year of collaboration with my general ed cohorts under my belt, and a perspective that includes the results of changing my teaching. I have seen the value of really focusing on our teaching objectives, and of the power of analyzing my teaching and my students'learning.

When I look carefully at how and what my students have learned (primarily through test item analysis, but also by taking the time and energy to look hard at kids' writing products and other performance assessments), I am forced to take responsibility: responsibility for the methods, materials, and assessment strategies I choose. It's no longer a mystery..... MOST gaps in their achievement are a reflection of my ability to meet their learning needs.

Moreover, a culture of sharing ideas and expertise has penetrated our teaching teams. While a generosity of spirit was common for some among our faculty, it's now an expectation.... a norm.... that we will break through the isolation of the classroom and borrow and share and build on others' ideas. Very cool.

Yes, my intentions were always honorable: student achievement was always my goal. It's just that now I am on a path that really takes me there. With "alittle help from my (teaching) friends".

A Rivoting Research Topic...

My unofficial research topic this year is not complicated, or nuanced: I am concentrating on the changes I observe in the achievement of my students when I focus, in an intentional, specific way on increasing that achievement.
Of course I could argue I’ve been working for student achievement each year, every year of my teaching career. After all, if not for student achievement, why are we here?

Well, I can point to things that have distracted me over the years:
1. a lack of understanding about learning disabilities and effective teaching strategies
2. a worry that watering down the basic curriculum was the only way to approach my students’ difficulty learning
3. an isolation (mostly self-imposed) from my general education peers that kept me from learning (deeply) about content and new ideas fostered by the county
4. an arrogance that let me believe my ability to help children with their emotional disabilities was enough

What is different about this year? That’s for tomorrow’s post. For now, I’m off to bed. Unofficial research is indeed exhausting…. 