With the start of the New Year, the weather has turned cold and winter has made it clear it is here to stay for a while. Where I live the temperature has begun to routinely plunge into the single digits (if not below) and going outside has become more of a chore than a delight. It's the time of year when kids get kind of antsy, even if it isn't snowy outside.

The antidote? Get your child hooked on a new chapter book or series.

For January I am recommending books that will take readers far, far away. To space, in fact. Something about space always snags the imagination of young readers, and my top ten pics are all chapter books that enthrall and delight -- ranging from books that are perfect for the emergent reader, to those that will capture the imagination even the most sophisticated eight year old reader.

The best part? Once your child is interested, they'll likely start inventing their very own space craft. Just supply them with one or two large boxes, duct tape, toilet paper rolls, and anything else you kid can lay claim to from the recycling bin.

I am currently reading the Star Jumper series with my class in conjunction with our unit of study on space, and the children are fascinated. It's a series about a boy genius who builds a real space ship out of cardboard, duct tape, and the things he finds from his attic. The writing is humorous and well crafted, and the story so imaginative and funny that the kids in my class come to school nearly every Monday with a report of space craft they have built over the weekend.

Have you ever wondered what to do with out-grown snow suits, old bike helmets and that heap of old tubing you've been planning to recycle, but haven't? Voila! An instant spacesuit... and countless hours of fun.

To me, the best holiday books aren't necessarily the most popular books of the season, but rather those that give kids (and adults alike) a reason to slow down and ponder. No matter what holiday is being celebrated, I find that the winter season is so heavily overshadowed by commercialism that finding and sharing books with kids that are not all about getting stuff is a much needed antidote to all the hype.

I have a collection of books I read aloud to my students every year, and many that I read to my four year old. They are books that explore the broad themes of peace, friendship, gratitude, simplicity and tradition. I've picked them not only for their well crafted beautiful sentences, but also for their sumptuous illustrations which bring a richness and depth to the telling of each story.

From classics revisited to poems and stories by renowned authors, this collection includes, in my opinion, some of the best holiday books ever.

As the air is getting colder and November is on it's way, even my second graders are coming to school curious and opinionated about the current political race. They hear snippets of news; overhear their parents talking. They have questions. They want answers.

In social studies we're investigating our local community. As a part of the study we've been exploring the purpose of rules, and the roles of leaders within the community. Naturally, the president has come up a fair amount, because, well, to someone who is eight the president is pretty much in charge of EVERYTHING IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.

According to second graders, the president is the boss of everyone. He makes all the rules (including the speed limits, and the consequences for jay-walking) and he tells everyone what to do.

Just imagine their surprise when our local friendly police officer came to do a presentation and informed them that it's actually the elected members of the legislature who make the rules, and not so much the president.

What then, does the president DO, they wanted to know?

Well...

This week there was frost on the ground and the sky was strewn with wind-tattered clouds, V's of honking geese, and the last wayward monarchs heading toward . At recess the kids would pause for a second, mid soccer game, to look up at the sky and yell LOOK! LOOK! Their faces full of wonder and glee.

It was the kind of weather that called us outdoors every day for an extra mid-morning recess.

Even though I'm theoretically sacrificing academic time by heading outdoors for a handful of minutes with my class, I find I mostly gain time because the children are less restless and more willing to settle down with a good chapter book or a math activity when their bodies have had some time to run outdoors. But I also like going outdoors with them because it gives me a chance to watch them interacting together in an unstructured way.

I keep noticing how uncertain they are in their play together without an adult intervening for them whenever something doesn't go their way.

I know. I've probably exhausted you with my posts about play and children, but it's my obsession. I can't let it go.

Today we changed the calendar in our classroom. A brand new month with all its possibilities. October, with it's red maple leaves, fat pumpkins and decidedly chilly weather. But while I look forward to October because it is the pinnacle of my favorite season, when the hills turn vermilion and yellow, and the first twinge of wood smoke is in the air, the children love it for a different reason entirely. Halloween.

For children, at least all children who attend mainstream public schools, Halloween is at the zenith of all things adored: fantasy, candy, mystery, and the possibility of being afraid but not too afraid. Already they've been talking about their costumes for weeks, and with the turning of the calendar, we've aquired a new classroom routine: counting down the days.

Today 29, tomorrow 28. And they're pestering me, "Can we have a Halloween party, PULEEEZE?"

As a teacher in a public school I've always sort of dragged my feet on this one. I've let the kids share their excitement, and swap stories about what they're planning to wear for the big night, but I've kind of tried to stay away from having a full blown party in our classroom... because, well, isn't it somehow blurring the separation of church and state?

Almost every year I've had at least one child whose family doesn't celebrate Halloween. And granted, in its current form, decidedly one of the least denominational holidays hyped by the media. Yet it is still a holiday with religious origins, and parents who don't celebrate the holiday have every right to expect that it won't be foisted on their kid at school-right?

Or maybe kids should just be allowed to be kids at school-regardless of what their parents believe? Perhaps they should be allowed to soak up their classmate's excitement and engage in a full-blown Halloween party with sticky popcorn balls and freaky costumes even if their parents don't let them dress up or engage in such activities at home. Forget the Day Of the Dead for a second. The only thing kids care about is the candy anyway. Right?

What do you think? Should kids be allowed to celebrate Halloween in school-or should schools skip such festivities all together?

On the first day of fall there is frost on the grass in the fields as I drive to work. The maples are turning red. The kids come dashing into the classroom wearing new snug fleeces and sneakers: the first time their toes have been covered since summer.

Every week I am struck by their exuberance; by their unbounded energy and enthusiasm. They come into the classroom like puppies--especially the boys, always the boys. They race one another to the door even though they're supposed to be using walking feet. They laugh, twirl, share stories about their bus rides ("Our bus almost exploded this morning! Really!"), and swap glimpses at secret diaries (a new obsession among the girls.) They come to school eager to play, eager to have fun, eager to learn.

And it's this fact--that they have this unquenchable desire to chase each other around the room or linger in a corner whispering secrets--that always makes a lump swell at the back of my throat; because especially during these weeks in mid September, every single teacher in every single classroom is focused on academic testing. Play isn't even on the schedule.

Today was Picture Day.The day responsible for the documentation of kids as they grow, wearing dorky hairdos (a.k.a my three inch hair-sprayed bangs in seventh grade) and awkward fashion trends. The day that marks the start to another school year; another September.

Every year the kids come to school on Picture Day giddy and twittering, and they wear everything under the sun: from ties and Oxford shirts, to favorite tees that are ripped and worn. Some girls try to get away with makeup. They sneak to the bathroom and come out with an excessive lip gloss smile. Others come with hair curled, outfits perfectly matched. They spend all morning terrified that they'll get something on their shirts, and that if they do, their Moms will kill them.

I love watching the kids arrive on Picture Day because I get a different glimpse of them on this day than I do on any other. I see them dressed up and dressed down--reflecting their own varied styles and the styles of their parents. I catch a glimmer of the kids who have their own fashion sense--who's to say a ripped pirate shirt and a pair of beaten up soccer shoes isn't all the rage? I get a snapshot of those parents who either care a lot, or don't care at all about how their children dress.

As a parent, I fall somewhere in the middle, leaning ever so slightly towards to the don't care at all side of things. I let my son, who just started preschool a couple of weeks ago, pick out his clothes. It doesn't bother me at all when he wears striped and plaid and possibly a Hawaiian print shirt to boot. As long as he's happy, I'm cool. Mostly.

It's the end of the third week of school. The weather has become suddenly chill. The playground is windy, and the grass is littered with the first colored leaves. The kids wear brightly colored sweatshirts, but shiver because the habit of shorts and skirts is not easily broken. Their summer tans are still dark, and their laughter is ruckus as they run towards the recess yard.

For the first several weeks of school I make a point of heading outdoors for some extra play time. Time to play group games and giggle. Time to teach the kids how to be freinds, good sports, and comrads in play. Remember Capture the Flag and Kick the Can? It's my mission to re-teach these classic games to the younger generations, who seem to have never learned them.

But we're also heading outdoors because natural light helps kids learn.

In fact, "...students with the most daylight in their classrooms perform better-by 20 percent on math tests and by 26 percent on reading tests-than those with less daylight...." which is incentive enough to head outside, away from our fluorescent lighted classroom, with it's single (albeit rather large) window.

The children come back indoors refreshed and lively. They are able to concentrate longer, even if all they do outdoors was sit and read under big trees (and not run around at all.) And it's always the sunniest days in the classroom, when the yellow sunlight is falling in rectangles across the carpet, that we have one of those days: a quiet hum of activity, everyone busy learning, everyone content and focused.

It's a fact that you should keep in mind too, when your kid heads off the bus directly for the T.V. set, or the computer. Insist your child spend as much time outdoors while the weather still permits it! And when planning a workspace for your child to complete homework, or do weekend reading or projects, pick one with an abundance of natural light.

Does your child's classroom have ample natural light? If not, offset the effects of being under artificial light all day with a quick walk around the block, or a story read in a cozy window nook drenched in late afternoon sunlight.

The first week of school is behind us now-and we're in the midst of the second, getting used to routines, expectations and each other. The classroom is bustling with activity from the minute the children arrive, to when they leave, tired and hot at the end of the day.

Aside from building a strong classroom community during the first couple of weeks of school, teachers spend the bulk of their time trying to get to know their students-both personally and academically. We have so many questions: did our students regress over the summer or grow? Did they read? Do math? Play games? Travel?

We spend our days conferring with individual students and soliciting information through writing prompts, drawing activities, and assessments.

As parents, you are likely doing the same thing, right? Every parent comes with a pocketful of worries, questions and concerns.

I know this is true because my son just started preschool this past week, anda great deal of my time is consumed with wondering about small things-will they open his lunch containers for him? Will they heat up his food? Will they help him make friends?

But really, when I think about it, all these little concerns amount to one great big huge one: will my son's teachers see him as he really is? Will they get to know him, and help him to grow and learn without quashing his sweet earnestness?