They try to make me go to rehab, I say no, no, no...

If I were a celebrity, the tabloids would be on fire. One of my reps would have released a statement today that I voluntarily checked myself into a treatment facility (named something like "Tranquility" or "Serenity," located somewhere like Santa Monica or Colorado) due to exhaustion.

US Weekly would probably report that I was receiving treatment for substance abuse, namely my cocaine habit. Lifestyle would report that I was suffering from some kind of eating disorder related to Hollywood's questioning how thin I was (hey...if I'm a celebrity, I'm gonna be a skinny celebrity). And OK! magazine would have the exclusive from a "source close to me" that I was hiding out after word leaked that I was both suicidal and having James McAvoy's love child. Oh, and the National Enquirer would be reporting that it was not actually me, since I was abducted by aliens a few months back.

But, since I'm not a celebrity, I'm simply exhausted from a long short-week of work and wrangling twenty-one fourth graders, and one big snowball fight. So, for my wild evening out, I returned a couple of videos and picked up a pizza on my way home. I came home and hit the bed with the laptop, so I could catch up on whatever episodes I could find online of shows like Pushing Daisies and Bones. And the Office. That I haven't watched in weeks.

But if OK magazine wants to report that I'm having James McAvoy's love child, well...I wouldn't mind proving them right.

Things my kids say to me...

Things I heard today:

"I reject your reality and substitute my own."

"Miss O, you're very twirly today." (and I was...)

kid: "My nose is running."

me: "Well, go catch it."

kid: "No, Miss O. I mean I have a lot of snot."

me: "Yes, I know your nose was not actually running off your face."

And when you have a day like yesterday, and people are annoying you to no end, sometimes you have to just remember why you changed your major to education in the first place:

In Which I Rant and Rave and Act All UnChristianlike

Good Gawd all hell broke loose at school. And since it was a bunch of top secret "don't tell anyone" stuff, it was mostly just a bunch of women freaking out in hushed whispers, which is pretty funny. Oh, and since it's all top secret stuff, if you know anyone at my school, don't talk about this, and you didn't hear it from me and you can't prove anything. So there.

Our numbers came in, and this year, instead of waiting until the last possible moment (which was my experience), our principal told us right away. Only in typical form, he didn't tell us who was going where, just that this grade is losing one person, and this grade is sending one person to fourth grade, and one person to fifth grade. And that is sending a few teachers into a veritable tizzy. While I'm teaching science.

Here's the part that I'm pissed about. They're coming to me, freaking out, saying how they can't move because they'd have to learn a new grade level and they're very busy outside of school and they don't want to have to teach a TAKS grade, and the kids coming up are a particularly crazy bunch and they don't want to have to teach them again. To me. The girl who did this last year. And has no choice but to do it again.

PUH-LEEZE. I didn't complain. I didn't cry. I don't complain right now. (Which is, by the way, why I was the one picked to move last year.) I got the word I was moving, and I packed my shit up and moved. And tried to keep a good attitude about it. And am doing my best, working way too hard, to teach these kids, because it is my job and I knew when I signed the form ten years ago to switch my major to education that it was not going to be easy. I work long hours and grade papers in Starbucks on Sundays and spend most of my days stressed out because I don't know if what I'm doing is going to help them pass the TAKS, but I keep going and tutor four days a week because we're all in this together, and it's about them not me.

I just want to shout at them:
- Do you think I wanted to move my classroom for the 8th time in 9 years of teaching? But I did.
- Do you think I wanted to walk into a classroom and not have one idea of what I was teaching? But I did.
- Do you think I wanted to go into a grade knowing I would have to go to training after training after training on my own time? But I did.
- Do you think I have nothing but free time on my hands, so I can just do all this in my free time, without having to give up anything I wanted to do? But I did.

But I don't yell those things. I nod sympathetically. And say "we'll just see." And when they leave I roll my eyes.

Sorry ya'll had to be a part of that.

THINGS THAT MAKE MY WORLD GO ROUND:
My best friend had her baby today, and he is the most precious thing in the whole wide universe! And I have held him and he is perfect.

Time for a break…

So, it’s getting close to Christmas break time. Not just Christmas, but Christmas break time. We have tomorrow (class party day!) and then a two-thirds day called early release. The kids get so excited, even though we only get out an hour and a half early.

I’ve noticed that even though we’ve been holdin’ up pretty well in Crazy (population 22), I’m definitely ready for a break. For example, I typically get to school at about 6:45, and leave at about 5 - 5:30. For pretty much the month of December, I've rolled in to school between 7:15 - 7:45. And I've been out the door by 4. And the class hasn't fallen apart. I haven't exactly been the picture of expedient grading, but otherwise, it hasn't been bad.

I am, however, enjoying them a bit more lately...
Things that make my world go round:
- my kids, all sprawled out on the floor, reading a novel
- One of my princes, who brings me as much chagrin as joy is a hair-twirler, similar to me. He sits and twirls his hair as he is engrossed in his book.
- The creativity and seriousness with which they take the assignment
- One of mine, attempting to use a glue stick to glue down the laminate top of his desk that was coming off. But he stacked four heavy books on top so it would stick…and his buddy is leaning on it for more weight.

If I had a snow day...

Who knew there was a freezing fog advisory? Apparently we are under one.

So, last night at around seven it started pouring rain, but since it was 23 degrees the rain was freezing. Even though our district is notorious for knee-jerk reactions to calling off school, it was highly doubtful that I'd have the day off. But that didn't stop the daydreaming...

If I had a snow day (this close to Christmas) I would:
- go back to bed as soon as I got the call (assuming I wasn't already at school, which has twice been the case for snow days)
- wake up late and make pancakes with the last of the bisquick (how very pioneerish of me)
- sit at my dining room table for most of the day, with my scrapbooking supplies in front of me
- catch up on The Office, NCIS, The Mentalist, Pushing Daisies and the other bits of television that I missed all last week...or last month.
- watch all of the episodes of Bones and House that I have had to forgo this season
- begin watching Chuck from the beginning, instead of the middle, which is what I've done this season
- eat leftovers from tonight's yummy dinner
- drink lots of apple cider
- spend lots of time in my favorite fleece and long-sleeved shirt
- scrapbook some more.

Who am I kidding? I'd sleep pretty much the whole day away, watching excessive amounts of Lifetime and abc Family.

But, sadly, it was not meant to be. I went to school today. It wasn't that bad, but trying to figure out what to wear was a bit of a whippin'. We went to Target on our conference break, and had to bundle up to go out in the winter. About three minutes into the store I was wandering around with the other teachers whining "I'm hot...it's hot...I'm hot..." until they were about ready to smack me. I imagine that I was a difficult child to dress in cold weather...

When I am sleep deprived…

Last night, I was at church until just after 11pm. Normally, I set up pretty good boundaries about how late I’m out on a school night, but this was the final dress rehearsal before the big weekend of shows, and I knew in advance I’d be out late. I even gave Daisy a reprieve and sent her to the parents to spend the evening cage-free. And since my sister is home from college, and is there to dote on her hand and foot and talk excessive amounts of baby talk to her, she’ll love me that much more when I pick her up today.

But there are consequences of me getting less than my normal 7-8 hours of sleep:
- My eyes shot open this morning, alarmed by the sound. I kept thinking “what’s that noise?!?!” Then I realized it was my alarm. The same alarm I’ve been using for over six months. And yet, I still can’t get used to the sound of it.
-I get into the shower. When I’m sleep deprived, the shower takes on a whole new and existential experience. I ponder things like “what makes conditioner work?” and “I wonder why women ever started shaving their legs…” Very thought-provoking.
- I develop a bit of an, um…attitude. As in, “yeah, I know this shirt is wrinkled and I’ve already spilled coffee on the sleeve. You wanna make something of it?”
- I get random songs stuck in my head. For instance, here it is on a sunny Friday in December, and I have the song “Rainy Days and Mondays” by the Carpenters stuck in my head. Or I should say, the chorus is stuck in my head.
- Just when you'd think that I'd come home and go immediately to bed, I come home, spend excessive time on the computer, and then get struck by inspiration. And stay up even later.

And sleep ridiculously late the next morning...

First Thanksgiving: The Untold Story

Thanks to a page I found on one of my students' desks, we can all finally know how the First Thanksgiving really went down:











I'm not sure what I love more. The fire-breathing turkey? The pilgrims brandishing semi-automatic weapons? The exclamation of "Holy Crud!"? It is a conundrum.

People wonder how I can teach all day and still enjoy spending time with kids. Well, there you have it. And of course, the nap I took from 5:30 - 5:55 helps.


Things that make my world go round:
- I think the above speaks for itself...

Things That Make My World Go Round

A while back I began putting something at the end of each post that was called "reasons." I listed reasons as the things that keep me going through the day. And I strayed away from it, but it's something I still talk about with friends and relations now and then, only I call them things that make my world go round. I read Ally's blog and she puts a p.s. at the end of her posts in which she tells some things that she's grateful for. So I think as we near this time of Thanksgiving I want to resurrect that old habit. So for now, here are...

Things that make my world go round:
- late night emails with a new friend
- the promise of a nap
- a Gator victory
- the grins of a tobbler
- a text from a friend I haven't seen in a while
- the story of an ill-fated trip to McD's in flip flops

Yes... No... To get to the other side... 1.772...

My students are the masters of declarative sentences:
"My pencil broke."
"I'm cold."
I could go on like this for hours. But here's my personal favorite:
"I have a question."
Drives me crazy. So, I pull out Teacher Tool #475 from my arsenal: If they bug you, bug them back. I typically respond with this: "I have an answer. 93." And then they roll their eyes and ask me their real question.

But after watching the new Twilight movie, I have a new answer for them, straight from the movie:
"I have a question."
"I have an answer. Yes...No...To get to the other side...1.772"

They don't get it, but their eye rolls are even bigger as I giggle mercilessly.

I woke up this morning at 8:30 and thinking I did not sleep too much, until I remembered that I went to bed at 6:00pm. Hmmm. And let me add that waking up from 14+ hours of sleep is not an easy process. Especially when I wanted to be somewhere at 9:30, and I'm sitting on my couch at 9:16 watching GameDay and not looking like I'm moving anytime soon. Kirk Herbsreet. I heart you. Thank you for picking my Gators.

They are mine...

I just finished reading The Host, and now that I've wiped the tears from my eyes, and gotten over my pathetic nature in crying over this dumb book, I'm hoping I can get on with my life. Who knows...papers might even get graded! (well, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves...)

Have you noticed the big pretty ball in the sky at night? It's called a FULL MOON, and it's been waxing gibbon for a couple of nights now. That's geek-speak for "the kids are goin' crazy up in this joint!" We've been completely off-schedule for two weeks (and we thrive on schedule), and now the music presentation was tonight and there's the full moon, and we've all been in a tizzy for a good bit of time now!

Right now, I'm laying in my bed, up well past 10pm, and blogging from a computer in my lap as my feet are cozily tucked under the covers, on top of which lies a snoring Shih Tzu. I'm completely exhausted, coming down with a cold, and my brain got mad at me and turned into a fuzzy fog.

But tonight was the magic music performance, and though I had to sit through it a whopping four times, I couldn't be prouder of or more in love with my children. They are my children. They call me mom on occasion, which I love since the closes thing I have to a child calls me "woof". They are split for their music class, so I had half in the first performance and half in the second. All the other fourth grade teachers said I should just pick one performance and go to that one, but how could I choose which one to go to? I love them all equally (stop rolling your eyes), and I would never want one to think I wouldn't come to their performance. I had soloists in both, I could not choose. They drive me absolutely insane (like, wandering-around-the-room-muttering-and-twitching insane), but I love them so much sometimes I can't stand it. And I'm SO PROUD of them I can't tell them enough.

Which leads me to being in my bed, up late, and exhausted. And sniffling. And downing Advil Cold and Sinus and Tylenol Cough and Sore Throat, because they are golden for curing what ails me. And obsessively taking my temperature. I don't get sick often, but when I do...lawsie mercie I'm an awful patient.

I've got a long weekend ahead of me as well, with lots going on and needing to be in four places at once on Friday and Saturday, and giving up seeing Donald Miller who is like a Christian rock star for my friend's birthday. And I've got to get sucked back into Meyer's Twilight in anticipation of the big movie night with the girls on Thursday. And I wish the Salvation Army would call me back and tell me where to be on Thanksgiving. And I have things to write and nights to sleep and I'm a little crazy up in my head because of it.

Did I mention the full moon?

Oh, yeah. P.S. The Christmas season has officially begun. Starbucks has begun using it's red cups, and today I heard the first stirrings of "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells, Robin Laid an Egg..."

I won't tell 'em your name

Long story short: for about two weeks, I've had half my class gone for 1/2 an hour. So the other half and I get to hang out and work on some math and a few other things. This has led to quite a few fun discussions. Today's took the cake:

I walked in on them having a discussion about names from the bible, and then, as the discussion gets a little more intense, I hear this:
"In the name of God I just want everyone to shut the crap up!"
"Our teacher's name is Jennifer you ding dong!"
"Stop saying idiot!" (okay, that one was me)
And someone was working on perfecting his "loser" cough.

Definitely a full moon.

And, I had a guitar lesson tonight, and my fingers are killing me, especially as I type this. But my little guitar teacher that I adore again underestimated me. My guitar was hopelessly out of tune, so he hands me his and takes mine. His is a very nice, expensive-looking, fancy-pants guitar, and I am holding it out in front of me like it may have a bomb inside it. Because I don't like to break things, and I am very prone to breaking things, especially after my medicine has worn off as it clearly has. He says we'll switch, and I can play his. I tell him no, because his is too fancy. As he tries to tune mine, he tells me to take the capo off and play the G string (hee hee...).

And as I take the capo off, you hear a loud crack, and see the pieces crumble in my hand. Yep, I broke it. Snapped it in two. I tell people I tend to break things, but they don't believe me until I'm holding both halves of their capo in my hands...He was a good sport about it, but I still feel pretty guilty, and then the whole lesson we had to play the song four frets lower because I'd broken his capo!

Silver lining: he's teaching me the theme song to Super Mario Brothers. I love it that my guitar teacher is about as random as I am...

Head On Collision

So, I'm pretty surprised about the number of people who were shocked that I stopped for the car accident. Three of them said "yes, but it was...." and "you're a better person than me" I am so surprised, because the thought never crossed my mind not to stop and see if she was okay.

My big-brother Boo (named so for his affinity to scare me by sneaking up on me and screaming "BOO") came into my room today and said "I guess everything turned out alright." When I asked what he meant, he said he saw me on the side of the road yesterday, and even had his blinker on to pull over and see if I needed help, but the cops were there and I wasn't crying so he kept on going. Didn't even know the other teacher was there!

And the real reason I'm writing this: I overheard the teacher involved in the accident talking to students as she passed by my room this morning and telling her students that she was in a head on collision yesterday, and how she almost died. Which explains why she is one of my five least-favorite people in the world...

Oh the day...

Oh the day. I was not looking forward to this morning, simply for the fact that I've been exposed to a lot of political talk in the last few weeks from my fourth graders, and I knew it would come full-force this morning. And it did. By 8:01 I'd thrown down the edict that all political talk would be postponed until lunch or recess. And then, because they are nine, I said it over and over and over.

And then I read my fair share of blogs and spoke with my fair share of people, and I was over it by roughly 8:13. Later this evening, I found this post which pretty much sums up my thoughts on this whole shebang.

The day otherwise went pretty well. Until school got out. My Wednesdays are so packed that if one tiny thing goes haywire, and then I get all backed up. Like after school, when I was driving home, enjoying Eric Hutchinson on the cd and the windows down, and see a wreck in front of me. And it is one of my five least favorite people in the entire world, and I went and gave my heart to Jesus when I was thirteen and that means I can't let even one of the five least favorite people in my world be stuck on the side of the road by herself. So I had to pull over and stay with her until the policeman came and I could leave. Which put me about 20 minutes behind schedule. But my guitar teacher was about 10 minutes late, so I got caught up.

So it turns out that the world will go on and God is in control and while I feel all un-American because I'm not all worked up about the election, and I didn't watch any of the coverage last night, and I went to bed without knowing who the next president would be, and nowadays, that makes me crazy. But just add it to the list.

Pen Pal Letters

Here are a few samples of our pen pal letters, or how the youth of our country are being representated:

(As always, I have not changed the spelling)
Dear Pen Pal,

- "I do Marsl Arts. "
- "I have a dog named Lilly who is extremily cute."
- "If you don't know what softball is I will tell you. It is a sport like baseball but a bigger ball. Plus the ball is yellow and grils play it. I can't wait to read your leader"
- "I love to go dirt biking. Do you guys have dirt bikes?"
- "I have 3 cousins who live in London, England. Do you know where that is?"
- "We love our techer and we have home do you have homework? And we love to talk Miss O hates it so much. The end. PS Please right back Pss I love pie."
- "In my class we have a tv (television). My favorite hobby is collecting modle cars. I am not a nerd."

Wow. Can't wait to see what they write back!

Miscellaneous Monday Thoughts

- I really want to cut my hair off. And by cut it off, I mean shoulder length. Soon. It's driving me crazy.

- My head hurts. It typically does on Mondays.

- Every night I bring home this ginormous (though fashionable...thank you Sherry) bag full of things to do. Of course, now that I have internet access, I don't do any of it.

-I'm so excited that Peace Corps Queen watches True Blood! Finally, I have someone to talk to about this!

- I am being transparent here in my attempt to show what a grown up I am: I made myself a doctor's appointment. Without any stalling or forgetting. I am out of one of my meds, and usually it's not too bad, and I get it refilled when I remember. (What...you people didn't think I was sane did you? Silly rabbits...) I have a few little sad moments, and a tear here and there, but eventually I get around to refilling it and begin to feel better. But the timing of this last ended refill was just right and I had a spectacular meltdown last night. Even as I'm pouring my melodramatic heart into my journal I'm thinking how funny it's going to be when I go back and read these tear-stained pages once I've returned to the land of the rational.

- My doctor moved East, so I have to pick a new one. A friend said the new guy in the practice was good, so I asked for him. This was a smart move. The scheduler asked when I wanted to see him. Tomorrow. What time? sometime after 3. He had a 3, a 3:15, a 3:30, a 3:45, and a 4. And that's just when I stopped her and gave her a time. I like this new doctor thing.

- On a funny note, one of my coworkers (who's 60) said her son (who's 34) is too old to be a groomsman. I told her that she has spoken too soon, because now that she's said that she's totally going to have to be one of my bridesmaids. And since it doesn't look like I'm getting married anytime soon, she's going to be a 70- year old wearing a purple taffeta gown. Because I'm wicked like that!

- Oh man...I found a vintage section of etsy. I am in trouble now.
- I have no idea what I'm wearing to work tomorrow.

Book Fairs and Brittish Pen Pals

I love you bookfair! You are my favorite!!
It is bookfair time of year, and I just love walking around, browsing through all the books, older and newer releases, thinking about which ones my pets will choose. I've been given two gift certificates already, and I have almost spent them both. I finished the Twilight series in August, and the writer of that wrote an adult novel. I'd avoided buying it, because at the time I didn't need to get sucked into another book. But it was at the bookfair, and I had a gift certificate. Of course, it's a sci-fi novel, and my nerd card is about to expire, so it just seemed right to get it. And they didn't have The People of Sparks.

See, the problem with instilling a love of reading and learning in your children is that when you want to buy the next book in the series you're reading, they've already beat you to the local bookstore.

Oh, and the Brittish Pen Pals. My friend the Peace Corps Queen hooked us up with a class of 5th graders in England for a pen pal thing. I'm afraid a few of my children are not going to get to be pen pals, because I do not want them representing our country:
"Do they speak English there?"
"Are they going to be able to read these letters?"

Yep...no pen pals for you.

Boomer

It is 7:24 in the morning and a very large kangaroo just walked by my classroom, escorted by my principal, who introduced the kangaroo as his uncle Boomer.

I just felt someone should be aware of this.


UPDATE: He's the mascot for a new local business...Boomerang Play Land or something of the such. Still a little creepy to see him go walking by my room so early in the morning!

Hot. Sticky. Sweet. From my head. To my feet.

Seriously...my shoes were sticky and my hair had coke in it. And now I have that song stuck in my head.

The first unit of science, regardless of the grade level is about safety and processes, and the scientifizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz........

Sorry. I fell asleep just thinking about it.

It's so boring. So boring that even I hate myself after teaching about it. So I have to do something to keep myself awake, much less the fourth graders. So I work with them going through the scientific process. With really cool stuff. Stuff that "explodes".

Yes, it's the time of year in which I toss a bunch of mentos into a 2 liter of coke and run to get out of the way. Except yesterday, it all went horribly wrong. I found this cool thing at Hobby Lobby that has a pin to keep the mentos out until you're ready. See the exhibit below:



The problem was when I pulled the pin out, it knocked over the coke, and pointed it at the children, and I am NOT going to deal with those emails, so I had to throw myself in front of it and fight the explosion of syruppy goodness to get the bottle upright. It actually led to a really cool picture:



Today, we redid the experiment (because who can resist a second day of mentos-y, coke-y fun) with four different types of sodas. And today, instead of using the expensively useless tube of plastic, I used a test tube and an errant Uno card, and got results that were way better. (Yes, "Way better" is the correct scientific term!)

I give the kids the cameras, because the alternative is to give them coke and mentos, and as I said, I'm not going to deal with those emails. They caught me in a rare moment in which I have no idea what I could have been doing other than saying "It's a bird...it's a plane..."


And they of course came through with the phenomenal pictures. The kids actually got some even better than this, but they all had the kids in them, and I am SO NOT going to deal with those emails!



Yeah, science is totally cool.

Not So Bad After All

Okay, so I was pretty bound and determined not to like fourth grade more than second grade. I wasn't gonna and you couldn't make me.

Well, as in anything, I am proven spectacularly wrong. And actually, I don't necessarily think I like fourth grade more than second grade, just differently. There are still some things that don't change. Like boys falling out of chairs. Apparently, by fourth grade they still haven't learned how to sit in a chair without falling out of it.

But there are some pretty cool things about fourth graders. This week, we're reading a biography of Lou Gehrig, and I was able to find the movie clip from the Pride of the Yankees, and I played them his farewell speech at Yankee Stadium, as given by Gary Cooper. The kids were in awe, and you could hear a pin drop, and it was magical.

And, the humor is still there. Take, for example, this exchange:
me: "Student1, hush"
Student 1 (to those around him): "How did she know it was me?!"
Student 2 (across from him): "Because she's not retarded."

Fourth Grade's not so bad after all.

It's Been A Good Week

But man I'm tired.

Completely tired.

I haven't been up past 9:30 all week, and tonight ain't looking like a late one either.

I have to make two phone calls, and decide what to wear tomorrow, and then I'm headed to bed.

I'm aiming for 7:45, but it will probably be 8:00.

Don't you wish you were the party girl like me?