A Letter

Dear Mom Volunteering at My School Today,

Thank you for your time and energy in volunteering with our day today. However, a word of advice. Unless a woman has used the phrase "due date," do not ever even suggest the hint that she may look maternityish in any way. It will just take the air out of her day and probably piss her off a little. At least, that's what happened today when you said that my dress was cute and you wish they had cute clothes like that when you were pregnant.

Not everyone will be as gracious as I was. Or deflated.

Yours truly,
The Teacher Who Is Not Pregnant, But Will Be Burning Her New Dress Shortly and Never Eating Again

I Couldn't Make This Up- Part Two

In my classroom, when we take tests, which is usually on Fridays, they turn their test in to me, and they must sit, without speaking. They can read and/or draw at their desks, but they are not to move around, and not to talk to their neighbors. This often leads to come rather creative uses of time. Today was one of those:

me: "Honey, are you okay? You're making a kind of frowning face."
kid: "Yes, I'm fine. I am just trying to roll my eyes all the way around and see what my brain looks like."
me: "okay. let me know if it works."

Couldn't make it up if I tried.

Today is September 11

Today is September 11th. It’s Haley’s birthday, and Angela’s birthday, and Ludacris’ birthday.

8:46- a moment of silence. My kids don’t know why we’re having it. I tell them to be silent and we will talk about it when we’re done. After it’s over, I finish my sentence about math, and then we talk about it.

I tell them that I get to talk first, and then I’ll answer questions. I think about how I am going to tell them about what happened. How am I going to explain terrorism? How am I going to explain badness to a group of children who don’t understand being mean?

As with everything, I try to be transparent. I start by explaining that even though I have two college degrees and I am 30 years old, I still don’t understand what happened, but I’ll do my best to explain to them the parts that I do understand. We talk about when we don’t agree with someone. We have two choices. We don’t play with them, or we set out to hurt them. This group of people, they don’t like America. And they chose the hurt way.

I go over the basics. They took over planes. They crashed them into buildings. They wanted to crash one into the White House, but the people on the plane said no, so they took over and crashed it into a field. We looked at a map. Then, they get to ask questions.

Were people hurt? Yes. A lot of people.
Did people die? Yes. Almost 3000.
How did they take over the plane? I don’t know.
Why did it happen? I don’t know, baby…I don’t know.
Who were the people? They were people from another country. (I hesitated to tell them who, because second graders struggle with black, white, and grey. Good or bad. They are still working on understanding the in between. Aren’t we all?)

I tell them a few brief stories. I tell them it was my first year here, and I remember who was sitting in my classroom when it all happened, and how all of the teachers spent every spare moment in the lounge watching the TV. I mention that I had a friend that was studying at a college just down the road from the towers, and how I kept emailing back and forth with him as much as I could. I leave out the part that we were supposed to be married, and if we had been, I would have been on the island when the planes hit, probably teaching at a school a few blocks down from the towers. I also leave out the part that my mother’s business trip was moved up a day, and she was in an airplane when the attacks happened, and she got stuck in St. Louis, and she couldn’t figure out how to get home, and when I talked to her it was the most upset I’ve ever heard her.

If you want to really get the gravity of this situation, try explaining it to seven-year-olds. You get the gravity of it yourself.

Dontcha Wish Your FB Player Was Hot Like Mine?

So, they always send us an email asking if we want a local high school fb player to come to our class once a week just to hang with the kids or anything like that. I didn't reply, because I had a good one one year, and a bad one one year. But apparently, nobody else responded, so our secretary came down to our rooms at about 7:30 this morning and said she had a room full of 10 players and we were getting one.

The players came down to our hall and the three of them stood in front of us and we stood in front of them, and the secretary said pick. So, my player picked me because I was the only one not wearing pink, which is funny, because I am usually the one wearing the pink. I said "Welcome to Crazy, population 23."

He came in and watched the kids come in and gawk at him, and I let him introduce himself. It went a little something like this:

FB player: "Hi, I'm Football Player"
boy (trying to be funny): You're hot.
FB player (without missing a beat): Yeah, I get that a lot.
entire class (including teacher): giggle giggle giggle...

Yeah, he's gonna slide right into my room...
Other funny moment...he's introducing himself, telling what position he plays, and asks if anybody in the class plays football. Four kids raise their hands:

kid 1: "center"
FB: "cool...and you"
kid 2: "right guard"
FB: "cool...and you"
kid 3: "hockey"
FB: "ok."

He'll fit right in.

They're Always After Me Lucky Charms!

Today, I introduced my new class to Nickel Creek. This is my favorite musical group, and the first song on the CD is a beautiful combination of instruments, including a guitar, fiddle, and mandolin, among others.


One of my kiddos says "Hey...this is like leprechaun music!" Yeah...I'm gonna like this bunch. I forget that they don't know me like my princes and princesses did. One of them came in during my planning time and found me singing along to "When You Come Back Down." Judging by the look on her face, she was a little weirded out. So was the rest of the class today, when I tripped over my chair and knocked it and everything on my overhead cart off. They'll get used to their teacher, and I'll get used to them.


I'm out of my disgruntled funk. I've found that often, when I feel out of sorts, one remedy is to create something. I finally found the table and chairs I have been looking for...a beautiful antique piece with hideous toucan print on the chairs. So, yesterday, with the help of my mom, I recovered them. The picture on the left is definitely the before:





Between that and my little ones...I'm feeling much better...much more myself.

By-the-by, Nickel Creek's last concert before they break up (sob sob) is in November at the House of Blues. I am SO there. In fact, I'm so SO there that I had to stop this post and get tickets. The good seats are already sold out, but the cheap seats were available. I'm so excited, November can't get here fast enough. Maybe I'll take my dad. Maybe I'll take someone else. Anyone interested?

"This is Crazy Talk!"

One week down. And it was good.

I'm not sure what to call my kids. Last year's group was my princes and princesses. This group is different. Good different, but still, different. I'm in love with them and I'm attached to them, and they're as quirky as it gets, but I'm just not sure what to call them. I guess it will come in time. Speaking of wild and precious, though...that they certainly are.

I have a three-day weekend, and Gator football starts tomorrow, and I go back to church on Sunday, and all-in-all, life is good. On Monday, I'm going to do what I've been neglecting for quite some time. I'm goin' to Starbucks with my book, my journal, and my iPod and I am going to just be. It will be lovely.

Oh, and the title of this post. That's my very first quote from the classroom, from the quirkiest of them all.

The Wild Rumpus

Today was the first day of school.
It was good.
My kids, some are crazy, most are not.
We've got a long way to go, but it was good.

I let Little Caesar's do the cooking for me tonight, and I will be watching The Office Season 2 as a treat.

All in all, good.

Fall is Here...Ring the Bell

School starts Monday.
Busy busy busy
Chicken with head cut off busy.
Speaking incoherent sentences busy.
Passing out upon hitting pillow busy.

But they're coming on Monday morning.
And I've met them, and they're cute. Very, very cute.
And they're mine. For 180+ days, they're mine.

"And now," said Max, "let the wild rumpus start!"

Miscellaneous

I have taught school for seven years. Including my first year of teaching, I have moved into seven times. Yes, I have moved every year I have taught. Every year. I am moving again this year. Now, mind you, I have taught at my current school for six years. So, every time I move, it's just to another place in the building. So, now, I'm moving from the portable (trailer) back to the mainland. The problem with (all of) these moves is that no one's breathing down my neck to get out of the room. So, I basically have boxes of crap strewn amongst several rooms of the school. Because, I get all of the big stuff in the new room, and all that's left is the miscellaneous. I put that in red because it's a bad, bad word. It's all the crap that I didn't really have a place for in the first place, and now have no place for in the second (or seventh) place. So that's what's left to move, and lemme tellya there's nothing that can kick a girl's ADHD in like miscellaneous crap.
There's no real point to this. Other than I hate miscellaneous crap.

Other miscellaneous thoughts:
- I'd forgotten how funny the movie So I Married an Axe Murderer was!
- The gym is pretty empty on a Friday afternoon.
- I read this and this and thought they were very funny.
- My newest project is giving me wickedly miscellaneous dreams. They make no sense whatsoever.
- I have seen so many commercials for and sneek peeks of Evan Almighty that I may not want to see it anymore. But I DO want to see License to Wed. The minute it comes out. The. Minute. The. Very. Minute.
- I do not do well with time on my hands...

It's About Time!

This will finally have some pictures in it!
Congratulations Stephanie (and Kyle, too, I guess)!
Seventeen days late, but she's here and she's perfect!
O Happy Day!

Thursday Thirteen #3- Two-fer

What? Yes, I know today's not Thursday. It's Friday. But, my blog, my rules. Yesterday was the last day of school, and I was thinking about sending my princes and princesses on their merry ways, and what I know about them and what they know about me. And then I found this quote, from a book I loved called The Little Prince:

"Grown-ups like numbers. When you tell them about a new friend, they never ask questions about what really matters. They never ask: “What does his voice sound like?” “What games does he like best?” “Does he collect butterflies?”. They ask: “How old is he?” “How many brothers does he have?” “How much does he weigh?” “How much money does his father make?” Only then do they think they know him. "

Thirteen things I know about my students:

1. the sound of each of their voices- I could be blindfolded and know who was speaking to me

2. who they like to stand in line next to

3. what kind of books they like to read, or if they don't like to read

4. what games they will play if they are given free time to play games

5. what part of the playground they like to play on, and with whom

6. what kind of mood they are in when they walk through the door

7. who is whistling, tapping, or rocking back in forth in their chair- without looking

8. not only what their handwriting looks like, but also how they form their numbers- just because the paper doesn't have a name on it doesn't mean I don't know whose it is

9. who their brother and sister has for a teacher, and where their dad has gone out of town for a business meeting

10. the names and types of their pets, friends, and enemies

11. what makes them smile, laugh, and cry

12. what they want to be when they grow up

13. that I am in charge of loving them and teaching them, even if it kills me

Thirteen things they know about me:

1. that I will not wear a skirt if it comes above my knees

2. that I love to sit outside and read

3. that Read Aloud is my favorite part of the day, and will let it go on if I'm in the good part of a book

4. that I have "favorite chapters" of the books I read to them

5. that in their mind, I know the name of almost every kid in the whole school

6. that I love to play practical jokes on the principal, and vice versa

7. that, even though I have a schedule on the board, I'm probably not going to stick to it minute-by-minute

8. that I prefer to sit on the floor or the table instead of a chair

9. that I like pink and orange and blue and the Gators

10. that I won't help them unless they try it on their own first

11. that I am proud of them for trying it on their own

12. that we're all in this together, even though they're not technically "my students" anymore

13. that they will always be my students

I am going to miss them very much.

Pirate's Booty

So, today I did my part to make sure I will have

a pleasant working relationship with my boss in the upcoming year.

He walked into his office today to find this:

There was a note that looked like this:

Which led him to another note that looked like this:

Which led him to another note that said this:

Which led him to the classroom that held this:

Which was a treasure chest that, when opened, looked like this:

And had a card that looked like this:

Definitely one of my favorite projects!

By the way: this post, with this many pictures, was a WHIPPIN' to publish!

Aarg!

Okay, I'm working on this "creative project" if you will at school, involving pirates and treasure and sending my boss-man on a scavenger hunt around the school. I'm trying to figure out the clues and such, and really just how to ask an appropriate question in pirate-ese, and I came upon a little quiz that I couldn't resist. So, without further ado...

My pirate name is:

Mad Jenny Rackham

part of the fidius.org network

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

I'm off to work on me scavenger hunt...

Ancient

Why I haven't left the classroom to pursue an Administrative job:

Setting: our afternoon bathroom break, in which there was quite a stinky situation in the boys bathroom

Prince12: "Miss O, what's the worst thing you've ever smelled?"
me: "I don't know"

as I'm walking away, I hear...
Princess14: "She can't answer because she's smelled a lot of things...she is thirty."

Marathon

No, I'm not running in one. Who do you think I am? My motto: run when chased. I'm talking about the tv marathon. You know...those things that just SUCK you into spending an entire day doing nothing but laying in bed and watching someone else's life unfold before your very eyes.

Typically, I get sucked into these, especially on days like today, where there's a soft drizzle painting everything gray. But, in a moment of sheer willpower, I got up and got something done! I actually got several somethings done. And it's made up for the initial two hours of the day that were spent in front of the television.

The point of this post is that, should you need your oil changed, or any other random maintenance done on your car, you must must go to the Kwik Kar place on 407. They are good people. Everytime I go there, I leave feeling good about patronizing their business. Today, they sort of made an error, and gave me the service free because of it! I couldn't believe it. It makes me feel good about humanity when things like this happen!

The other thing I got accomplished today was placing a very special online order. The end of the school year is approaching, and though we don't all typically get the boss an end-of-the-year gift, my team has decided to buck tradition and get him something for all of the fun the last few weeks have been in the prank-playing department. So he'll be getting a gift basket. Not just any after-shave-filled mound of froufiness, though. He will be getting a basket filled with: a hand buzzer, a hoopie cushion, a rubber pencil, cockroach candy, belch powder, a squirt flower, a snot nose, a pierced finger, a nail through the finger, one dozen fake cockroaches, a disappearing ink pen, pet puke, dog doo, a dribble glass, and last, but certainly not least, a package of stink bombs.

Hey...I know the secret to job security.

Now, on the off chance that the supervisor of Kwik Kar doesn't read my blog, I'm off to write a very complimentary letter.

Job Security

So, today we got ahold of our principal's cell phone number. From 1pm to 1:30 pm, we called and hung up approximately 34 times. After a while, he just let it go to voicemail. During our planning time, we called and left Lisa's cell phone ring as the voicemail. "What goes around goes around goes around comes back around..." He borrowed the cell phones of the secretaries, the nurse, and a few other various individuals to call their cell phones.

The best of all was when we walked by his office, and there, on his desk, was his cell phone. I ran in and stole it, and then we proceded to use it to call all of the phones that he called us from. Childish, yes. Fun, hell yes.

After yet another covert operation, we returned the phone. Unfortunately, one of the other mafia members inadvertantly ratted us out, but the principal complemented us and actually thanked me over the loud speaker for "returning something I found and being honest". My kids went nuts.

Anyway, it's probably boring to you readers, but it definitely made for an amusing day!

The Mafia and the Principal

Two things to preface my current situation with:
1. The group of girls I work with is very close. We are all very different, but we are all like-minded and we have each others' backs. We are also pretty much involved in many aspects of the school, and humorously refer to ourselves as the Second Grade Mafia. We offer our protection to two of the first grade teachers.

2. My principal is a prankster. If you can't get the bathroom door open when you are finished, chances are he's on the other side. On Halloween, he runs around the school in a mask, and usually picks a random day in September and declares it "Talk Like a Pirate Day." When I went to the restroom last week, there was a rubber snake in the bathroom. He pretended he had hip replacement surgery yesterday before our volleyball game and rode around for an hour in a wheelchair.

The Second Grade Mafia (SGM) has been looking for a way to get back at el jefe for quite some time now. We haven't thought of an original prank, but instead are opting to borrow one from the masters...the writers of The Office. Since we don't have a vending machine to stock his stuff with, we're resorting to the cell phone in the ceiling tiles. Only it didn't go as planned. He didn't just leave his cell phone on his desk, but his workout clothes and shoes. They all disappeared, only to resurface about an hour later.

According to the grapevine, he thinks the Mafia had something to do with it, but he's not sure. Maybe that's why he visited the second grade hallway over five different times today, and made a special trip to our lunch and our recess. He's trying to weed it out of us, and he's trying to figure out how to get back at us.

Game on, brutha...game on.