An Open Letter

Dear Grad Classes,

You can go away anytime now. I'm tired of you and I just want to be done. Remember how we had a great relationship last semester? Well now that you've doubled, I kind of hate you.

Sincerely,
ME
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Dear Self,

Never take two grad classes at once, ever again. I know you think it's a good idea {and, in theory, it is} but it's not practical. Especially in the spring.

This is your warning. Do it again and I'll have to hurt you.

Sincerely,
ME

Keeping my head above water...

Or maybe not.

 

I'm super-slammed at work, super-slammed with grad-classes, and I'm just an all around barrel o' fun {sarcasm}.

 

Two new friends joined the circus, so I'm up to 5. One Kindy friend, one firstie, and three second graders. That's three grade levels. Which is 3x the stress, 3x the work, and 1/3 of the time to do all of my teaching in {because it's split up among three grades}.

 

But.. there is a silver lining. In 16 days I'm leaving for Lake Havasu/Las Vegas. Can I get an Amen?

Indoor Recess...

Indoor recess is always a good time for overhearing snippets of conversation when those kiddos are in their element and think their teacher isn't listening. (Word to the wise, kiddos. I'm actually listening MORE because this is when you normally get into lots of trouble)

 

Lil' Miss Diva: "Who wants to play house with me?!"

 

Lil' Man: "I will. I'll be the dad. What are you going to be?"

 

Lil' Miss Diva: "I'll be the cat!"

 

Lil' Man: "Ugh. I don't want to be the lonely old cat man. That's dumb. Be like a dog. A dog is way more manly."

 

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Lil' Miss Diva: "I'm having trouble with a FRRRRRRRRRRRiend!"

 

Me: "Oh yeah? What's that?"

 

Lil' Miss Diva: "He knocked down my stupid dog house!"

 

Lil' Man: "I saw what happened. I don't think Lil Big Man did it on purpose. I think Lil Big Man, the pretend dog did it. So, really.. it's not a problem with a friend. It's a problem with a make-believe dog."

 

Me: "How can we solve this?"

 

Lil' Man: "Kill the dog?"

 

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Lil' Man: "Wow! You have a weird belly button."

 

Lil Big Man: "It's because I'm husky. Husky means big boned."

Tae Kwon What?

Overheard today...

"I know tae kwon do, so don't even think about messing with me!"

Peer response: "Oh yeah? You know tae kwon do? Well I know tae kwhoop your @$$!"

OMFG TMI

Dears Facebook Users,

I do not care that you just checked in at the gynecologists office. In fact, you've painted a mental image that has been forever burned into my brain. Thanks. I'm seeing you, the gyno, and your legs spread wide open. Guh. Spare me.

I also do not care that your child threw up on you AND you had to change an explosive diaper. Again, the mental images are haunting me.

There is such a thing as Too Much Information (TMI) and you've totally crossed that line. I will never be able to read your status updates without wondering if the diarrhea came out of your pants. Or if the gyno saw anything weird like sparkles or fairies while looking at.. well, you know.

Please stop. Before my brain becomes mush and I realize I can't go a single day without wondering about your intimate secrets.

Thanks,
Your ex facebok friend

Beware the Ides of March...

Omg. March can go away anytime now.

Gah. On top of the ticket for the toll, I also acquired a new kiddo, one more is on the way, I bumped the boys car in freaking downtown Baltimore, and locked myself out of my house.

Thank you blonde hair. Thank you.

HELP!

Okay, Ladies. I need your help. It's a total fashion emergency. We're talking total emergency.

I'm going to Italy this summer and it's going to be warm when we're wandering around, so I'm thinking a few cotton summer dresses. Plus, I'm totally vain. I'm going with a cutie patootie friend and she's going to be rocking the cute dresses.

Disappointment is not.an.option.

So.. where's your go-to for summer dresses? Think inexpensive. I'm working with a teacher's salary. On a budget. You know, to save for that vacation.

Tolls? Psh.. Who Pays 'Em Anyway?

I may or may not have taken a wrong turn on my way back from the city today. Read: Baltimore. Said wrong turn resulted in taking the tunnel, which is, of course, with a fee. A toll. Crap.

Guess who NEVER carries cash? This girl.

See the problem?

At least the people in Baltimore are much nicer than those neighbors to the north, in PA. They totally were like, "Oh it happens all the time. Here's a ticket, call tomorrow and pay with your credit card! Drive safely." as opposed to the jerks in PA who made me pull over, wait for a manager to write up a darn ticket for me and then proceeded to tell me that I had to pay it with a check or money order. Um.. hello? Have you ever heard of plastic?

Yes, this means I've been caught twice without cash at a toll plaza.

Mom mentioned something about having cash in my wallet just in case. Where's the fun in that?

Sorting things Out

We're doing a St. Patrick's Day sorting/graphing activity with Lucky Charms (mom! I thought of you.. your favorite!) and I gave very few directions on how to complete it to let the kids figure out how they wanted to count them out. I'm so surprised to see each of them sorting in a different way.

 

One friend sorted all of them and then counted and recorded. Another friend would pick out one marshmallow kind and count and record. Then another friend went in the order they were listed and counted and sorted.

 

How cool! When we take away our demands, they come up with their own way to do it. None of which were the way I would have done it.

 

Maybe I am teaching them something!

Realization..

I've been a little sad lately. Actually, a lot sad. I kind of thought maybe I was throwing a pity party for myself and trid to tell myself to get over it.

Until I realized (at the doctor, no less..) that my past year or so has been pretty poopy. In 13 months my husband left me, I watched my grandmother die, and my Dad died very suddenly and we were forced to make tough decisions regarding his life. It was one thing after another. And each one occurred just as I thought I was getting over the previous incident.

It's okay for me to be sad. It's okay for me to have a bad day. It's even okay for me to cry. Heck, it's expected. I don't have to be a robot and I don't have to be perfect. I just have to be me. And if I'm sad, I'm allowed to be sad. I have to learn to be okay with my feelings and cut myself a little slack.

So, I'm sad. I'm sad I can't call my dad or get a hug from him. I'm sad I won't be able to watch him with his grandchildren (someday, not now obviously). And I'm really sad that my mom has to go through life without her best friend and her partner. All those things I'm sad about, she's sad about, too.

And that's okay.

We'll get through this, absolutely. And we'll be stronger because of it. But for now, it's okay to be sad.

Breaking News...

This just in.

 

I just had toilet water on my hands. Toilet water from after someone had done their business. Post-business toilet water from someone else.

 

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. (insert tons of sarcasm, of course)

Guest Reader

Me: "Boys and girls, today we will have a special guest reader, Ms. L's friend, Officer K! He's a real, live police officer. Isn't that fun?"

 

Little Man: "Um, you have a friend who is a boy?"

 

Me: "Yes, think of all my friends in school who are boys."

 

Little Man: "But it's different. He's a man. You know what men do."

 

Me:" Uh.. let's talk about something different now. Thanks."

 

And speaking of what men do.. I have a little one who reminds me of Al Bundy (from Married with Children? Anyone remember?). Seriously, this kid picks his nose and flicks boogers all the time in the middle of my freakin' lessons. He burps and toots like it's his job. He fans his toots and shouts things like, "Maaaaaaaan! That one smells horrible!" And today? I caught him picking his behind, with his hands in his pants. Sometimes he sits with his hands in his pants, too. It's like watching a dirty old man.

 

Sweet Jesus, please save me.