Thursday, July 8, 2010


A good friend of mine has recently started running.  She has made a lot of progress in a short amount of time and I'm really proud of her!  On several of our morning meetings at a local track, she has talked about a Boot Camp exercise class that she has participated in.  
Being a glutton for punishment up for a challenge, I decided I’d join her to see what this class was all about.  Besides, I need to work on something besides obsessively running.
I picked out my clothes and set my alarm for 4:45 a.m. so I could be at the gym in time for the 5:15 a.m. class.  And this is grounds for commitment to an insane asylum because I’m on my summer break.
As usual, I woke up way before the alarm.
After arriving at the gym (and signing all the paperwork to try out the gym as a guest), we headed down to the gallows gym only to be informed that the teacher had a sick child and the class was cancelled. 
Well, pfffshht!
So, we tried a quick round of basketball.  It was brutal reminder of why I was the team benchwarmer.
I think I’ll have Nutella for breakfast now.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

How can I start a new project when I currently have 47 projects going on?

Earlier this week, I received a Kindle (for those of you who don’t know, a Kindle is a small electronic device that can hold thousands of books and magazines in it [or is it on it] and you really should get out more often) and I promptly paid to download five books and then downloaded 15 additional free books.
In my pre-Kindle days, I had a book by the bed, a book by my chair in the den, a book on my desk at work, and a book in my bag that I gave a ride from work to home and back again each day.  I can read all these books and not get them confused.  This is not to impress you but just a feeble attempt to explain how my sick little twisted mind works.
Now I have currently have 20 books at my fingertips and I am like a crack addict working up a good fix.  So far, I’ve read a chapter of Sherlock Holmes, two pages of Anna Karenina, a passage or two of Frankenstein, four chapters of Born to Run, six recipes in Not Your Mother’s Slow Cooker Recipes, almost the first chapter of The Happiness Project, and the first two chapters of Unclutter Your Life in One Week.  My hand shakes as I convince myself not to open up another book.
Last night, I woke up during the night wondering where the heck I last stored the slow cooker, pondering how I could go about arranging my own happiness project, worrying if I purged enough from my closet yesterday after being inspired to rid my life of clutter, contemplating taking a run without shoes (not really) and thinking about ways I can convince my husband that we must have a pet praying mantis (that last one is random and actually wasn’t an idea presented in any of the books).
Today, I’ve pledged to only read from one book on the Kindle and I’m struggling with which one.  My head feels like it could explode.  I don’t understand why this many choices gets to me because I have far more options on my book shelf.  Is it because I am inherently lazy and once there is a book in my hand, I am not so inspired to get up and look for another?  Is there something hypnotic about turning the pages of an actual book?
It is possible I’ll need an intervention…

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Has it really been that long?

My last post was over a month ago. Apparently, I'm an all or nothing kind of girl when it comes to blogging here. I've still been taking posting a picture a day over on the other blog ( but I've all but turned my back on this blog.

Is it over between us? And by us, I mean this blog and me.

I still have a lot of ideas that swirl in my head keeping me awake at night.

I think I just needed to simplify my life. The month of May was an emotional one: both boys turned a year older (and is it really possible for me to be the mother of a 20 year old and an 18 year old?); we had tile taken up and tile put down in our den and kitchen; my oldest son moved out; my youngest son graduated from high school; it was another typical can't catch your breath end of the school year; some jobs were lost...

Still, I miss this place. I miss my friends.

Now would be a good time for me to learn some moderation. When it comes to blogging, that is.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Let’s just play in the dirt again

As I peeked into the quiet room, I gazed upon the sleeping boy. The slight snore from the persistent allergies signaled that deep sleep – the kind of sleep where dreams of animals talking and people visiting from other worlds comes.
How I wanted to curl him up into my arms and snuggle one more time in the rocking chair, tucking my nose into that place on his neck where the sweet smell of boyhood lingers.
Except that boy is now a man.
“Turning twenty kind of sucks,” he told me earlier this week. “It sounds old and yet you are still too young to legally drink away your sorrows.”
I didn’t focus on his use of that word “legally.” He is, after all, an independent college student who is “legally” of age to die for his county.
How can it be that twenty years has passed since his grand entrance into the world? It seems like just the other day he was clamoring for a bottle, climbing onto furniture, begging to play outside, sneaking into the bed in the middle of the night.
The hardest part about becoming a mother is being needed so much.
Ironically, the hardest part about watching your child turn into an adult is not being needed.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Happy! The past twenty years have been the best twenty years of my life.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010


Excitement.  Amazement.  Overwhelmed.  Anxiety.
These are just a few of the emotions I’ve entertained this past week since we found out my son got accepted into an Ivy League school. 
When he first mentioned his desire to apply, I encouraged him.  What was I thinking?!  We don’t live any where near these schools!  While I knew he was bright and motivated, I knew it would be hard for him to get in.  In fact, I really didn’t think it would happen.  Prior to this week, we were working to decide between a couple of schools in Georgia where we live, for crying out loud
Of the five Ivy Leagues he applied to, he was wait listed for two, turned down for two, and accepted to one.
Now that one school has become the one.
Suddenly, I’m having to pull my head out of the sand making flight and hotel arrangements to some city I’ve never visited.  Heck, I haven’t even been to that state.
Now that the reality is settling in, I’ve been grappling with nearness of my impending empty nest.  Tears fighting for a chance to surface and a heaviness in my chest are ever present.
I’m not looking for pity.  Being accepted to an Ivy League school is the kind of stuff dreams are made of.  I’m proud of my son and I’m proud of myself for encouraging him to do his best.  Being a single mother wasn’t easy and I worried that I didn’t or couldn’t do enough.  Looking back, I think his independence thrived as a result.  So, hover mothers, write that lesson down for the books.
So, how did this happen so fast?  Is he going to be okay so far away from me?
As I gazed up to the sky, I noticed a young hawk coasting on the breeze.  Not far behind him was a larger hawk, presumably his mother. 
Like that hawk, I know the truth.  He is ready to fly.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Reason 134 Why I Love My Secretaries

Not only do these ladies protect me from intimidating parents make me look good, they have an awesome sense of humor.
Phone Message to Overwhelmed 5th Grade Teacher: “Please call Mr. Lyon.  Your name has been drawn for a prize. 555-555-5555.”
Overwhelmed 5th Grade Teacher: “Is this Jim who called me?  I know Jim Lyon but I don’t recognize this number.”
Secretary #1: “It might be.  Give him a call.  We want to hear what you won!”
Overwhelmed 5th Grade Teacher picks up the phone and dials.
Person on the other end of the phone: “Atlanta Zoo.”
Overwhelmed 5th Grade Teacher with a confused look on her face: “May I speak with Mr. Lyon?”
Person on the other end of the phone (who is probably not amused): [Insert Uncomfortable Pause] “Ma’am.  It is April Fool’s Day.  I think somebody is playing a joke on you.”
The entire office erupted into laughter.
And it appeared that the 5th grade teacher was slightly less overwhelmed when she walked back to her classroom.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

When one door closes…

On one hand, I love spring.  After winter’s harsh weather, the warm breezes and the blooming trees and shrubs breathe new life into me.
On the other hand, spring is the season where I wait to hear from the Superintendent’s office as to how many teaching positions my school earns and how many teachers will be moved.  This year is especially tense as the Superintendent has announced that due to budget restraints, positions will be cut. 
Moving teachers to different schools suddenly looks like the good old days.
I’ve never seen education have to face the cuts it is currently facing.  And the governor hasn’t quit cutting.  Nor does he seem to have his priorities in order.
The other day, I had to tell a sweet but ineffective teacher that she wouldn’t have a job next year.  I came home and cried.  While there isn’t room in the classroom for ineffectiveness, it breaks my heart to be the one to shut a door.
But when one door closes, another one opens, right?
I’ve got to believe that everything is going to be okay.  I’ve got to hang on to that thought that one bad event can open a door to a new and better opportunity.
I’ve got to believe that every thing does happen for a reason. 

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

If I were king of the world, I’d make Tuesday happen a couple of times a week

randomtuesday It is Tuesday, right? The day in the blog world known for randomness, eh?
All is well in our world. Thanks for all the comments and emails. We are slowly getting back to normal. Well, normal as defined by us.
I got a speeding ticket from the nicest cop this morning. At 4:45 a.m. I was on my way back from the gym when he clocked me going 68 in a 45 mph zone (it was a 4 lane highway with absolutely no traffic… relax). I’m sure I was looking lovely with my sweaty self. I begged asked for a warning but he pointed out his supervisor in the other cop car. At least he knocked the speed down a bit so I wouldn’t get hit with the hefty fines associated with the super speeder law in Georgia. On average, I get one speeding ticket a decade. Typically, I drive like an old lady. And by old lady, obviously, I mean my grandmother. She is one of the original speed racers.
Speaking of driving, why is it so difficult for some folks to figure out how to use turn signals. And there needs to be a course on the purpose and use of the turn lane. Personally, if I were a cop, I’d focus on those folks for my ticketing fix.
Life at school has been hell hectic. The superintendent announced that jobs would be lost then decided to keep it a secret wait until after the state test to tell the pink-slipped folks and their principal. Enough already. Just let us know. The not knowing is causing typically kind people to start tattling and making stabbing behind back motions all kinds of anxiety. It hasn’t been pretty.
I’ve been thinking about ordering a few of these awesome bottle openers. If they were painted gold, they could make some awesome awards for some real winners out there.
Spring in Georgia is awesome. While it is still cold in the mornings and evenings, I have decided that I am done with winter clothes. I’ve pulled out the spring skirts and dresses. Let’s just say that I am embracing my whiteness.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Suddenly silent

It is never good news when the phone rings in the wee hours of the morning piercing the subconscious, wringing the soul in preparation for the changes to follow.
“I’ve got bad news.”
My husband’s mother has been failing in health over the past years.  A little over a year ago, we moved her into a full-care, assisted living arrangement.  From there, the decline has been like a free-fall.
Each visit, each phone call brought us closer and closer to the inevitable.
“At least, in the end, she knew who we were.”
Memory is a funny thing.  When it fails you, it can keep you in a grand, make-believe world where life is happy and good.  Her reality may have been a fantasy, but at least in her mind, she was happy and content.
“If she’d known she was in the state she was in, she’d have wanted to pass years ago.”
Over the years, I prayed for her comfort and I prayed for her to pass quietly in her sleep.  For several years, she had let go of her role as a mother.  A child-like replica stood in her place.
We will miss you, Mom.  We already have.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Redefining Normal


Last weekend was an amazing weekend. Running (mostly) the half marathon is something that has changed me (sorry to sound superficial). A year ago, I couldn’t run for two three five minutes. When I signed up to the Disney Princess Half Marathon, I didn’t realize how much work and commitment I’d have to put into making that goal a reality.

But I did it!

Plus, I got to meet some amazing people. I’m already planning to sign up for next year’s run.

The morning of the race, I got out of bed before the alarm went rang out. I hadn’t slept much and my stomach was in knots.

Nerves? Why now? I wasn’t aiming to compete against any hard core athletes. I just wanted to finish the 13.1 miles in a somewhat decent time.

I tried to eat breakfast but it just wouldn’t go down. So, I got dressed and went on down to the lobby to meet Krystyn and get on the bus to the line up. It took 20 minutes to find my friend, Page (which is a real miracle as we had no cell phones and it was crowded).

It was COLD. The number of people were incomprehensible. There were thousands and thousands of women there. Thousands willing to get up at two something to go stand in the cold so they could run 13.1 miles.

My muscles began to tense and ache while standing in the cold. Still, the excitement warmed my heart. Finally, the last corral was walked to the start line and we were off… running and cheering each other on.

All in all, things went well during the run. Except that my back and side began hurting. And I started getting winded.

“Obviously, I need to focus on more hills in my training,” I thought. Little did I know.

The entertainment was top-notch and inspired me to keep plugging along though I think someone was out to do us in with those awful gel packets because you can’t spit that crap out!

I was never so excited to see a finish line in my life!

My husband and I spent the day with Page and her husband in Epcot. You could say we ate and drank our way around the world.

By the end of the night, I was hacking and barking the most awful cough. In a fevered haze, I knew I was going down with a real kicker.

Three doctor visits and 9 medicines later, I am happy to announce I’M ALIVE (even if I still have a little bit of a barky cough)!

In a few more days, I’ll be ready to lace up those running shoes, again. For so long, I’ve been trying to feel like a runner. I think I’m almost there.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Faking a snake bite and other bad ideas


I work in an elementary school. It is what I do for giggles and craps. And there are many, many lessons to be learned each day.

  1. Don’t use a sharp instrument to make fang marks on your leg then scare the school nurse by claiming the injury to be a snake bite.
  2. If you really do want to go with the snake bite routine, be sure to do some research. A bite with fang marks one inch apart could not have been inflicted by a 6 inch snake. And “I don’t remember” isn’t a good answer to what color was the little, tiny snake when it slithered away.
  3. Don’t try to fool medical professionals in a Oscar-worthy showdown to get out of school for a few days. The IV and blood work alone make this a bad idea.
  4. Don’t bypass the office when at your child’s school and then yell and intimidate your child’s teacher in the hallway in front of other children and adults.
  5. After receiving the letter that bans you from your child’s school, don’t call and harass the principal.
  6. Don’t kick the teacher after being told to get your hands off your neighbor’s snack.
  7. Don’t scream “shut the f- up” in the lunchroom when the last ‘your momma’ joke pisses you off.
  8. Don’t call the principal and tell her that your child has a right to be upset and that sometimes a bad word “just slips out.”
  9. Don’t complain about a fellow teacher not having patience with a child then turn around and expect someone to feel sorry for you because of *this* particular child. Patience is patience. Grow some.
  10. Students should not hand out their *special* vitamin to other students.

For the record, they didn’t teach any of this when I was in college.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I’m thinking about joining the circus

randomtuesday Possibly I’d have a bit more time for myself.  Besides, I seem to already spend a lot of time with clowns.


We (and by we, I mean me) finally finished filling out all the FAFSA and financial aid paperwork and now I’m a little discouraged.  If all of these *smart* people at these big universities need me to repeat myself and fax copies of information they already have on file, why should I trust them to educate my child? 


My first half marathon is in 5 days!  I’m so excited I could pee myself!  Here is a picture of the design that is being painted on my t-shirt.

IMG_9116It says, “Cinderella ~ proof that a new pair of shoes can change your life!”  I’m not often a pink girl but I found these fabulous black knee socks with pink polka-dots…  And I had to get them!


My parents are going to Disney for my half marathon and for some reason, that just cracks me up.  When I was on the basketball team in 8th grade, my mother didn’t go to any of the games.  Though she would have seen that I had mad bench warming skills.


I am attempting to take a picture every day for 365 days.  So far, there are too many that are a half-a$$ed attempts so good.  You can see my progress here.


I can’t wait to get to school today so I can hear about the kid with the snake bite.  He was bitten on Sunday but didn’t tell his parents.  Once he got to school, he stopped by the office to have the school nurse take a look.  She freaked calmly called his parents to take him to the doctor ASAP!  More on that developing story later.

Happy Tuesday!

Monday, February 22, 2010

Mother knows best

telephone Several months ago, my mother called me.

Mom: “I’ve ordered something for you and Mr. Strong.  You are going to LOVE it.”

Me: “Cool.  What is it?”

Mom: “It’s a magic bullet.”  OMG!  Why would she do this?  We barely even talked about the birds and the bees when I was growing up… It was more comfortable to ask my friend’s mother to help me buy the monthly necessities.

Me: “Uh… Mom?  Why?”  What do I say?  This is so embarrassing! 

Mom: “Because I knew you’d love it.  And it has all kinds of attachments.”  Holy carp!  I can’t stand the visual of my puritanical mother shopping in one of *those* stores…and attachments?!  What the heck?

Me: “I’m not sure we need one.”  Really, I can’t accept a gift like this from my MOTHER.

Mom: “Your step-dad loves when I get this out because he knows he is getting a treat.”  Agh!  Lalalalalalalalala…

A couple of days later, the mailman brought my new surprise.

magic bullet 

For some strange reason, I blush every time I make a smoothie.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

And then he played a harmonica


Funny how a funeral can make you think of your own mortality. Though I was a little jealous of the guy in the casket because he got the only warm spot at this graveside funeral. And he didn’t have to smile and nod as the preacher played a little number on the harmonica. 

There are a few things I’d like to happen when I die.  First, I’d like for someone to just throw away everything in my underwear drawer.  There is nothing in there that needs to be saved.  In my dreams, my funeral would involve a huge toilet bowl so that I could be flushed to that great river in the sky.  All the fish I’ve flushed over the years have made that journey look like a day at the park.  The water park, to be exact.

Since I don’t trust my children to find the right toilet (and it would be embarrassing if my hips got stuck on that final bend before heading out to sea), I’m probably just going to have to settle for a lively cremation.  That way, I won’t have to worry about what clothes the family picks out for me after my demise.  This is a good thing since the vast majority of my family looks like rejects from the lost files of “What Not to Wear.”

Then, at the ceremony, someone could play a little jingle on the harmonica right before the big flush. 


I’m not planning on pushing up daisies any time soon. And I’m not trying to make fun of death (or maybe I am… but not in a rude way… but in that way that says, “I’m not afraid of you, Grim Reaper!”… except I really am a little afraid of him because not being able to see his face creeps me out).  I am merely writing down some of the random thoughts that played through my sick twisted mind at the funeral for an older gentleman earlier today.  Seriously, I hope that when I do die (a LONG time from now is my plan) that people will take the time to remember the good times and to laugh.  That would be the biggest honor.

Saturday, February 13, 2010


IMG_8462 Before I screwed up and moved into administration, I used to teach middle school children with behavior disorders. This experience gave me a lot of tools to use when dealing with adults. Regardless of the oxymoron (because aren’t all middle schoolers behavior disordered to a certain degree?), there were some great stories that came from those years in the classroom.

Charlie (not his real name, dooh!) was a beautiful boy with blond hair and blue eyes and the mouth of a sailor. His mouth got him in trouble, outside my classroom, on a regular basis though, truly, I agreed with most of what he had to say. There were many failed attempts to teach him to other ways to express his ideas. He just needed to cuss.

In a moment of desperation, I asked him to write his feelings down in a notebook when feeling his rage was working up to a blaspheme-fest, then tear up the page because if he still had evidence of potty mouth, there were still too many teachers ready to take him out back and shoot him.

One day, as I was conferencing with a parent about their child’s progress, Charlie came charging into the classroom slamming the door into it’s frame. The parents had a look of fear on their face. I tried to ignore Charlie and carry on with the meeting.

Charlie ran to his desk and grabbed his *special* notebook. I tried not to smile and continued talking with the parents. Their furtive glances over their shoulder at the mad boy frantically scribbling in his notebook made it even harder for me not to laugh. I redirected the parents back to their son and our concerns.

Suddenly, Charlie ripped out several pages from his notebook and began shredding them over the trash can, then ran right back out of the room.

I finished the conference with a huge smile on my face.

I never knew what made him so mad (and I really didn’t care as it was usually something minor). At least on that day, Charlie was a success.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Trying to communicate

Clumps of raw emotion

Stories that can’t be told

Mind numbing self-preservation

Calls to my husband,“Just cheer me up.  I can’t talk about what is going on today.”

Dreams… expectations… disappointments

Trying to understand the real message screaming to be heard between the lines

Meetings with children services




I wish I could take them home.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Say what?

Things overheard so far this week that have made me smile…
“You always help a lady up off the ground.” Said by a first grader after a student ran into a teacher and knocked her down.
“There are better ways to communicate.  The growling will stop.”  Said by a teacher when two first graders both wanted the last swing available.
“Really, boogers probably aren’t protein.  I don’t care what your mother told you.” Said by a 3rd grader after a fellow student grossed out his table in the lunchroom.
“Come on!  Ms. Teacher just told us to sit on the ass fart.”  Said by a Kindergartener when they were getting ready for an activity outside and had to sit on the asphalt drive.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Waving the white flag

white flag While I fully recognize there is a full moon out there, I’m not afraid.  After the rollercoaster that has been this past week, there isn’t much more ground to cover.  Besides, I’m a little numb inside.

With my assistant principal out for three days, I’ve run the ship alone.  With so many events crammed into each day, my response to Mr. Strong’s question of what happened today has been a succinct “nothing.”

Actually, there are approximately 42 stories for me to tell you since we last spoke though I’m still grappling with finding a humorous view.  At least a lice outbreak is funny, right? But where is the humor when a parent hurts a child and DFACS removes children from the home.  And I’m not laughing at all at the irate parent who secretly recorded a meeting we had and is now threatening to sue because we are “picking” on her child.  Though I probably should be laughing at the parent who won’t work on sight words with her child but will stop and spend time to write a scathing email to me about the kids not getting outside recess one day when the playground was still super muddy from all the rain.

The good news is that home is sane calm IMG_8402_picnikstill the same.  And Miss Poopy continues to earn her rent by cleaning the dishes.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Warmer weather and hot heads


Maybe it is the weather front which brought in the warmer weather.  Maybe it is a conspiracy.  Maybe it is an issue with alien possession.

Whatever it is, here are a few snippets of conversations from the past couple of days.

To a student: “I’m sorry you were mad at the lunchroom monitor.  That doesn’t give you a reason to raise your fists to your teacher when you got back to class.”  (And no need to keep telling me how much you hate school.  We got the message down pat from the first day you arrived.  I just wish I could help you with all your anger.)

To a parent: “As a matter of fact, you are right.  I do want you to leave.  This meeting is obviously not working to resolve anything so we’ll just see you next week when you can bring your child back to school.” (While meeting with an irate parent who doesn’t see a problem with children showing disrespect to others… and I have no idea where the child learned this behavior…but the child will get to hang with Mama Attitude for a couple of days now.)

To a student: “So, do you like sitting in poopy pants?”  (After the child got mad at his teacher [again!] and announced he was going to crap himself – and he did… which makes me wonder how he can crap at will… and reminds me to be thankful we only have 78 more days with the willful crapper.)

To a parent: “Well, hello to you and Brown Betty!”  (Brown Betty is a brown belt who has magical powers in fixing attitudes.)

To a student: “It is never okay to tell a girl you want to push your pee pee against her butt.”  (Well…. one day it might be okay.  But never in school.  And this conversation is making me uncomfortable.  Why, look!  A bunny!)

To a parent: “I understand the traffic is bad today but please don’t yell at my teachers on duty.  We don’t have any control over the traffic.”  (Um… were you trying to go for Road Rage Poster Parent of the Year?)

Is it Friday yet? 

Monday, January 18, 2010

Lessons learned… so far


As I’ve been training for an upcoming half marathon, I’ve actually started to enjoy my long run days.  I like the feeling of running at a slow comfortable pace without worrying about time.  Plus, I get to see my town in a different way than I do when cruising by in a car. 

Along the way, I’ve learned some important lessons:

  • It doesn’t matter that I look like a complete moron, it is important to pull my short hair back out of my eyes.
  • Getting away from everything has a cathartic feel.  This is my only real alone time.
  • I now have proof that I’m not a witch - and apparently, I’m not all that sweet – as nothing happens to me when it rains.
  • The *seedier* parts of town have really entertaining things on the ground.  How does a magenta, flowery bra end up in the road?  And used condoms?
  • Splashing water from a water bottle scares away most dogs.
  • There are a lot of idiot drivers who apparently got their license from a cereal box out on the road.
  • Despite what most people told me, I do NOT crave salad and other healthy foods while running.  I do; however, think a lot about Doritos, hamburgers, and bread pudding.
  • The shuffle feature on my iPod is awesome and makes it feel completely natural to follow a Smithereens’ song with one by Otis Redding.
  • Stick with a bland breakfast.  No more jalapenos with my eggs on the morning of my long run.  This is an important one.  And I probably need to send an apology to the dude who has the nice yard where I herked a little.

So, there. I really am getting ready for that Princess Marathon at Disney in March.  Now I need some ideas for how to decorate my shirt for the big event.  Any suggestions?

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Love one another

Pain and affliction fill the air

I feel helpless and undeserving

Why should I have these comforts

When others have none?

I’ll give. I’ll pray.

Will you do the same?

Unless you live under a rock, you've heard about the tragedy in Haiti. My heart breaks for the people there. Please consider giving in some way, shape or form. There are many agencies and churches out there who are collecting money and donations. Even my students are bringing in their change for us to donate to the Red Cross. You don't want to be showed up by elementary students, do you?

This is a Sunday 160. The Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces). For more information, visit Monkey Man (a creative genius!).

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Harvesting happy thoughts

After much anticipation and worry, the smile governor of Georgia has finally made the announcement.  There will be three more furlough days for educators on top of the three we’ve already had.  And I can count!  Three plus three equals six!  No need to question my credentials.

Still, I’m thankful I have my a job.  And now, I’m officially broke.

We got a new student a couple of weeks ago.  Mr. Smiley is adorable.  And very busy.  And incredibly below grade level.  Yes, you can be below grade level in Kindergarten.  Mr. Smiley smiles all. the. time.  Even whilst crying in the sugar seat in my office after threatening to hit a girl on the butt.

I think I love him.  And the teacher is now calling him my boy.  Should I let my husband know?

Finally, the weather gods remembered that we live in the deep south and slowly thawed the freeze we’ve been under for the past three weeks.  Morning duty will become enjoyable again.  Though I still have my eye on you, Mrs. Pissed at the World.  And you better never try to drive off while kids are still getting out of cars.  Cuz I’m itching to ban you and your crappy attitude from the campus.  Forever. 

And while morning car duty is fun, it doesn’t hold a candle to afternoon car duty.  Buh bye!  Have a great long weekend!  I am so out of here!

Monday, January 11, 2010

The post where stabbing myself in the eye with a sharp stick begins to sound fun

books Way back before I became an administrator, I was a teacher of middle school students with behavior disorders. Yeah. I know. Crazy! What was I thinking? Who knew behavior disordered middle schoolers could be saner than parents? Occasionally a student would bring a book to me pointing out a *bad* word to which I would always give the same simple response.
“Thank you for pointing that out. Obviously, you are not mature enough for this book. I’ll return it to the library for you.”
At that point, the conversation was over. There was no debate. And I never had this conversation twice with the same student.
If only things could be so simple with some parents.
Today, I received a phone call from a parent who wants to have a picture book banned from the school library. The author in question is a well-known and well recognized author who writes about such themes as overcoming hardships and appreciating the differences in people.
Truly, I wanted to default to what I used to say to my obviously more mature former middle school students but I feared another a phone call from the superintendent. I tried to be understanding and just listen. Basically, it all boiled down to this…
The book made her son sad.
Yes, that’s right. There is no nudity or implied sex scenes. There are no profanities. There isn’t even a fight scene.
Dang it. I’m thinking of suggesting Old Yeller as a read aloud for her son’s class.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

160 - Envy

The green-eyed monster

Silently spews his venom

Tears through friendship

Destroys the family tie

Without it, there would be no change

With it, there will be no peace

I tried the 160 character challenge. For more info go see Monkey Man.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

There is this teacher I know…

There is this teacher I know who has two little girls with blonde hair and blue eyes.  She and her husband loved these two little girls and have raised them well.  Still, this teacher knew something was missing.

This teacher and her husband talked with each other and both agreed they wanted to do something to help a child in need.

This teacher dreamed of adopting a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes that would look a lot like her little girls.

One day, a quiet, little girl with brown hair and brown eyes entered her classroom.  This little girl lived in a foster home, as she had most of her life, since her mother had abandoned her.  Although she had dreamed of a blond haired, blue-eyed boy, this teacher fell in love with this needy, little brown haired girl with brown eyes.

This teacher went home that night and talked with her husband.  They both agreed that they’d ask the powers that be if they could adopt this quiet, little girl with brown hair and brown eyes.

This teacher and her husband met with the powers that be and agreed to take parenting classes and to add another bedroom to their house so that they might be considered as possible parents for this brown haired girl with brown eyes.

Time passed.  The classes were taken.  A new bedroom was added.  This brown haired girl with brown eyes was allowed to visit this teacher and her husband.  The little girls with blonde hair and blue eyes loved this little girl with brown hair and brown eyes.  They wanted her to be their little sister.

Finally, just before the holidays, this little girl with brown hair and brown eyes moved into this teacher’s house.  This teacher and her husband waited to hear when the adoption would be finalized for this little girl with brown hair and brown eyes for they loved her very much.

Right after the New Year, a father with brown hair and brown eyes decided he wanted custody of his this little girl with brown hair and brown eyes.  Although this biological father had never raised this little girl with brown hair and brown eyes, he now wanted a chance.

There is this teacher I know who is broken hearted.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

And are we always this charming?


I had a message this morning from an irate parent.

“My son is on his way back from his father, the bastard, who didn’t get him home on time so he won’t be at school today.  Since it isn’t my fault that his father was being a jerk, I am demanding this absence be excused.  And if you don’t excuse it, I will take it over your head because this. is. not. my. fault.  And if you send me another letter about my son’s absences and tardies, I will report you.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Apparently, since my voice mail didn’t respond to her question, she went ahead and called the superintendent’s office.

Her new letter about her son’s unexcused absence is already in the mail.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Irregardless of your time, can we just take a minute to conversate?

Seriously, I try not to laugh out loud when IMG_8070 parents and teachers use words that aren’t really words. At least not yet. And by not yet, I mean they aren’t currently listed in the God of Dictionaries – the Merriam-Webster (I could be wrong on this one since I’m not super vigilant about attending services).

Relax. I’m not a language slob. Especially since *I*, the hearing impaired one, mispronounces words regularly. I do happen to have mad phonics skills but we aren’t here to discuss those outlaw words that defy the phonics police.

Once when meeting with a parent about their child’s behavior, the father sat up and loudly said, “We’ve done every thing we know to do. We’ve taken things away from her. We’ve spanked her. Why we even grounded her and the groundation didn’t work.”

The groundation.

Personally, I think it is a word that makes good sense. I just wish I saw it in the vocabulary of more parents these days.

**Update - Hilariously, I didn't mean to write slob instead of snob. Nor did I intend to use the wrong verb tense. I blame the Nyquil.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

160 – Swamp Lesson


Spanish moss dangles

From history’s arms

Hidden alligators

With weary wisdom laden eyes

Resurrection ferns

Bring the promise of change

While this world stays the same


I tried the 160 character challenge.  For more info go see Monkey Man.


What fun is it if I have to keep this shirt away from fire?