There is one less deranged bird in the world but please don't call me Ozzy

This morning, at the track, I noticed what appeared to be a bat flying around one of the light posts because I usually go running before the butt crack of dawn.  I like bats as long as they stay the hell away from me because they eat bugs.  If there is one thing you need to know about the south, it is that we have bugs.  Lots of bugs.  Anything that eats bugs is cool in my book as long as that said thing stays away from me.

Suddenly, the stupid bat swooped at my head.  Oddly, I had just been thinking about what I’d do if the bat tried to attack me – so I was prepared.  I grabbed the bat and flung it to the ground.

Only it wasn’t a bat.  It was a bird.  Apparently a deranged bird.

I guess we could say he isn’t having a good Monday.

Hope your Monday is better.

The name may be all wrong but still I like the visual

After running at recess, Mr. Argumentative flung himself into the line with the other boys and girls waiting to reenter the building.

Mr. Argumentative (having worked up a sweat):  “Whew!  I ran so fast I was like a snot wad!”

Kindergarten Teacher (trying to comprehend): “Say that again.”

Mr. Argumentative (trying to enunciate better): “I just ran so fast I was like a snot wad!”

Kindergarten Teacher (leaning in closer to the student trying to understand): “How does running fast make you a snot wad?”

Mr. Argumentative (looking at the teacher as if she were the slow kid trying to explain):  “You know.  Like those fast cars guys drive.  Snot wads!”

Kindergarten Teacher (biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing): “Oh.  You mean hot rods.”

Mr. Argumentative (with one eyebrow up and a look of disdain): “You can call them that but my daddy says they are snot wads.”

He just may have a point, eh?

It really wasn’t her fault

Despite the waning popularity of diagnosing people with ADHD, the disorder is still alive and well.   Just ask my husband.  Today, a 5th grade student was sent to school without her meds.  We can deal with her until she starts eating her class assignments but she is super emotional and just all over the place much like a goat on crack.

I had to speak with Little Miss Out of Meds this morning in the hallway as she skidded to a stop outside the bathroom.  On her knees. 

She began to cry - which was my clue to her lack of meds.  Since it was so early in the day, I decided to call her mother to see if she could run the medicine up to the school.  The mother agreed and asked for me to have the child in the office to save time.

Little Miss Out of Meds spread her stuff out over three desks sat in the office working on undoing the braids in her hair an assignment until the mother arrived.

Mother: “Well, look at you!  You look like Buckwheat!”

Little Miss Out of Meds (beginning to tear up again): “Momma.  Why do you make fun of me?  I didn’t mean to mess it all up!”

Mother: “Then quit messing with your hair.  And look at your school work.  It looks like you wrote with your foot!”

Little Miss Out of Meds (really working up a good cry): “I wish I had a different mother!  A nice mother wouldn’t make fun of my feet.” 

Apparently, her feet write neater than her mother will give them credit for.

Next time, I am totally checking that out.

Should I tell them?

Mr. Funny gets tons of mail from a lot of different universities.  He has worked hard in school and having many options is his reward and my stressor because how far away from home do you want my boy?. 

As we have been perusing the applications, I’ve noticed they want lots of money for the application fees recommendations from former teachers, current teachers, and his guidance counselor.  They ask nothing about my opinion of my son’s abilities.

Therefore, I do not feel it is my responsibility to let them know that Mr. Funny may need some special assistance in some areas.  For instance, he can’t figure out when to empty the trash. 

He has yet to figure out how and where to put away his clothes.

 

Discussing the state of affairs at his desk makes me feel like going into a blackout rage a little crazy.

Soon enough, Mr. Funny and all his messes won’t be my problem.  I sincerely hope that there are some remediation courses in the home department as I have apparently failed to teach him in this area.

These universities have no idea what they might be getting themselves into.  For crying out loud, we occasionally have to remind him to flush the toilet.  Probably, they should leave him alone.

But that’s what they’ll get for not asking for my opinion.

Some will say that grownups are just big kids. I say they are grownups and they should, therefore, grow up.

I’m tired of excusing away bad behavior on the part of grownups.  Particularly in regards to tattling.  You’d think there would be that magical moment, ideally in elementary school, when people realize that they shouldn’t tattle on others.   Is it really earth shatteringly important for me to know that Ms. So and So was 2 minutes late? 

One of my PE teachers has adopted a policy of saying, “Tattle tale time is after 4 p.m.”  4 p.m. is after all the kids have gone home.  I wonder what the teachers would think if I just didn’t listen to them and all their supposedly innocent slips of information.  “Oops.  I didn’t mean to tell you about how Ms. So and So took the kids outside to clean the animal cages during Math time.  Math time!  Can you believe it?!” 

Ironically, when I was teaching middle school, I remember being amazed that older students would still tattle on others.  And by tattle, I don’t mean they’d tell me about the class bully trying to shove their head into the toilet during break but things like, “She is looking at me.” 

In an effort to cure my middle school kids of all their tattling, I developed worksheet for them to complete if they needed to tell me about something.  Especially if we were in the middle of a lesson or group work. I worked hard to teach them the difference.

For instance, I wanted to know if Susie was making herself puke in the bathroom after lunch.  I didn’t want to know that Johnny passed a note to puking Susie.  I wanted to know if Horace had his glasses broken by Butch.  I didn’t want to know if Horace hid his glasses in his pocket during lunch though who could blame him for not wanting to look at the lunchroom food.  It boiled down to a simple rule. If life, limb and/or feelings were at stake, come tell me.

The worksheet had about 20 questions for them to complete.  Things like describe the weather, what is one thing you learned in your last class, what do you wish were on the lunch menu, and so on.  The last question was, “What did you want to tell me?” 

I’ve thought about pulling that sheet out for my teachers.  Either that or posting a sign announcing, “Tattletales accepted after 4 p.m.” 

Anyone want to join me for a nice run at 3:59 p.m?

If at first you don’t succeed, failure might be an option

After the week from H-E-double hockey sticks a really rough week (thanks for being such a great ear, Movie!), I knew I had to do something to get my mind off of some of the chaos (the unbloggable chaos, that is).  I discovered a new favorite drink - the cucumber martini.  And with cucumbers in it, it counts as both a beverage AND a vegetable!  How awesome! 

After two servings of vegetables, Mr. Strong and I went to a funky hamburger dive.  I ordered a hamburger different from any burger I’d ever had.

If you think that stuff under the bacon looks like PEANUT BUTTER, then you are super observant!  What is not to like?!  Hamburgers and peanut butter are two of my most favorite foods but it does make me wonder what the inventor of this burger was smoking.  And BACON makes everything better!  It was an awesome hamburger and I’m working hard to find it in me to forgive my oldest child for eating the half I brought home for later.  Surely, the combination of peanut butter (protein!) and hamburger (more protein!) with bacon (even more protein!) will help me improve my running skills. 

It must have been the combination of two vegetable drinks along with a freakishly delicious burger that encouraged me to go ahead and do something I’ve been trying to talk myself out of thinking about. 

I finally signed up to torture myself run in the Disney Princess Half Marathon! 

Now I really need to get serious with my running because I don’t want to be the last princess to cross the finish line.  Also, I need to get focused on eating healthy.

By the way, does anyone know where they might serve Peanut Butter Burgers for breakfast in Orlando? 

I need a new name for Barbie Stickers

It would be safe to say Barbie Stickers  is a student who marches to the beat of a different drum.  That is the nice way of saying we work our butts off to keep her motivated. And not biting others.

This year, she is no longer interested in Barbie stickers for merely stepping out of the car.  She has moved on to bigger and better things.

Yep.  She has fallen in love with a 6 foot inflatable kangaroo that was intended to be a decoration in the media center.   She will do her work just for a nod of approval from this inflatable kangaroo.  I am wondering when Barbie Stickers is going to look at us as if we are crazy and announce that the kangaroo is in fact, not real.

Any suggestions for a name to replace Barbie Stickers?