Lotsa Time

It must be summer vacation from school.  I have time to be irritated that the stupid pigs on "Angry Birds" smile at you when you lose.

Field Trips...Are They Really Necessary?

During my long blog break, many things happened.  One of the more memorable things that happened was that I was fortunate enough to go on a field trip with my class.  Ahem.

Before we went on the field trip, however, something was amiss in Ms. Non-Mommy's classroom.  Do you remember Zach, my beloved autistic child?  I really do love this kid.  He's absolutely hilarious and very sweet.  Unfortunately, Zach had a pretty serious accident.  His injuries forced him to avoid any situations that may make his injuries worse.  These situations include recess.

For those of you not in a classroom, can I tell you how fortunate you are to be able to pee when you want during the day?  Don't take it for granted.  Because I get two bathroom breaks a day, and that is only if no parents come in to talk to me, call me, or I don't have a meeting.  The kids are at recess and I'm usually counting down the seconds until I can sprint to the restroom.  For a few weeks, Zach had to stay in at recess with me.  This involved him following me around the room asking me the same questions over and over and over again.

"Ms. Non-Mommy, can you print me a picture of a kitty?  Can you print me a picture of a kitty?  Can you print me a picture of a kitty?  Why don't you have any ink?  You should get a job so that you can buy some ink.  Can you print me a picture of a kitty at home?  Can you draw me a picture?  Can you print me a picture of a kitty?"

This went on for weeks.  Zach even had to come to the restroom with me, because we aren't allowed to leave students alone.  So I'd be trying to pee and would hear faintly through the door "When you come out, can you print me a picture of a kitty?  Oh, hi Mrs. Dennis.  I'm waiting for Ms. Non-Mommy.  Hey, can you print me a picture of a kitty?"


Imagine my surprise when a few weeks later, Zach's mother was absolutely insistent that he go on a hiking field trip with our class.  The kid couldn't step a toe outdoors at school, but a 2.5 mile hike on rocks was ok?  Whatever.  I plastered a smile on my face and soldiered on.

The day of the field trip looked bright.  It was going to be a great day!  And then Zach walked in the room.  Something was not normal about the way he was behaving today.  How did I know?  Because he walked in and announced "Argh, matey!  I be a pirate today!  Want a drink of my rum?"  When I refused to take a drink of his rum, he kept shoving his water bottle in my face insisting that I drink his rum.

            

I tried to use the secret teacher detection technique.  You know the one!  The "How was your morning, Zach?  Did you eat breakfast this morning?  Did you do everything you normally do during breakfast?  Did you...take everything you were supposed to this morning?"

Off to the hiking trail we went.  I knew he'd be slow, so I kept Zach and I at the back of the line while all the other teachers and students walked on.  We stepped onto the trail, Zach looked down and noticed we were on a large hill, and he immediately began shrieking.  He was screaming bloody murder and I'm sure that strangers around us were wondering what on earth was I doing to this poor kid?!  He was screaming "I'm going to fall!  I can't do this!  We can't go on a hike!  I can't go!"  I had to go, and there was no one to stay with him, so I had to literally pull him along.

He kept yelling at me "I'm too old to die!  I'm too old to die!"  After a while, he wrapped himself around me like a squid and I struggled to carry us both.  We continued to walk along and a girl nearby fell on the trail.  Her knee was squirting blood and that, of course, set off Zach.  Now I had a screaming autistic child AND a screaming bleeder!  And of course, everyone else was far, far away.  I cleaned her up the best I could and kept plodding along, imagining that I was going to die in the middle of this trail with these two crying children.

Miraculously, we managed to catch up to the line of children only to be stopped by a kid puking in the middle of the trail.  The icing on the cake.

As we continued onward, the fat kids slowly trickled to the back of the line.  I know that is mean, but listen, I was one of them once.  I know how it is.  Pretty soon I had all the fat kids at the back going "I'm so hot!  I can't do this!  How much farther do we have to go?  I don't like to hike!"  (Yes, that was me.)  And along with them, Zach kept shouting "How come you don't want any of my rum, Ms. Non-Mommy?"

Oh, Zach.  I did want it.  Oh, so much.

When the Cat's Away...

School has started, and my internet time has come to a screeching halt.  I'm working with children that are much younger than I am used to, and I'll be honest, I'm struggling a bit.  I love my job, and the kids are really precious, but they are not as fun as pre-teens.  And they cry a lot.  And tattle.  And they are way down there - so short!

Today, one of the school lunch choices was pizza.  A teeny, tiny pixy-like girl came into the room, saw the pizza listed as a choice, put her hands on her tiny hips and said "But Obama said no more pizza!"

I thought that was pretty darn cute.  But then, a teeny, tiny boy with no teeth pipes up and says "Yeah, but he's on vacation in Brazil right now, so it's ok.  He'll never know."

Kids are adorable.

Makes Sense to Me

Log this one in the "People Are Insane" file!

Last year, my mentee (as in, the young teacher I mentor.  Guide with my infinite wisdom.  Turn into a fine, upstanding teacher.) had a parent/teacher conference.  The mother brought a cat to the conference.

She brought a cat.

To a conference.

This poor young teacher is severely allergic to cats.  The mother let the cat crawl all over the table, and then let it roam around the room.  Being young, and afraid, the teacher didn't have the nerve to tell the woman she was allergic to cats.  By the time the conference was over, my poor mentee had puffy eyes, a rash, and was itching all over.  I had to go in and clean off all the surfaces in her room afterward.

Do you want to know why she brought a cat?

And I quote, "Well, if I left it in the car, it might climb into the dashboard."

Duh.

School is over and I have had to say goodbye to many students that I love.  This was a great school year.  I had 120 students and I only felt like murdering two of them.  Talk about a success rate!  One of the teacher's in my school had all of the students create a book for me about their school year.  I won't share all of their notes, but hopefully you'll get a kick out of some of the notes I choose to share.  I will type them exactly as they were written.  I will also be teaching younger children next year, as you may infer from some of the comments.

• There are some things that I realy like about you yow whernt Just some old teacher.  No afence to all the other 5th grad teacher;s you where the coolest teacher I have ever had.  (From a special needs student)
• In the beginning of the year I didn't think much of you as a teacher, I just really liked your name.  Now though, your probably the best teacher I've ever had!  My mom even knows how awesome you are I tell her every day basicly.  
• Even though you sometimes had to be strict I still love you.  I couldn't wait to get to your class every day.  I loved listening to the Beatles as we worked.
• I think it's funny how you absolutely hate texting words so...y do u hate txting wrds?  LOL
• In August when I first met you I thought you were crazy but, now I realize that your just AWSOME!  Your my favorit teacher in the world but sometimes you get cranky from the class befor us and your still cool.
• From the beginning of the year I was terrible, at the middle I was better.  Now I'm bad again.

Can You Feel the Love? Part 1

School is over and I have had to say goodbye to many students that I love.  This was a great school year.  I had 120 students and I only felt like murdering two of them.  Talk about a success rate!  One of the teacher's in my school had all of the students create a book for me about their school year.  I won't share all of their notes, but hopefully you'll get a kick out of some of the notes I choose to share.  I will type them exactly as they were written.  I will also be teaching younger children next year, as you may infer from some of the comments.

• You are a nutt ball, just like me!
• So now I here that your going to England this summer, so while your there please relax so that you aren't tense.
• I really hope that you can handel those 3rd graders.  Let me tell you something, some of those children are animals.  What did you get yourself in to.
• Okay, let's get this straight.  Your the best social studies teacher in, like, the entire world.  You turn every lesson into something fun even if it is possibly the most boring subject ever.
• One of the resons that I am going to miss you is because of your niceness and all of the time and money you spend on us.  That is really nice of you.
• I wish you good luck with the third graders.  Your going to need it.  I think the third graders will enjoy you as there teacher.  Just don't pay attention to them when they pick there nose!

Hi.

I have so much going on in my life right now.  And none of it, NONE of it, can I blog about!  It is KILLING me!  And now I'm getting out of the habit of blogging.  So, I just have to jump into the deep end and blog again.

Let's talk about field trips, shall we?  Ahh, field trips.  Fun times involving children going nuts and running around, cranky parents gossiping, and more Lunchables than can be found in the biggest Oscar Meyer plant ever.  I have had some wonderful field trips, and it is really neat to see kids out of their element, experiencing something new.  But there still have been some field trips that can go down in history as some of the most...memorable ever.

With that, I present to you my top four worst field trip experiences, ever.

The Field Trip of Death

This was my very first field trip as a teacher.  We were going to a literature festival at a university.  There were a billion, gazillion children there and I was a nervous wreck that I would lose a child (My, how times have changed!  With age comes a state of relaxation called "Don't Turn Around, Ignore What The Children are Doing Behind You").  We arrived to a classroom, where we were to hear from an author.  Imagine my surprise when we met the author and I noticed that he was old.  Really old.  Like, just wheeled out of the nursing home.  He began speaking to the students, but was struggling.  After all, he was about 150 years old.  No wonder!  Suddenly, without warning, the author collapsed on the floor!  BAM!  Given my calm, cool demeanor in an emergency, my reaction was to hold up my phone and say "I have a phone!"

Really, Non-Mommy?  That's the best you could do?

Anyway, suddenly through the fog I heard a voice say "Get the kids out of the room, dummy!"  So we evacuated the room and waited for the ambulance.  We later learned that the author didn't actually die.  He wrote my class an apology letter for scaring them.

Then, he died.

(Don't) Take Me Out to the Ball Game

We took the children to a professional baseball game.  It was looking a little cloudy, but we had the tickets and it was School Day or some such nonsense.  This meant that there were approximately 2 billion children at the stadium.  Each child purchased a healthy lunch of a hot dog or nachos.  We found our seats, approximately ten of my students had taken a seat with their food when suddenly the skies opened and it rained harder than I have ever seen.

Nachos went flying as the children ran for their lives, screaming.  Soon we were huddled under an awning with 2 billion other children, hoping the monsoon would let up in time for the game to be played.

After two hours, yes, TWO HOURS, we finally gave up.  No game.  We're out of here.  Except...where is Timmy?

Timmy?

Timmy?

Timmy was there with his non-custodial parent.  This parent was less than reliable.  Timmy, and the parent, were nowhere to be found.  I began frantically searching for Timmy and the parent, but 2 billion people were huddled like sardines in a tin can.  My heart was pounding.  My hair was curling from the rain.  This was not good.

Suddenly, I spotted them.  The parent was not kidnapping the child.  Phew.  I then had to pack 25 very disappointed (and soggy) kids onto the bus.  My boss insisted that I must call each parent on my cell phone and tell them of the situation.  I was not pleased about this, because this meant that parents would have my personal phone number.

We're Not in Kansas Anymore (a.k.a. the Barf Chronicles)

We went on a field trip to a gorgeous, gorgeous state park.  The bus drivers took us on a very windy journey to arrive at our destination.  The children were looking slightly green.  I was urging my stomach contents to remain in the proper place.  Even so, I was bragging about my field trip barf streak.  Seven years, no puke.

We finally arrived, had a great time, and it was time to go.

As we were leaving, a young lady boarded the bus.  She was feeling very queasy.  We handed her a trash bag and wished her luck.  I managed to sweet talk the bus driver to separate from the caravan and take a much less windy way home.  Before we even left the park, she hurled.  A lot.  The kids around her started gagging and yelling "EWWW!"  I tried to remind them that barfing is bad enough without an audience, so how must she feel?

The poor girl puked, and puked, and puked, and puked.  Soon, she reported that she was feeling tingly and numb.  This was not good because the young lady had a seizure disorder.  Remember, I talked the bus driver into going on a new path.  So we now found ourselves in the middle of NOWHERE, with no one else remotely close by.  We were so far from civilization that cell phones had no service.

We stopped in an abandoned town, at an abandoned cafe just like The Whistle Stop Cafe, to let the young lady get off the bus.  Maybe some fresh air would help.  We frantically tried to call ANYONE for help.  The girl was seeing black spots.  We couldn't get a hold of anyone.  The only choice we had was to get back on the bus and floor it.

Meanwhile, her poor face wasn't the only thing that was green.  We noticed that the sky was very green. It began to storm very hard.  The poor girl continued to puke and puke, and the bus driver was dodging bolts of lightning as quickly as he could.

We arrived back, the young lady went to the doctor, and we found out that when we were fleeing, there was an actual tornado on the ground.

Straight Jacket, Anyone?

Today I went on a field trip.  The weather was gloomy, but we left anyway.  We had a day of hiking planned.  One of my darling angels came on the field trip with some difficulties that I cannot blog about. Just understand that something very, very wrong was happening to the child.  The child was very angry. He kept hitting others, throwing things, and yelling at me.  At one point, I turned and saw the child sitting on top of another child, punching the other child.  Obviously, this was not going to work.

I told the child that he must stay with me for the duration of the trip, and he flipped out.  He totally lost it.  He flung himself on the ground and refused to move.  I had 60 children watching us.  We were, again, in the middle of nowhere on a trail that I was unfamiliar with.  I had to make a decision.  I had to force the child to go.  I can't leave him behind, and I need to be there for the other children and teacher.  So I called my principal.  Normally, she would have taken care of this situation.  But she had left the field trip, dealing with an emergency.  We had no chaperones.  We had no one.  My only choice was to give him the option to walk.

I abandoned the other teacher I was hiking with, and 60 children, and had to forcibly carry this child off of the trail.  I am not comfortable doing this, but had no choice.  He fought and screamed the entire way. I returned back to the beginning of the trail and waited for another teacher to come sit with the child while I caught up to the other 60 children.  I returned to the trail and enjoyed walking by myself.  I was walking rapidly, trying to find the kids, but couldn't find them.  Finally, I located them.  They all began cheering "Run, Ms. Non-Mommy!  Go Ms. Non-Mommy!"  But I was too pooped to run.

Then we were eating lunch and again, the skies opened up and we were rained upon.  A whole, whole lot.  I then had to drag my wet, defiant student onto the bus.  I placed him on a seat by himself.  He curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

The return bus ride was very curvy.  The bus was very steamy from the rain.  The defiant child slept the entire time.  Suddenly a cry from the back indicated that something had happened.  A barfy girl came up to the front of the bus, puking.  She puked into the trash can at the front of the bus, held by another teacher so that she wouldn't fall over when the bus navigated the turns.  She then turned her head and puked all over the bus steps and glass door.

We arrived back at the classroom.  I was exhausted and fed up.  The defiant child climbed up onto a table in my room and fell instantly asleep.  He slept for two hours, on a table.  Did I wake him up?  Heck no.  He didn't even wake up when the bell rang.

There is a reason that I always buy myself a bottle of wine for field trip days.

My Evil Twin

I recently found out that the father of a student of mine (from last year) told someone else that he saw me.  He saw me and I was "letting my hair down."

I'm curious.  Was I letting my hair down in Wal-Mart?  Or maybe on my way to church?  Or buying 400,000 cookies at the Dollar Store (for school)?

Because there has been no letting down of hair, literally or figuratively.

THEN, I mentioned this hair letting incident to another friend, who knows the father.  She tells me that he's been asking questions about me!  Knock me over with a feather, seriously.  I never see the man.  Never.   I only saw him last year when he picked up his child from tutoring after school.  I'm absolutely baffled.

So now, I'm dying of curiosity.  Who is my evil twin, and what is she up to?  Does she look like me?  Is she hotter than me?  And more importantly, is she doing evil deeds and secretly throwing me under the bus?  I need to know!

Surviving Standardized Testing

The big, scary standardized tests are upon us.  Let's just be honest.  We spend the entire school year preparing for the tests.  As the testing days approach, we spend a great deal of time reminding the children that they should get lots of rest, eat a good breakfast, have their materials ready, etc.

But who thinks about the teachers?  You know, the ones that will this week be trapped in a classroom that is already not large enough to hold 31 students, even with the desks grouped together.  The teacher that has to give tests all day long to children during fantastically beautiful weather.  The teacher that literally won't be able to squeeze through the rooms because of the desks all pulled apart.  The teacher who knows that a visit is imminent from THE TEST POLICE, meaning that from 8:30 to 2:55, the teacher will not be permitted to sit, or use the computer.  The teacher who knows that if her students bomb the test, it reflects poorly on her, can affect her salary, and will undoubtedly require more work.

For these brave souls, I present

THE TEACHER'S CHECKLIST FOR STANDARDIZED TESTING

Comfortable clothes  (Check!)

Comfortable shoes that make no noise when you walk  (Check!)

Small pieces of chocolate that require no packaging to be opened  (Still need)

Three bottles of red wine (Check!)

Large bottle of Exedrin Migraine (Check!)

Massage appointment scheduled (Still need)

Have key phrases memorized, such as "I can't help you, just do your best.  I can't give you the answer, just do your best.  If you're stuck, come back to it, and do your best.  I know, honey, just do your best."  (Check!)

Cattle prod for students who just aren't working (Still need)

Deep breathing exercises (Still need)

A miracle (Still need)

Private Eyes...They're Watching You!

Here is some background music for you to listen to as you read this blog entry:


There are a few things they neglect to tell you when you go to college to be a teacher:

1.  You will never urinate on a normal schedule again.  You'll be expected to hold it allllll daayyyy longggg.  Then, when you are not at work and dreaming of wearing a diaper, your bladder will continually scream at you "You can go to the bathroom!  Go!  Go!  Every 15 minutes!  Go!"

2.  You'll have to stand outdoors, dressed professionally.  Nothing puts a damper on a cute, expensive, professional outfit than standing on a boiling hot playground with sweat rolling down your back.  Also, if you're half albino like me and have to wear a hat every day, it really messes up your hair.

3.  You will never have privacy again.  Seriously.

When I was a kid, I had a teacher that I absolutely adored.  I will call her Super Teacher.  The idea that she was a real person was mind boggling.  Then, she got pregnant!  Then, she invited me to her church to watch her baby get dedicated.  I was on Cloud 9 with joy!  THEN, we started going to her church so I got to see Super Teacher all the time.  The best part was that I even got to go to her house and hold her baby.

I'm sure we all can recall moments where teachers did nice things for us, or we realized that they didn't live in the classroom.  Just a smile at the top of your paper, or a star, meant sheer bliss!

I became a teacher and was determined to make connections with my students just like Super Teacher did.  Naively, I gave my students my home address and phone number.  The address thing was good - who doesn't love to get mail?  The phone number?  BAD IDEA.  Kids would call me non-stop.  Little Davy must have called me 4,000 times.  He wanted to just hang out with me on the phone.

Later, I got Caller ID and stopped giving out my phone number.  This didn't stop parents from calling me, even when I was unlisted.  Parents will call you at home at night.  You'd think it would be for something important.  But most of the calls I got at home would be things like "Sadie lost a form that you sent her, can she have another one?"  And if you don't answer, they call over...and over...and over.

So, I stopped answering if they were parents or students.  Email came along and really revolutionized things.  People called less and emailed more.  This was a good solution for me.

But then, there's the whole privacy thing outside of phone lines.  What about the time that I had three students literally run after the car when I got in a car to go on a date, yelling "Ms. Non-Mommy, is that your boyfriend?"  Or the time on a date with another man when we entered a movie theater full of children I knew.  They all yelled hello at me, and kept turning around to look at us.

At church, parents come to talk to you about their child's grade card.  Or they'll want to pump you for information about another student's parents' divorce.

I used to have a child that would comment about my home constantly.  He'd say things like "I noticed that your TV was on late last night, what were you watching?"  "There was a red truck at your house, who was there?"  "Ms. Non-Mommy, did you know that your garage was open late last night?"

I've perfected the art of sneakily entering the wine section at the local grocery store, peeking around the corner to see if any kids were nearby, and then running to save my life.  I'm sure the security team at the store laughs at me every time.

The best part is when your students live near you.  They ring the doorbell constantly.  They play in your yard.  They look in the window.  They wave at you as you walk by your living room window.  They watch you mow the lawn and yell at you over the sound of the mower, even though you are clearly wearing an iPod.

But hey, at least if I were to ever go missing, I'd have tons of eyes watching my every move.  They'll tell the police where to find me!

Sappy McSapperson

When you come back to school after an extended period of time, whether planned or unplanned, you get two kinds of reactions.

Reaction number one is kind of like "HEY!  How ya doing, Ms. Non-Mommy?  High five!"

Reaction number two isn't just spoken.  In fact, many times there are no words.  You see it all in their faces.  They look at you with this hungry, sad look that if it could speak would say "Oh thank God, I'm so happy to see you."  They wrap themselves around your waist, or shoulders when they are huge, and hang on for dear life.  I know that many schools have a no hug/no touch policy, but screw them.  These kids received no affection, no affirmation, nothing positive while they were gone from school.  As I hold onto them, I can smell cigarettes, dirty hair, and fried food.  While they still hold on, I ask them about their break.  I listen to their silly stories.  I give them an extra squeeze and tell them that I missed them and was thinking about them.  They've just been given their first hug of the day, some of them the first hug in several days.

What they don't tell you now, they will tell you later.  Or you'll piece it together.  The power was shut off at their house, so they were cold.  Someone in their family was arrested.  A sibling tried to kill themselves.  The one car the family has broke down and no one was able to leave the house for days.

All the while, through these sad stories, I have to act normal, when really I just want to scoop them up and take them home.

In these moments, I alternate between feeling uplifted that they know I care and heart broken that there are such sad, lonely kids out there.

I have 30 and 31 children in each of my classes.  I hardly get to see them at all, when you really break down the day.  In that one moment, can I convey "I love you.  You are not forgotten.  I care about you" adequately enough?  Is it enough for them?

I can sense it all in their facial expressions, embraces, and stories.  Sometimes it is more than I can carry.

Laptops for Dummies

I've been to more training meetings, and meetings in general, than I have gone on blind dates in my entire life, and that's saying a lot!  Most of the time, I find these meetings to be a huge waste of time.  Take, for example, a meeting I had to go to to learn how to use a new laptop (which, at the time, I wasn't able to use online or even print - useful!).  I may not be a technology genius, but I know my way around a computer, thank you very much!  I wasn't thrilled to go to this meeting, especially when it went like this:

Me:  [leaning over to the person next to me]  I hope this thing doesn't last very long.  How hard can it be to use a laptop?!


Other Participant (OP):  What is that big button with the light, that has a circle with a slash on it?


Me:  Uh...that'd be the power button.

OP:  Oh, is that how you turn it on?

Me:  [sighs]

OP:  So what do these little pictures all over the screen mean?  Like that one with the big "W?"


Me:  Uhhh, those would be shortcuts.  They open up programs.  For example, the "W" is for Word.

OP:  Oh, wow.  You sure know a lot.  So do you know how to change the picture on the background?


Me:  Yes.  First, you...hello?  Are you listening to me?


OP:  What?  Oh, sorry, what were you saying?


Me:  [muttering]  I'm going to smash my head in between this keyboard and the screen.


Leader:  Now, I will show you how to save to your hard drive.


OP:  What did he just say?  Did he say to save something?  What?  I think I missed something, what?


Me:  Could you pipe down?  You are ruining my game of Solitaire!  I'm about to break even on Vegas style!


OP:  Oooooh, you can play games?  Can you show me?


Leader:  And, we can't use the wireless internet.  There is confusion out there, some people think it is working.


Me:  Oh, really?  How come I'm watching a hilarious spoof of "The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" if it isn't working?


OP:  What is that little thing you have plugged in?


Me:  That'd be the power cord.


OP:  I don't have one of those.  Excuse me, leader, I don't have one of those cords that Non-Mommy has!


Me:  [speaking through gritted teeth]  Yes...you...do!!!

These types of meetings just go on...and on...and on.  I feel like the most confident person in the world. 

A Teacher's Prayer for Snow

I take no credit for this poem.  However, I couldn't have said it better than this fine author.

Oh, Lord, let it snow.
Let it drift and let it blow.
In the morning, no real fuss,
Just enough to stop the bus.

Enough to make the County say:
"There will be no school today."
Let the radio report: "Snow's deep!"
And I'll roll over for more sleep.

Then later on, say maybe ten,
I'll turn the radio on again.
Just in time to hear them say:
"It's strange; the snow has gone away!"

And then I'll know, You made it stop,
So I can go to Cover to Cover and shop.
Please, Lord, just hear my teacher's plea,
And make it snow for the kids and me!

Amen

Moment of Awesomeness

I'm currently sitting in a chair with a Shiatsu massager rubbing my sore back, watching my nephew sing Toby Mac's "City on our Knees" into the faucet in the bathtub, and thinking about how in a mere 1 1/2 days I will get a break from work.

No more teachers.
No more books.
No more students' dirty looks.

I love being an aunt. I love this massage chair. I love not having papers to grade tonight.

Got Milk?

I recently became aware of an interesting situation at my job.  It seems that my coworker Bessie (not her real name!) was bragging about some baking she had done recently.  Apparently, Bessie, who is breastfeeding, has an overabundance of breast milk.  So, naturally, she started to use her breast milk to bake with!  Apparently, the breast milk gives the cookies a taste that is just to die for.  Her kids love it, and Bessie would like her coworkers to try out her special brand of baked goods, Breast Bakery (OK, I made that part up.  But that is it - every thing else is true!).

After I finished vomiting, and doing a mental checklist to see if I have ever eaten anything made by Bessie, I told my sister about the Breast Bakery.   She immediately told one of her friends, who responded with "But that isn't pasteurized!"

I admit to being a totally naieve person in regards to breast feeding.  But is this typical??  Do people use other bodily fluids to cook with?!?!

Say whaaaa?????

Scene:  A police officer is in a certain blonde's classroom, discussing drug use with the students (age 11).  

Police Officer:  Does anyone know what inhalants are?

Student Notsomuch:  Yeah.  It's that long glass tube thing that you smoke out of.

Student Notnaieve:  NO.  That's a bong!  [rolls her eyes]

Police Officer:  Heh heh heh...where do you live?

Non-Mommy:  [Alternates between dying of laughter and passing out]

Costume Ideas Needed

Life has been a little bit crazy around here lately.  What with a dog that on some days is on death's door and other days she is friskier than she was 12 years ago, crazy parents to deal with at Parent/Teacher conferences, and a birthday...who has time to blog?!

There are certainly some interesting parts to my job, but have you ever considered the unique problems that a teacher faces on a day to day basis?  Take, for example, today.  Today I had to administer computerized assessments, help a diabetic student in an emergency, listen to a girl tell me about starting her period, figure out what to do because someone stole the chips to the Plinko board I will need tomorrow (solution?  Modeling clay in Mason Jar lids!), explain the purpose of chamber pots, and play Dodge Ball (if you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball!).  And that was all in the two hours after lunch!

One of the most baffling parts of my job is to have to dress up for spirit weeks.  It's fun.  I mean, I'm not complaining.  I get to wear pajamas to work on some days (even though on those days I live in fear that my car will break down on the side of the road and someone will find me wearing footie pajamas).  Today I found out that next week I have to dress up using the following descriptors:

1)  Dress up as a hero from history
2)  Dress up as an every day hero
3)  Dress up as a Tiger hero (mascot)
4)  Dress up as a future hero (what you want to be)
5)  Dress up as a hero from a book 

These are hard!  I have no idea what to do.  What happened to simple "Hat Day" or "Pajama Day?"  I need your help.  These are some of my thoughts/ideas:

1)  Hero from history...hmmm.  I'd prefer to be a woman for this, but on my commute home all I could think about were famous black heroes, and I'm not even remotely close to that.  I thought about dressing up as Mary Kay, or as Julia Child.  I have tons of old heroes from history such as Anne Hutchinson or Clara Barton, but I don't really have the clothing to dress up in an old fashioned style.  Then I googled some famous women.

Mary Anderson, inventor of the windshield wiper.  I look just like her, by the way.  If only I could find the hat.

Josephine Cochran, inventor of the dishwasher.  Does this picture not scream "If you leave those dirty dishes in the sink one more time, I will beat you with a fork!"

 Ruth Wakefield, inventor of the chocolate chip cookie.  God bless you, Ruth.

So, I need your help with this one.  What would be a good, "out of the box" kind of idea for a hero from history costume?  Keep in mind I am a poor teacher, and not willing to put that much effort into it.

2)  Every day hero.  Surprisingly, this is really hard for me.  Everyone is going to be dressed up as a doctor, nurse, police officer, fire fighter, etc.  I want something creative!  I have totally drawn a blank on this one.

3)  Dress up as a Tiger hero (mascot).  This one is easy.  I am going to dress up as one of the janitors in my school.  I just need a flannel shirt, ball cap, and a mug of coffee.  I also have to yell "Mornin', Debbie!" all day long because my janitor is hard of hearing and yells so loud that I think my aunt in California can here him if she really strains.  And also, he calls me the wrong name and he does it in front of my students.  

4)  Dress up as a future hero.  I want to be a wife and a mother.  Duh.  So that will be easy.

5)  A hero from a book.  HELP ME.  I don't know what to be!  I'm too feminine to be this hero:

(Plus, you know, I like to shower, get haircuts, pluck my eyebrows and I don't wear pink lipstick)

I've got nothing!  All ideas appreciated!

Sure, I'm paying attention during the meeting. Wink, wink.

I have been forced to go to a lot of meetings lately.  They are NOT fun.  I think my butt is seriously getting a chair shaped mark on it.  Kudos to you all that work at a desk job, I have no idea how you stand sitting all day long.

Anyway, these were some of my thoughts as I sat through meeting after meeting:

-I wonder if I could catch that fly using my mechanical pencils as chopsticks, like Mr. Miyagi? (I tried, and failed)


-I wish I had my laptop.


-How do you clean those Camelbaks?


-I wonder if Anderson Cooper would marry me on the condition that we didn't have sex? Probably not. I wouldn't want to do that anyway, just curious. Hmm.

-I wish I could run and jump into a pool like when I was a kid. I wish I could go roller skating again, that was fun. I wonder if roller blading (which I haven't done) is like ice skating (which I have)?


-I wonder what my last student teacher is doing now? She did a crap job. I discussed her performance and desire to be a teacher ad nauseum, I gave her tips, I gave her poor grades, and it just didn't seem to help.


-I wonder what would happen if I went on the all Whopper (the candy) diet?

-If my coworker doesn't stop smacking her gum, I think I might go postal.


-If I went to England, I wonder how much it would cost to go during Prince William's wedding? If I don't go to England, where else would I want to go?


-How does a baby get a Urinary Tract Infection?


-I wonder what I should get my relatives for Christmas?


-Did I throw all my Christmas light strands away last year?

-I wonder how many people have poisoned themselves by scratching up a Teflon pan? (I once had to throw mine away for something really stupid. I used a stupid wool pad on a Teflon pan. I had to throw Cancer Skillet in the trash when I realized how dumb I am.)


-I wonder where I should go to work next year? Hmm. Far? Close? FAR?


-I wonder why people insist on driving slowly in the fast lane?

-Will "The Office" ever be as good without Michael Scott? Will another show ever be as good as "LOST?"  I hated the ending, but spent many years devoted to that show.


-Why on earth would anyone pay extra for a fainting goat? Here's what they look like (I've never seen one):

A Day in the Life

(Taken from my personal diary, August 2009)

5:55 - The alarm clock starts blinking.  Hit the snooze button.

6:00 - The alarm clock starts blinking again.  Stretch and turn it off.  Thank God you don't have to wake up to a blasted noise anymore.  (If you are interested in the best alarm clock ever, go here.  This clock has literally changed my life!)

6:02 - Pour myself a bowl of Cinnamon Harvest cereal (Kashi - so delicious) and get online.  Primarily check Google Reader, CNN, Daily Mail, and emai (I used to get up at 5:30 and read the Bible, but I have stopped doing that.  I need to get back into that habit.  I'm not a morning person.).

6:15 - Turn on music, get in the shower.

6:40 - Get dressed, grab lunch and throw it in my Trader Joe's bag (I use that as a school bag).

6:45 - Pull out of garage.

6:50 - Walk into my classroom.  Turn on music.  Check school email.  Grade papers.

7:15 - This is when people start coming into my room to talk to me.  I get nothing accomplished.

7:30 - This is when my two work partners come in and ask me what to do.  Sometimes it annoys me, because can't they make any decisions on their own?  They are educated adults, after all!

7:40 - Write the date and lunch choices on the board, change the daily schedule, fill in the agenda so the kids can fill out their planner.

7:45 - Fill up water bottle, use the restroom.

7:55 - Kids start coming to the room.  Stand at the door and greet.

7:56 - Periodically, most of the kids come ask me "Can I go to the bathroom?  Can I sharpen my pencil?  Can I go back to my locker?"  And every day I'm like "STOP ASKING me, just go do it!  You're not in kindergarten anymore!"  They get much more independent by Christmas.

8:05 - I ask if anyone has any lunch money or notes for me.

8:07 - I ask if anyone has any lunch money or notes for me.

8:10 - The tardy bell.  I count a bunch of people tardy.  I ask again about lunch money or notes.

8:11 - The morning announcements/pledge/Pride Pledge.

8:20 - Time to start the math lesson.  Some kid will interrupt me and ask me what he should do with his lunch money and notes.

8:21 - William announces "I hate this.  This is boring.  I don't want to be here.  I don't like you.  Why is your hair so white?  You have a big nose."

8:21:05 - I take a DEEP, CLEANSING BREATH.  My nose might appear even bigger because of the frequent DEEP, CLEANSING BREATHS I'm taking all day.

8:22 - I start the math Power Point.  This is not my idea.  We're being forced to follow a new math series, and I just stand there like a dumpy Vanna White and hit the arrow button on the Power Point.  I don't even teach anymore.

8:23 -The kids' eyes begin to glaze over, because this is the most boring, stupid method to teach, ever.  But hey, it's researched based.

8:25 - I remind William gently to stop laying across his desk.  He responds with something like "I don't care!"  Or makes animal noises at me.

8:26 - I remind Garrett to close his mouth!  This happens all day long.

8:45 - Finish Power Point.  All kids are confused.  And bored.  And I'm wondering why they need me, when they could just hire a monkey to do my job?

8:47 - The kids are supposed to play the math game that goes with the Power Point.  But they don't get the math concept because of the stupid Power Point, so I spend a lot of time walking around, explaining.

8:50 - I mutter about how much I hate this math series, and how I'm going to have 60 totally clueless kids by the end of the year.

9:00 - The kids start whatever assignment it is.  I remind them that they only have 5 minutes.  William says "I don't want to do this.  I don't care about this.  I hate you."  And I think "I love you, too, William!"

9:05 - Clean up from math, get ready to go to their special class.

9:07 - Stand in the entrance to the boys restroom yelling "Do I need to come in there?  What is going on?  I will come in, don't make me!" Every once in a blue moon, I will have to go in there.  And I yell about 400 times "I am coming into the restroom!  Ms. Non-Mommy is coming into the restroom!  Did you hear me?  A female teacher is coming into the restroom.  Cover everything up, I am coming into the restroom.  Did you hear me?  I am about to walk into the boys restroom!"

9:10 - Drop off kids at their special class.  Remind the teacher that I need a detailed report about William's behavior.  This is my planning time.  It varies from day to day.  Many times I have meetings.  I run tons of errands, email upset parents, call back parents, etc.

9:58 - Oh my gosh!  I have to pick up my kids in 2 minutes!  Race to the restroom, and make it to the other side of the building by 10:00.  Yes, I could have a gold medal in getting in and out of a restroom quickly (with clean hands!).

10:00 - Have a new group of students in my room.  Teach a stupid Power Point math lesson.  But this class behaves much better than my homeroom, so I relax.

10:55 - Get my hellions back.  Take them to wash their hands before lunch.  William says "I don't want to wash my hands.  Sanitizer is 99.9% effective, and I used two squirts, so I'm covered 180%.  I don't care about Swine Flu."  I don't correct his math, or explain it to him.  He sticks his tongue out at me or something equally mature and respectful.

11:05 - I sit down with my lunch.  Some other teachers will come in and we have a meeting until recess.  I have to take notes.  While I am eating.

11:20.  I just don't even talk anymore, because I'm wiped and I don't want to complain anymore.

11:20 - Grab my hat, water, and the rest of my lunch and go to the playground where I eat the rest of my lunch while monitoring students.  Keeping a close eye on William, because he has problems at recess (I have recess duty every other week, all week.  So if I don't have it, I'm in my room thinking about doing work, but really just emailing.  Ha.).

11:45 - Recess is over, return to the room.

11:50 - Reading/writing time.  I dread this block of time.  I can teach writing well, but I strongly dislike teaching reading.  And guess who else hates it?  William!!  And he tells me that, vociferously.  This includes conversations with him at approximately 11:55, 12:00, 12:05, 12:10, 12:15...etc.  This time of day seems like it will never end.  I end up checking my email at lot during this time.  It's good to know there's life outside of my classroom.

1:20 - Reward recess.  This is the only consequence I have to give students.  If they misbehave, they miss this recess.  Or if they have missing work.

1:35 - Back in from recess.  School wide intervention time.  Too complicated to explain.  Just know that William hates it.

2:10 - Take the kids to the restroom.  Someone will come tattle on William at this time.

2:15 - Who cares what we are doing by this time?  All that matters is what William is doing.  It usually involves throwing things.  Or yelling.  Or both.  By this time in the day, I'm really tense.  William is not my only problem child, by any means.  But he dominates most of my day.

2:55 - Stand in the hallway and watch the kids go to their lockers.  Take deep breaths and give myself a pep talk.  Some kid is usually standing with me, telling me a story.  And I nod along like I am listening.  Ha.

3:00 - Kids leave, I stand in the hallway for bus duty.  This involves getting hugs from tiny children, and high fives, and my old students sneak into the building to say hi to me, and William has left, so I'm feeling better.

3:15 - All the kids are gone.  If I don't have a meeting, I will do more email and grade more papers.  And try to avoid the janitor.  But this is when he comes and I am trapped.  I have meetings most of the time after school.

4:30 - Leave school, after a long boring meeting.  Or, leave the meeting trying to not hire someone to whack the powers that be in the knee with a crowbar.  Where is Tonya Harding when you need her?

4:45 - Go to the grocery store.  I don't go every single day, but I go a lot - because I'm a very poor shopper.

5:30 - Sit on the couch and try not to fall asleep.  Or take a quickie nap.  If I'm still awake, I'll skim the internet quickly.  And maybe have a spoonful of peanut butter.

6:00 - Do some form of exercise.  This time might vary.  I usually meet two friends for this.

7:00 - Get home, cook something to eat.  Question my decision to not eat foods that have HFCS in them, or to only eat whole foods.  Because this means I have to cook!  And clean up!

8:00 - Eat.  Watch some TV. I'm playing on the computer on and off all night.  It sits on my couch, open.

9:00 - Turn on some music, grade papers for only an hour, I vow. I have 180 math assignments A DAY to grade.  Times that by 5 days, and I have 900 papers to get graded by Friday.  And that's only one subject.  Again, not my idea!

10:00 - Take a shower and feel much better!  I'm clean!  I'm relaxed!  Woo!

10:30 - Get on the computer for very serious computer work.  This includes reading my Google Reader, checking out a few slightly gossip-like celebrity websites, and doing email.

11:30(a) - If I'm not still on the computer, I get into bed with a good book.

12:30(a) - If I'm reading a book, I probably stop reading about now and go to bed.

11:00 (b) - I might be online goofing off at this time.  If so, I might be up for much longer.  Just depends.

1:00 a.m. -  I definitely aim to be in bed by this time!

This is my very boring life at this time.  It would have looked very different last school year, and even MORE different during the summer.  You can see that work kind of dominates my days at this time.

(Love this song, especially very loud.  I've always wanted to play the piano part for this song.  Or really, any instrument in it.)

The Chair of POWER!

From time to time I am THE PRINCIPAL for my building. At these times, there are no administrators, so it's just...me. Actually, I've done this many times and you just can't dread it, because it's so different every single time.


You know, at first when you are THE PRINCIPAL, you start to feel pretty powerful. You run around with the walkie talkie, shouting orders to the janitors, nurse, and secretaries (well, not really shouting, but I do adore using that thing). You see all kinds of discipline issues coming in the office. I like to sit behind the big desk and look all intimidating. In the building I work in we have teeny tiny kids, and we have gigantor kids (I have several students who are as tall, or taller, than me). When those little kids come in the office for the first time, they are scared to death. Their little lips quiver, their little eyes fill with tears, and all it takes is a very stern talking to. Just coming to the office is enough.


Then, when you start to feel like you might know what you're doing, and that you're in control, some big crap head who is taller than you comes in the office. The desk doesn't intimidate him, and neither do my meanest looks and sternest lectures. In fact, they reply something like "Whatever. I don't give a !@#$ anyway. Just give me ISS." That, my friends, is a GREAT feeling.


Or the phone calls like this:


Me: Hello, Mrs. Dumbass? This is Ms. Non-Mommy from The School of the Kids Have Their Way. I'm calling to let you know that this morning Johnny had an incident on the bus. Unfortunately, he chose to punch another child in the face and then poke him all over with a pencil.


Now, this is the moment that defines who you really are. You get one of the following reactions:


Mrs. Dumbass #1: Well, that just doesn't surprise me. I can't do anything with that kid. No one can control him. I gave up on him a long time ago. I keep telling my boyfriend to talk to him, because he needs a father. But Johnny doesn't like this boyfriend. I think it might have something to do with my recent break up with his old step dad. So I don't know what to do with him, either.

-----
Mrs. Dumbass #2: Who is this?

Me: Ms. Non-Mommy, from The School of the Kids Have Their Way. I'm acting as principal today because Mrs. Head Honcho is out of the building.

Mrs. Dumbass #2: What the hell do you want me to say? I tell Johnny to defend himself. I'm not going to let some punk ass push my kid around. He can do whatever he needs to, and I support him.

Me: I understand your position, but unfortunately, Johnny went against handbook guidelines and the school is obligated to enforce the rules set in the handbook.

Mrs. Dumbass #2: You know, I am so damn sick and tired of hearing from this school about rules. When I was a kid, we didn't have all these rules. I guess you can put him in ISS, but I'm still going to tell him that he can hit whoever the hell he wants.

-------

Mrs. Dumbass #3: Who is this again?

Me: Ms. Non-Mommy, from The School of the Kids Have Their Way. I'm the acting principal today while Mrs. Head Honcho is out of the building.

Mrs. Dumbass #3: And what do you say Johnny did?

Me: Well, Johnny chose to punch another child on the bus.

Mrs. Dumbass #3: I just don't think he did that. I know my son, and he would never do anything like that.

Me: I understand, it must be very difficult to watch your child make mistakes. I'm sure you understand my position, however.

Mrs. Dumbass #3: Well, I don't believe that Johnny did it.

Me: We have video directly from the bus of the incident. Johnny is clearly shown punching the other child, and has also confessed to hitting him.

Mrs. Dumbass #3: I want to discuss this with the real principal.

Me: I understand. I will ask Mrs. Head Honcho to call you back. It may be some time until she is available to call you.

-------

Mrs. Dumbass #4: What?? I can't believe it!

Me: I know. It is very unfortunate.

Mrs. Dumbass #4: I just can't believe it. He's such a sweet boy. He never, ever gets in trouble.

Me: [Looking at his file, and the 16 office referrals he's had this year] I understand. However, Johnny has confessed to punching the other child, and so I will have to place him in ISS for the day.

Mrs. Dumbass #4: Ask any teacher in the building, or the principals. Johnny never gets in trouble.

Me: [rolling my eyes] Oh yes?

Mrs. Dumbass #4: I suppose you can't tell me who the other child was.

Me: I'm sorry, Mrs. Dumbass, I am not at liberty to share information about other students.

Mrs. Dumbass #4: I understand. It's just that I can't imagine Johnny doing that. I'm just sure he was provoked. Can you give me a clue who it was?

Me: I'm sorry, I can't do that.

Mrs. Dumbass #4: Was it Billy? Since first grade, he and Billy have never gotten along. Once Billy even sat on his Valentine box! Was it Billy?

Me: Mrs. Dumbass, I really am unable to share information about the other child. I just wanted to make you aware that Johnny had a discipline issue, and that he will be serving time in ISS for the day.

Mrs. Dumbass #4: Can you please have the real principal call me? I just don't think Johnny could have done it. Unless it was Billy.

(At the end of the day, all you can do is feel like you looked the part of the principal wearing a cute little jacket and big jewelry, and try not to despair at the state of our society.)