Raising Hell

It occurred to me on the way home from work. I was listening to my oldest talk about her day. I love that girl, I fought hard to get pregnant, I fought hard to get her into the world, and she fought hard to stay here. She is an amazing person. A heart as big as Georgia, and a drawl to match. She always takes the side of the underdog, and stands up for what she believes in. She makes me proud to be her mother.
But....that girl can talk the ears off a brass monkey. This is what I heard:
" and then i said....blah.....SOOOOO FUNNY.... and he was all like..... AND I FELL OVER .....she had on green....he so smart.....she is funny, but a little special....I don't like it when she teases my friend... I told her to SHUT UP before I made her....I don't like that teacher.....he's stupid....she laughs with her mouth wide open at lunch....

And it hit me, I am a parent. I drive kids to and fro....I have a great job that makes me very happy...

but I really need to raise a little Hell, maybe get a tattoo....good thing I am going away with my husband to Key West in a few days...

A job in Retail

A horse likes to brush her hair, right?

My youngest daughter likes to line things up. This "issue" manifested itself around the beginning of pre-k. She lined up a stack of paper, covering the couches, fireplace, chairs, and part of the living room floor. But they were arranged! Then came the time she arranged hair brushes and combs on the head of her large pink horse, just in case the horse wanted to brush its hair.

She's in there somewhere!

One of my favorites is the time she lined up shoes, mostly flip-flops (Mandatory summer gear here in Georgia), her hand-painted dessert pieces, and other bits on top of her guitar. Then she wrapped the whole thing up with a pink jump rope. And played with it for quite some time. It is a regular occurence for her to line up dolls and stuffed animals on the stairs.
Last night, I took her grocery shopping. She is 8, but just barely stands taller than the cart. She loves pushing it, I just walk along, handing her stuff. She stopped the cart every time I handed her something to arrange it. The cans had to be in one spot, the boxes straight. I tell you, it the was the best arranged cart ever!
Here is a crappy phone picture about halfway in...

Bells and eggs...made sense at the time

wait....that's her lining up her bells and eggs and pictures and what ever the heck that pink thing is...
BTW, see that dark mark? My father did that. He was forever putting lit cigarrettes down and forgetting them.
Where was I?

An awesome job!

There it is! It's funny, at one point, she started arranging things on the shelves! Apparently the good folks at Ingles need to fire the spice shelf arranger person. My daughter can do it WAY BETTER! She said she couldn't wait until she was old enough to work there.
When we were done, the cart was completely full, not one inch of empty space, and so very neat. I wish
I had thought to get a photo of it...
On another note, I think the grocery store people are getting smarter. Remember the days when you knew you had to stop shopping because the cart was getting hard to push? Our cart last night was amazingly easy to push....I think the Grocery Store Cart Technology has taken a great leap forward and made carts that defy Newton's First Law of Motion...
Too bad the Grocery Store Baggers aren't as capable. Our guy couldn't get all the stuff in and ended up following us out with a few bags. I told him my 8 year old did a better job than he did and better watch out in 8 years because she was coming for his job!

Trash man

I feel bad for the trash men in my neighborhood today. It's Wednesday- trash day. We had extra guests in my house last week, and then a big Christmas bash and presents. We created more than a bag of trash a day. It wouldn't fit in the thingy. It was piled high like a trash sundae. We were not alone. Up and down the street trash was piled high.

I really need to get better about recycling. I bet if I really put my mind to it I could get my trash down to one bag a week.

I love it!

Stasis

This word confounds me, but seems to describe my life these days.
In Greek it means  "standing still".

On one hand it means balanced and equal. And that certainly applies here. I have worked long and hard to get to where I am now. Years of college, doing without, pinching pennies, keeping my eye on the prize. Now it is paying off. I have a great job. I teach a subject I love- on the honor's level, no less. I have been asked to get certified to teach AP classes. Which I definitely will. Even though I thinks my students would be much better served with dual enrollment. Students take the class at college. Not at high school. If they make a C, they still get credit. If they take the class in high school and don't do well enough on the AP test, no college credit for them! I think the students are better served at college. But if the school wants to pay me to get certified, and then I get a chance to teach at that high of a level- I am all over it!
But, back to my point. For the first time in a long time, I feel like life is going very well for us. We have enough money to do the things we want, the girls are old enough that we can take them to different places. We can even start replacing some of junky belongings with nicer stuff. That's a pretty great feeling.

On the other hand, Stasis means a blockage. And I feel that too. Think about the great Mississippi River. Barrelling through its channel, pushing everything along, full of energy and power. Going places, moving and shaking. Sure, it make not look it, but the Mississippi at it largest has incredible power. But then it hits the Delta and what happens? The water enters the ocean, an almost infinitely larger channel. The river loses its energy, slows down, drops it cargo of silt, mud, organics, maybe a few bodies into the ocean. New land rises, shifting and uncertain. Only time will tell how stable the land is.  Stream channels must change their course to keep running. The muddy detritus of the river blocks the water's flow, making movement impossible.
I feel like I am on uncertain ground myself. Two months after I graduated I was still running, pushing, shaking, full of energy. Then I hit the ocean, metaphorically speaking. I have slowed down, lost a bit of energy. Actually, maybe not lost it, but redirected it. The scientist in me knows that energy cannot poof out of existence, only transferred to something else. Am I redirecting my energy to building something new? Am I on unstable ground? There is something scary about being successful. Along with it is the scary question of whether I actually deserve to be happy. (This is where I prove my husband's idea that women have snakes in their head).
I am excited about my future, but scared that I will screw it up.

wow

The blog is still here... I would have thought it would have shriveled up and died by now. My son asked me why I didn't post anymore... I guess I couldn't find anything important to say...
I heard the phrase "The physics of thought" and my first thought was
BULLSHIT

then I looked online.....
one site went into great detail about thought creating discrepant events and such
and another site purported that thoughts are electromagnetic radiation and thoughts and laughter can stimulate the endocrine system.

Part of me says

BULLSHIT


But then I remember all the dreams I had that came true...
In those dreams I am always having an important conversation. And I know I have to say just the right thing to him/her and he/she must say the right thing back to me, so that danger is averted.

and then some time later, a week, a month, sometimes much longer, I have the actual conversation.
Strange...and part of the way through it I realize that I have to say a certain thing.  And then everything works out okay....

So is there a physics of thought? Can thought create a deed or an event? A display of energy?

I dunno!

Life is good. My classes are great. My students are awesome. My time is my own (no more school!). I am contemplating starting a Girl Scout troop. My daughters are happy and well. My son is becoming a man. My husband is as wonderful as the first day I met him. I am losing some of my doubts and seeing the good things in my life.


Life is good

If two people tell you the same thing, should you listen?

I have had several people give me the same message in unrelated conversations in the last few weeks. Mostly, it is about their faith in a God. I used to believe, I did. I have come to the conclusion that there isn't one. And that realization has created a sadness deep, deep inside.
  I kept seeing all the shit happening: Casey Anthony and other parents who kill their own begotten, children who kill their own parents, genocide, liars with power starving the children in their nation, the accepted rape of young girls in the name of virility, preachers who are a disgrace to humanity.

And my question to you is this: in the face of all this terribleness, how can people still believe in God? I would love to be convinced, my friends, just to rid myself of this sadness.

I graduated from college (the first time) in 1995. My oldest (and only at the time) was 6. We tried to get pregnant again, but without much success. Then in 1996, we tried Clomid. That stuff would have turned Mother Theresa into a screaming Bi-otch! We gave up, and I enrolled in college to get my master's degree. Only to find ourselves pregnant a few months later. I could not manage work, parenthood, pregnancy, and college. So I finished my term and went on hiatus.
We had a lovely daughter in the Fall of '97. She was early and had to fight for her life. She is twelve now and looking quite glorious. In 2001, I started back to finish my Masters degree. Only to find myself pregnant again. My youngest daughter was born the end of 2002.
I finally finished my Master's degree in 2005, eight years after I began.
In 2007,  I began a year-long process to get certified in gifted education. I finished in 2008
Last August I started my next college degree, Educational Specialist. I do not recommend completing a college degree in 11 months, especially while working a full time and with a family.
Less than an hour ago I finished my last assignment for my degree. I have to present them both in the next 8 days, but I am almost officially done with college.
All I can say is, "It's about damn time."

John mayer

I could listen to John Mayer every day till the day I die. He plays the guitart just like he's ringing a bell (Go, Johnny, Go, Go!) The end of this song is a bit different than the one on my ipod.

At the end of my version he says, " How come everything I think I need seems to need batteries"

So, enjoy a great song on me...too hot and tired to do much else than listen to music.

Drinks are on me!

Laura, at Fetch Me My Flying Monkeys, can't go to California. In a show of solidarity, several of us have all agreed to not go, either. I went one step farther and said I would drink a Tequila Sunrise for everyone not going. But I might be short a little Tequila. But then I remembered her beautiful blue Beta. No, I'm not planning on substituting fish for tequila, but something else blue.... in honor of her blue fish and popsicle.

Did I mention how damn hot it is here in Jawja? Sheesh...could fry an egg on the sidewalk, if my town wasn't so freakin' cheap that they won't install sidewalks anywhere except around the bank downtown.

But, because I am such a good mother, I took the youngest blueberry picking today. We stopped after one gallon, mostly because of dehydration was setting in and the mosquitos were getting in formation for attack.

Here are the fruits of our labor...

 You see the red one? The one bad apple? There is always one, isn't there? One Freedom Hater...I'll pluck that bastard out before I make my blue goodness. That bag in the back ground was full, but those blueberries are tasty, and I could not help myself.

Here is my minion slave girl demon spawn lovely helper, chief bluberry picker, Re-Pete

So what am I making? What bluberry goodness do I have in store?

Behold:

Blueberry Margaritas!!

I love, love, love a good tequila sunrise... so I added one in there for good measure...

Technically, the margaritas are more purpley than blue, but there were still quite tasty!

Dad

You know what I miss the most about my Dad? So many things...
But today, I miss playing cards with him at the kitchen table. Listeing to the sounds of his cards being shuffled together, a cup of coffee, or more likely a cold beer. My folks had a round wooden table, I can still see my Dad making a fist and then using the side of it to swipe crumbs off the table top.

A correlation between teaching buffalos and teenagers....

    I am currently furthering my edjumacation in...well, edjumacation...I have been teaching for 15 years now, high school science. I am currently working on my Specialist degree. I have my BS (bullshit), MS (more shit), now I'm getting my EdS (even deeper shit). After July 19th, I will Specialize in Shit.
But the mind wanders away from my point. Which is....lemmee think...
Yes. I am writing a paper on John Dewey. I am forever spelling his name Dewy. Like he's wet or something... If you are really, really,really, bored go see just how much that man has written. Luckily, we do not have to write  "The Life and Times of John Dewey" which I think would bore to death even his biggest fan. And I think my professor creams his pants just a little every time he says "John Dewey".
     The theme of my paper is an ongoing argument I have been having with some of my colleagues. They say we should not hold them responsible for their work ethics, I say we should. They say that we should only grade on how well they know the material. I say try being smart and lazy in the work place. It gets you nowhere good, mayhaps unemployed. Okay, I know, it seems that the underachiever is given kudos these days, and patted on the back, given a "there, there, it will be okay. Here's some money", but in my head, where the people of substance and integrity live, the reward for a job well done is more work. And a better paycheck.
    So I am writing this paper, and I am reminded of a story I heard in Bandera, Texas last summer.
Our host, Carl (or is it Karl), was entertaining us beside the pool. It was late evening, maybe very early morning, my memory is fuzzy on that point. The fuzziness might have has something to do with the bloody Mary's I had consumed.  Carl/Karl, a man with a winning Texas accent, silver hair, silver tongue, and the kind of worn skin that only comes from a long history of a love affair with the sun and the land, was telling us of a conversation with a friend of his. Both he and his friend raise, among other things, buffalo. Carl/Karl's friend was lamenting the fact that his buffalo kept breaking down fences. C/Karl's friend asked C/Karl what he did to keep his buffalo from breaking down fences. C/Karl replied that he did not have that problem. His friend was astounded! What secret trick, what magic, did C/Karl know to keep the buffalo in?
Simple, said C/Karl. He shot the first buffalo in  the head that tried to break down the fence. Word got around, he said, to the other buffalo. And the buffalo learned to leave the fence alone.

Word got around!!!

And that got me thinking about my experience as a teacher. No, I'm not saying shoot one in the head! Although, whenever I see a cool action sequence where the good guy has a BFG or cool whip, or some other weapon of destruction I think, "I would just need to use that once! Then I would never have another problem in my classroom!" But that's just me dreaming...

But, I don't have too many problems in my classroom. Because my philosophy is simple:

Begin the way you intend to continue

Simple, huh? I start with high expectations, and then I keep them. I don't put up with any crap, but I don't need a principal to handle anything. The best offense is a good tackle, or something like that. But as long as you let the student know the boundaries, then life is good.

personal space- i need it

First, let me state for the record that my professor is very smart, and can make some pretty interesting connections between politics and education. He also name- drops.
"I'm the so and so for the this group"..."I taught with this person, and studied under this on"..."Funny you should mention that, I've written three books on the subject...."
What was that guy's name on Harry Potter who was so enamored of himself? Lockhart? More like Blowhard....

And to make matters even better, there was a guy sitting beside who had no concept of personal space. He touched me on my shoulder, rubbed elbows with me, took his shoes off....and then then rubbed his nekkid feet on my feet!!! repeatedly!!! and then kept in leg inside my bubble!! Blech....
Okey, we both had flipflops on, and I was slipping mine off to rub on the carpet in a desperate attempt to stay awake, but it was not a dang invitation to get personal!

I might need more than candy and candy wrappers to keep me in that class...

no more rocks

Today, the anethesiwhatsiologist said when it was all done I would feel like I'd been hit in the back with a 2 by 4. Or is that 2X4. When I hear " 2 by 4" I see 2X4. whatever. that's too much thinking. anyway. i made it through the procedure, still groggy, sick to my stomach, and i feel like i got hit in the back with a plank of wood. dont really want to be awake. or use capitals or much punctuation.

piedra de riñón

Warning- this is kinda gross. You were warned.



Last month I got what I thought was a kidney infection. Lots of blood in the urine, some pain. So much blood the doc asked me if I might be on my period! I said, "I've been having my period for a while now, think
I'd know."

Got my prescription, drank lots of water. All gone....until about 3 weeks later. When the symptoms came back. More antibiotics. More pain, pretty much a constant ache in my back. I thought it was because I've been sleeping more and my back has been protesting the positions....

So, yesterday I had an ultrasound....kidney stones in both kidneys. Lucky me. 

B is for Bummer

Risky business

At my work, the toilet is unisex. It's also an industrial strength flusher. If anyone ever sat down on that thing and got a good seal on it before they flushed...Well, let's just say the results would be something like you'd see in a bad B-flick about some guy who wants revenge on his ex-high school buddies, invites them over, sucks the intestines out of one poor schmuck's ass with his toilet, killes the next one with a Cuisineart, the two lovers with a flying blade that impales them like a couple of olives on a toothpick....

wait. What was I talking about?

Oh, the toilet. It's loud,  and did I mention automatic? When you sit, you don't so much as sit as you assume a runner's stance in the starter block. As soon as you are done, you have to grab your britches and lunge forward so that when it flushes you don't get soaked from the spray that will come out of that baby. Which is nasty to contemplate, no?

Get this- not every one washes their hands! I'll wait while you get over the skeeves.
.
.
.
So I walk in to the little anter room right outside the bathroom, see the light under the door. I wait my turn.
Three things happen:
1. The toilet flushes.
2. I think- about thirty seconds to washe hands and-
3. A man walks out.

This all happened in about two seconds.

Ewww.

He left the lid up, and the sink was completely dry, but he managed to turn off the light.

I grabbed a wad of paper towels, shut the door, locked the door, turned on the lights, lowered the damn seat, did my business. Washed my damn hands, grabbed more towels, dried my hands, used the towels to open the door, turn off the light, and then open the anter room door.

Gross, yuck, ickly, nasty, glech!

Some days I hate working with other people.

Special Priviledges

Want to hear a good story?

There is a "teacher" at my school who has been in the classroom for over 25 years now. I won't say "teaching" because that's not what is going on in there....
Said teacher regulary kicks students out of her class room, for a wide variety of transgressions. One kid got kicked out for laughing, another for eating an apple. We have such terrible students at my school!!
She doesn't send them to the office, just out. Which, by the way, is WAAAAYYYY against the rules.
She is in an educational cottage this year- or trailer, as we rednecks say- and she doesn't really care what the weather is like. One day, last fall, she told a girl to "Get out". Girls says, "I'm not leaving, it's raining." Teacher says, "Yes, you are." Teacher grabs her by the shoulders, and pushes her out the door.
And the most amazing thing about this?
That teacher still has a job and her teaching certificate.

Dream-teaching and tamales

I really must finish college. And quickly, if my dreams are of any portent. Last night, I dreamed... that I taught in my sleep- all night! And I was teaching something with math. And in my dream I had to keep waking up to check my math and make sure I was doing it right. And then, in my dreams, I had to go back to sleep and finish teaching the problem. And then I would start on another problem in my dream. Only to have to dream-wake to check my math, go back to sleep, and resume teaching.
I felt like I was up all night. I finally gave up about an hour before I was supposed to get up and lay in bed planning outfits, shopping lists, and beginning my speech I have to give in 13 days!

Of course, all this may have been because of the tamales I ate with dinner.

Sprung Break

Spring Break is here....I'm up to my eyeballs in work. No rest for the weary and all that.... but in a little over 90 days, count them- 90! Days!, I will be a college graduate (for the last time, I promise!).... All I have to do is keep from losing my shit between now and then...

My back porch is beeyooteefull- new adirondack chairs, umbrellas, and lots of flowers. Lots and lots of flowers! Saw my first humminngbird today. I'm trying to get the porch ready for my party this summer (you are all invited, bring beer and bloody marys). Bloody Bull mix would be nice.