Tuesday, August 12, 2014

A typical Tuesday night at our house


She wants to work as a personal trainer while she's in college. 

I guess this is the first step?

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Important facts about prepping for the upcoming school year-if you're me.

This week has been a flurry of decorating one of my two classrooms. I really need to be at school finishing up classroom #1 as I type this, but I'm waiting for my capri pants to dry since we can't wear shorts due to parents coming in and out of the school this week. I guess parents think teachers don't do heavy lifting, deep cleaning and redecorating in shorts. I wonder if they also think we live at school? 

Anywho, in this week of craziness, some points about me, decorating a classroom and possibly not being the brightest bulb in the box have been driven home. The following is a list of what I knew but now really know or what I have learned that will be so beneficial in the future:

  • I can't hang anything straight. I also can't cut straight or fold straight. This becomes especially annoying when I'm working by myself and the number of holes I can put in the wall really need to be kept to a minimum.
  • With the aid of a dolly, I can move a huge bookshelf by myself. With only the aid of an 11-year-old guiding me, I can also hit every wall, door and desk in the school with said bookshelf. 
  • When picking out certain things I want to put in my classroom, I've had to consider if the kids can make anything in it into something dirty, if a parent is going to get offended and if Beyonce is showing too much booty for it to be school appropriate. 
A time will come when a kid asks me who Metallica is
and I will weep.
  • I have no pictures of presidents to hang on my wall because someone defiled every single one of their faces on the posters that came with my room except Abraham Lincoln. Not sure why he got left out.
  • Someone was nice enough to add Obama to one poster, but put "Obama Care." Screaming, "Care is not his last name!" will make your 11-year-old roll his eyes at you.
  • I have the best reading corner ever.
  • Making a straight line with duct tape sucks. Probably due to point #1. However, a rather irregular border has been made around my desk that no one is allowed to cross. 
  • Making bulletin boards is fun. In theory. The actual execution is hard.
  • Stapling butcher paper while also holding it up sucks so much.
  • I put butcher paper over my light switch yesterday and there's a good chance I won't move it. We don't need light. 
  • I have to go back to Mardel's. They are the only people in a 10 mile radius who have lots of bulletin board borders. This impending trip led to a long conversation with my principal about how I sometimes cuss and feel it's wrong to cuss in the Christian bookstore. 
  • Mardel's isn't my favorite. 
  • I feel like not knowing the Pledge is going to be an issue this year since a) I teach social studies and b) we are supposed to say it as a class every morning. 
  • I think the pledge to the Texas flag is something that just got made up because I don't remember saying that in school. Granted, I don't remember the regular pledge, so maybe not. 
All that? Is just the tip of the iceberg. Trust me, there will be so much more once I finally get back at it today!

And school hasn't even started yet...

Sunday, August 3, 2014

We may need hearing aids to go along with our glasses.

The following is a re-enactment of the conversation we had at the supper table tonight:

Max: I'm going to try to get accepted to West Point.

Me: So, you're really going to do the military thing? Like, for real?

Max: I guess not since you obviously don't approve.

(Disclaimer: I have nothing against the military. However, Max is my child, so the thought of him having to go to war is terrifying. I'm also a pacifist. I joke a lot about being stabby and punching people in the trachea, but I don't even spank my people, tempting as it may be, because I really don't think violence is ever the answer. Please resist the urge to attack me.)

Me: Max, chill out. I'm sure you're going to do lots of things I don't approve of.

Grace: Yeah, like party.

Max: Pottery? Why wouldn't you want me to do pottery?

(Fast forward about five minutes after we made lots of jokes about pottery being a gateway craft and once he turns to whittling he's screwed.)

Max: I was watching this video on Steve TV about Twerking...

Me: Steam TV?!?!? What the hell does your dad let you watch as his house?

Grace: Steve TV, Mom. Not steam. What is wrong with you people? 

Don't act like you don't want to come over and have supper with this table full of near-sighted and apparently hard-of-hearing, bunch.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Sometimes I say things my kids will never, ever let me live down.

Yesterday, the kids and I made what was supposed to be a quick trip to Sam's. As so often happens when one ventures to Sam's, it was anything but.

Max was so over the entire thing, he started saying, really loud, while we were checking out, "It'll be quick, they said! We're only getting a couple of things, they said!" 

Grace saw the death stare come into my eyes and whisked him away to get an Icee-her treat.

But, once we got outside, he was still a little moody. Especially when I told him the model he wanted to buy would have to wait one more day because I let him get ice cream and it would melt before we got home if we stopped.

He was not pleased.

And I was frustrated.

So, I said, really loud, "Dude, I let you get ice cream!" Then I grabbed the roll of Jimmy Dean sausage I bought and began waving it around like a lunatic, "And, I bought you sausage because I know how you love a good sausage!" 

Grace stopped putting stuff in bags, due to laughing really hard and saying over-and-over, "You. Said. He. Likes. A. Good. Sausage."

Max couldn't even be mad anymore because a) he was too busy laughing and b) they now had something else to hold over my head.

For almost 24-hours, do you know how many times I've heard:

"Well, Max likes a good sausage."

"You know how much I like a good sausage."

"Maybe none of this would've happened if you'd just made a good sausage."

I have a feeling it's going to be a long time before I live this one down.

Monday, July 28, 2014

I bet Max is really glad to be home

As is so often the case of children with divorced parents, Max has spent the majority of the summer with his dad. He did go on a four day tour of Mississippi and Louisiana with Grace and I where, at the Vicksburg Battleground, he told Grace and I if Tammy was real it would be us because we're that trashy. 

Standing on the steps of a house on the battlefield hollering, "You yankees get out of my yard!" is not trashy. It's hilarious.

He obviously has no sense of humor. 

Trashy isn't the only thing this one earned us.
Whatever. Grace is so gangster, she's so thug,
he better not mess with her. Yo.

And I'm sure he was thankful when his dad pulled up to get him in yet another new-to-him-luxury vehicle because he's having some sort of mid-life crisis and has to get a different car every six months and this time it's a convertible, so he just looks ridiculous. 

But, after two long weeks away, my baby returned home for four days around 2:00 this afternoon.

In that time, I've made him touch my biceps. Twice.

I asked him if I looked like I lost weight. Being a far wiser man than his step-father, he said yes. He even said he normally doesn't notice weight changes in people, but I've really lost a lot. He's wise, that one.

I made him look at my biceps.

I told him to follow me to the "gun show." 

After a while, his face started to get that pinched look he got in Vicksburg, so I took him to get ice cream. 

Then I made him look at my biceps again. 

Mostly because they weren't this big last time he saw me.

And they're way bigger than his dad's.

He finally told me I looked like Hulk Hogan (I don't think he meant it), so I stopped. 

For today.

But, tomorrow night I have bootcamp...