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When you know it's time for a break...

Scene 1:

Student- "Mrs. Scott, She pushed me!"

Student 2- "Nuh uh! You poked me first!"

Me- "What grade do I TEACH?!?"

Students (blinking)- "ummm, 7th?"

Me- "HOW OLD are YOU?!?"

Students- "Ummm, 12."

Me- 'CORRECT!" You are not in kindergarten; stop acting like you are!"

Scene 2:

Me- "I'm going to give you 5 more minutes to work quietly, and then we're moving on; when I say stop, you will need to get your notes out and be ready to listen."

"Okay, you have 4 minutes left."

"Three minutes left, folks."

"Two minutes, please start wrapping up"

"Ok, you have one minute, you need to finish what you are doing and get out your notes, please."

"TIME! Please put that away and get out your notes."

"Ok, let's begin"

Student: "WAIT! I'm Still working!"

Me: "The direction was to stop and get out your notes, please do so, now.

STOP.

STOPPPP!"

(in a very calm and yet stern tone,) PLEASE put your pencil DOWN. STOP WRITING and get out your notes."

Student (still writing)- "But...I'm almost done!"

Me- "Put your pencil down NOW, get our your notes, I'm moving on without you."

Me- (turning to class) "Ok...let's begin." (and I begin giving the second part of the lesson, writing what I say on the overhead.)

Student-"WAIT! I didn't catch what you said, could you repeat it, please?"

Me- "Nope. You didn't follow the directions, you'll have to catch up when I’m done talking." (and then I continue the lesson.)

Student (to another student sitting across the aisle.) "Hey, what was the first thing she said?"

Me- "I have asked you to be quiet, stop and listen, do not interrupt him because you failed to listen and do what you were asked."

Student- “I’m just trying to take notes, geez!”

Me- “You are not following directions, you are being rude, and you have now taken time away from the rest of your class. If you interrupt me again, you will leave.”

Student sighs (in the most adolescent, annoying way possible)

Scene 3

Kids are working on an assignment, I’m circling the room, giving individual help.

Student- “Mrs. Scott, he took my pencil!”

Me- “Ok?”

Student- “Don’t you care?”

Me- “Not really, no.”

Student- “You don’t CARE he took my pencil?”

Me- “Basically, something like dealing with a pencil is not really at the top of my list of priorities right now.”

Student- (in a very high-pitched whine) “But he TOOK it! and now I can't WORK.”

Me- (while taking the stolen pencil and returning it to the whiner,)
“WHAT GRADE DO I TEACH?”

Students- “Siiigh.”

All I want for Christmas is a "wrong answer" buzzer for my classroom

Question: Explain and describe why the ancient kingdoms of Africa have disappeared?

Answer #1: "The ancient Kingdoms of Africa have disappeared. They have because the fall of the people. Also the empire."

Answer #2: "The ancient kingdoms of Africa have disappeared because of the war. Many people started to fight over traded goods. Or split in the religion, and many kingdoms move to different areas."

Answer #3: "The kingdoms of Africa have disappeared because there wasn't enough $ and the armys kept invading them."

In case you were wondering "About the empire" is my favorite part; makes me laugh out loud every time I look at it.

Bucket Head

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Evie after a long day with mom and dad!

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And now for another episode of "why teachers drink..."

Question: EXPLAIN why Constantinople was so important to the Byzantine empire. Be sure to answer you question completely by using examples.

Answer #1: "The Constantinople was important to the by Zantine empire because the king lived there and the pope and that was there capita."

Not sure of the king or pope to whom this student is referring, and also, it's BYZANTINE, not by Zantine.

Answer #2: Constantinople was important to the Byzantine empire because that is who they traded with."

Sigh...who is they?

Answer #3: Constantinople was so important because it lies on that Straight. Also it was the center of the trade crossroads. Constantinople had more trading power than most others."

Ok, we are on the right track; close but no cigar. By the way, the name of "that straight" is "BOSPORUS."

Answer #4: Constantinople was so important to the Byzantine empire because it was a natural crossrads of trade, so they made lots of money. It was also well located and easy to defend in an attack. It was basically the center of trade for the entire Midle East. It was also the empire's capital city."

Ok, so SOMEBODY was paying attention. WHEW.

Mommy needs a timeout

I need a timeout.

Evie is really sick. She had stayed home all week last week, as she was ill with a fever and a bad cough after returning from the trip to Texas. On Wednesday, Bryan took her to the pediatrician (he is off Wednesdays-Fridays) to make sure her cough was nothing more than a bad virus. They determined she had croup. By Friday, her fever and cough were far worse so he called me at work right at 3:15 to tell me he was taking her to get xrays. I left work and we met at the office; they had found a small spot in her lungs so they were putting her back on antibiotics.

The weekend was filled with crankiness, tears and very little eating. By Sunday, I was back on the phone with the on-call doc who told me my choices were to basically get enough fluids in her to get her to make a wet diaper, or she would have to go to the ER. So, I spent most of Sunday afternoon and evening trying to cajole her to drink, eat or suck on anything I could find: popcicles, jello, juice, washrags. Bryan was at work until nearly 11pm, so it was just me trying to get her to take something. When he got home? She happily ate some Jello.
We made it through the night, but just barely.

This morning, She still had consumed very little liquid and was generally cranky, so I called the pediatrician and made an appointment for 10am. The doctor listened to her lungs, looked in her ears, her eyes etc. After a thorough check-up, she determined Evie needed xrays again. Oh, and also, her ear is now infected, again....the antibiotic the other doctor put her on last week is too weak.

And so I took her back to the radiology department. However, today, they didn't just want one xray, they wanted a whole series of them. The technician met us out in the waiting room and explained to me that she was going to need to take a series of pictures which would require Evie be completely still. Yeah.

Evie's response? She crossed her arms and GLARED silently at the technician. I scooped her up, which caused crying. I then suited up in a lead bib and held her to try to calm her. When it was determined she was not going to calm down, we just began to arduous process wherein I had to help hold her in position, and hug her in between "shots." There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth during the session, however according to the technicians, she was doing very well comparatively.

When we were done, we left and headed home. Once we arrived home, she demanded a french fry, but I had none. So, being cranky, tired and sick, she decided the best way to handle her frustration was by throwing a fit. Not just a little crying, but a complete and total sitting in the in the driveway in the rain, kicking her legs and screaming at the top of her lungs so the neighbors would thing she was being abducted, kind of fit. It was completely wonderful.

I scooped her up and brought her inside as she arched her back, kicked and continued her protest up the stairs and in to her room. I put her on her bed, when suddenly her crying stopped and she said "boots off please, Mommy." I took her boots off and then she said "coat off too, Mommy."

It was at this point, I had to keep from laughing.

I took her coat off, put her blanket on her, and she then began to cry again, declaring she didn't want to go "nye night!"

I walked out of the room. She was silent in less than a minute.

20 minutes passed, and I heard her moving around, talking. I got up and when I got to the base of the stairs, she met me at the top, completely naked but her socks.

"I pooped, Mommy!"

I quickly went upstairs to find she had, in fact pooped. On the bed. She had removed the clean diaper, and then, ever so carefully, done her business right there on the little mattress on the floor (the one we are using as a 'just in case' mattress for rolling out of her bed.)

Apparently she could not get out of the room fast enough to seek assistance.

"I cweened it up, Mommy; is ok."

Yes, she had tried to clean it, again, with the majority of the wipes in the container. But no, it was not yet cleaned up.

And so, I cleaned up the mess, and my child, and then we washed our hands thoroughly.

Of course a nap was out of the question by this point, so I brought her back downstairs with me and we snuggled on the couch for a while and watched a Disney movie.

Things had calmed down for the most part until this evening, when she went into the kitchen. Now usually, her going into the kitchen is not a big deal. She will go in, I will call her and she will come back, no harm done. The drawers and cupboards have latches, the only thing she can really get into is the tupperware......or so I thought.

So she ran into the kitchen, and I said "Evie, what are you doing?"

Her response was "is ok Mommy, I be wight back!"

I head the scooting of the little step stool and a commotion. My friend Anna was here, dropping off papers my kids had done @ school today. I made a joke about what could Evie possibly be doing, and I slowly made my way to the kitchen, not yet alarmed (STUPID WOMAN THAT I AM.)

I found Evie, standing on the stool, Children's Motin in her hand; it was open.

She was smiling, brightly. "I dwink my medicine, Mommy!"

It was at this point I said a very, very bad word.

She just smiled at me. I grabbed the bottle, panicked. How did she open it? How did she get it? What the hell is the number for poison control?!?!

Anna came running in, I got the phone book out, cursing my husband for taking the emergency numbers paper off the fridge because it "didn't look nice on the new fridge."

Anna found the number while I cleaned Evie up and closed the bottle.

I called them "Thank you for calling poison control, if you are a medical professional, please press 1, if you are calling about an animal, please press 2, if you are calling about identifying a pill, please press 3. If you have any other questions, please press 4."

Pressing 4: "Oh for the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY!"

Poison Control: "Hello, thank you for calling poison control, how can I help you?"

Me: "Um, Hi, my daughter just drank some Children's Motrin."

Poison Control: "Oh, I need to transfer you, hang on please."

Me: Breathe, just breathe. She is happy, she is bouncing around, she didn't drink the whole bottle, she's fine. (Why the hell was the bottle on the counter, you idiot..you knew this was going to happen one day.....)

Poison Control: "Thank you for calling poison control, how can I help you?"

Me: "Hi, my daughter just drank Children's Motrin."

Poison Control: "Ok, don't panic."

And thus began the detemination that she had not consumed a toxic dose, but that she would need to drink some milk to coat her stomach and she may puke.

I then spent the next hour trying to get Evie to drink a glass of milk, but of course, this was the day of being contrary and generally horrible, so she refused. I resorted to a syringe and chocolate milk, because that was very exciting; it was that or holding her and pouring it down her throat...not the most stellar of ideas with an already pissy toddler.

Bryan got home, and she immediately asked him for a glass of water. I had not been able to get her to drink or eat anything. I hadn't pushed the issue, in fact I had opted to ignoring her, thinking perhaps it was a power struggle. If she asked, I would give, but every time I offered drink or food, she absolutely refused. Bryan walked in, and she happily accepted.

He then commented that he "couldn't understand why she does so well for him and yet she gives you such a hard time."

He followed this helpful observation up with "so other than the poopy accident, the xrays this morning, and the poison control thing, how come you had such a bad day?"

Like I said. I need a time out. In fact, I am taking a "quiet moment" right now to type this blog post, because people, if I wasn't typing this blog post? If I wasn't sitting quietly by myself, free from my Motrin-chugging, food-refusing, screaming toddler and my husband who makes "observations," I may just lose my ever-loving mind.

Daddy, where are Mommy's pants?

Scene: Sunday, 5:45 am

I had gone to bed in sweats, but in the night I had become too hot, so I had kicked off the bottoms and thrown them on the floor next to the bed.

I am asleep.

A face appears on my side of the bed, 6 inches from my face; it's Evie.

In a toddler-style whisper-yell, she says: "MOMMY! WAKE UP!"

Eyes are open.

Me: "Good morning, honey, how are you?"

Evie: "I good, you wake up now, Mommy."

Me: "Ohhhh, honey, it's early. Let's sleep some more."

Evie: "Mommy, I hungry, let's eat cee-wee-al."

Me: "Evie, it's very early, we can eat cereal in a little while, but we need to sleep some more."

Evie: "Mommy, I hungwy. Time to get up. I hep you."

She then proceeds to grab the covers off me and pulls them back. I am at this point giggling with her, it has become a game.

Me: "What are you doing? Those are Mommy's blankets!"

Evie: giggles, continues to pull the blankets back.

Suddenly, she gets the sheets to my waist and she stops, very seriously.

Evie: "MOMMY, wha happened?!?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

Evie: "MOMMY, where ARE YOUR PANTS?!? Where AHHHHRE DEY?"

Me: "Oh, I was hot, so I took them off."

Evie: (Scolding) "Ohhh, Mommy, Ohhh, nooo! Is ok, I find dem." She then ran away, and I watched her little floating head as it bobbed around the edge of the bed to Bryan's side.

Evie: "Hi Daddy!"

Bryan: "groan"

Evie: (Very seriously) "Daddy, Whare Ahre Mommy's pants?"

Bryan: (grunting) "what?"

Evie: (annoyed) "DADDY, WHARE ARE MOMMY's PANTS? You know?"

Bryan: leans over to me..."Umm, what is she talking about?"

Me: "Evie, honey, my pants are over here on the floor."

Bryan: "Why don't you have pants?"

Me: "Seriously? I was hot. Can't a person sleep with no pants without their entire family scolding them?

Meanwhile...
Evie: "Is okay Mommy, I get dem!"

I watched as her little head bobbed along while she ran back around the bed. She found the pants, picked them up and proceeded to try to put them on me.

Evie: "Mommy, you gotta stand up, I hep you get dwessed."

And so, our morning began earlier than we had hoped, all because I had no pants.

Evie enjoying the ACU Homecoming parade!

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Evie on her first flight in First Class on her way to Texas!

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Texas

Evie is taking her Daddy to homecoming this weekend...in Texas.

I will not be joining them as teachers aren't allowed to take vacations in the middle of the school week. Apparently we "get enough" vacation in the summer. Whatever.

Evie will be flying first class, because her father cashed in some airline miles, and more importantly, she's his little girl.

When he took me on our honeymoon, I rode in steerage next to the bathroom, and I had to hold the door closed with my foot as it kept slamming me in the elbow, but whatever. First Class for the two-year old? Makes perfect sense.

So what will I be doing while my husband is in Texas attending his college reunion/homecoming with our daughter?

I will be peeing alone.

I will be sleeping in the middle of the bed.

I will be eating anything I want, anytime of the day without somebody saying "I wann dat!"

I will be watching television at a reasonable level, or perhaps really loud, just because I can.

I will NOT be watching any programming that is offered by the Disney Channel, Nickelodeon or Public Broadcasting Network.

I will grade papers and not have any of them knocked off the couch, table or chair. Furthermore, nobody will steal my pens and try to draw on said papers, or the furniture.

I will go to the grocery store alone.

I will vacuum and nobody will scream and cry, declaring they are "sceeared."

I will do any and everything I can to distract myself from the fact that my baby and husband are thousands and thousands of miles away from me...in Texas.

Saying Goodbye to Puck

Yesterday, our beloved dog Puck moved to his new home. After an incident where he snapped at Evie, we came to the conclusion the two could no longer reside under the same roof. I put out a call for help and the parents of an old friend expressed an interest in our boy.

I received the following email from his new "mother," today; he has been with them for 24 hours and he seems to be doing very well:

"Puck is getting on very well. In less than 24 hours he has learned "Outside" and "Get the ball". He has already chased 2 different cats out of the yard; and put the fear of god into a squirrel. He is very smart; and has already figured out that if he lays at the top of the steps going up from the family room, he can keep an eye on me on 2 levels of the house without having to move.
We got him a small soft cloth-covered ball; and he will chase and "get the ball" about 6 times before he grows tired of the game.
He is also working me for Milk Bones on a regular basis. I think we will teach him to ring a door bell when he wants to come back into the house. Right now, he doesn't stay out very long. He seems to think I need supervising. He also enjoys laying by the French doors to the backyard, and watching the birds through the glass.
I know he will be thrilled when my husband comes home, and gives him another walk. He's so easy to bribe. :-P Right now I can hear him softly woofing - he must have seen another squirrel or cat in the yard."

While we are very sad to have had to say goodbye to our boy, we are thrilled he is happy and so well-loved by his new family.

Toddler Rave

We will, we will rock you!

Today

I am 30 today. I have been waiting for today probably since I was 12. It feels good, it feels right, it feels about the same; in my mind, I've been 30 for the last 18 years.

Today is also bittersweet, as it will always be for me. Four years ago, my Mom spent this day taking her last breaths, fighting her final fight, and asking, in a pain-induced stupor for the time. Over and over, she asked: "what time is it?" The day was spent trying to relieve her pain and get her calm; she was no longer really there; but every few hours, a brief moment of clarity and the demand for the time.

At midnight, she asked once more for the time, and we, the Hospice nurses and myself, who had been trying desperately all day to give her comfort that could not be found, told her the day had passed- it was now the 21st. With that, she stopped fighting, she stopped asking, and in a matter of 30 minutes, my Mom finally went to sleep.

So you see, my birthday is both beautiful and horrible. Touching and gut-wrenching. I spent my last birthday with my Mom, watching her fight to live so she would not die until the day after my birthday.

I remember her gift every day of every year.
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Quote of the day

My home room students were transitioning from their math class to music, but had to stop off in my room to drop off/pick up their stuff.

As they have very little time to get from one class to the next, I was standing in my door, saying "go to music, move quickly, run like the wind; LIKE THE WIND, I TELL YOU!"

Kids were laughing as they hurriedly grabbed their pencils and folders and scurried out the door to their respective music classes.

About 2 minutes passed, when one of the students came charging back in out of breath, and ran over to his desk in a panic.

I looked at him, confused, and said "what are you doing? MUSIC, go, now!"

He looked at me, while frantically digging through his desk and said,

"Mrs. Scott, I was so busy being like the wind, I forgot to grab my music folder."

This is why I love 7th graders.
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Current Events

Every week in my homeroom class, we talk about current events. Today, the very tragic murder @ Yale University was mentioned by a student, but my students had questions:

Student: "Mrs. Scott, I don't understand, how did they find her in the lab, but not until now? Wouldn't they see her if she was in the lab?"

Me: "Well that's tricky..."

Students: "What do you mean?"

Me: "Well....umm....her body was hidden."

Students: "Hidden....wait....what....where?"

Me: "I don't REALLY want to go into this guys, it's pretty sad..."

Students: "But where was she hidden, Mrs. Scott?!? HOW could they not find her body until NOW?!?

Me: "The investigators found her body in the wall; in an air shaft in the wall."

Students: "...."

Me: "It's a very sad story, folks, but there is a lesson to be learned. She was at her school lab, she was alone, and she didn't have her wallet or her phone with her; she left them in her office. What is the lesson we can learn from this story? What is it YOU all should remember from a story in a world where there are bad and scary people?"

Student: "Don't go to Yale!"
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Sick day

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Our dog does not play well with others.

Right now the side door to the garage is open, our dog can enter and exit to the backyard at her leisure; but she insists on standing on our deck, right outside our sliding glass door, frantically barking non-stop.

Why? The neighbor dog next door has had the audacity to walk around her own yard, calmly, without any regard for how this might affect anyone else.

She's just meandering around her own yard, sniffing the grass, inspecting the flowers, and every once in a while, she will gaze across her yard and make eye contact with our dog, through the fence.

This CAN NOT STAND!

The following is true for 7th graders at the beginning of the school year:

1.) They don't know how to stand in a line, walk in a line or stay in a line when asked.

2.) Not unlike their counterparts in elementary school, they will squeal if any living creature should appear in the classroom (i.e. spiders, bees, flies, beetles etc.)

3.) Even after the teacher has removed said insect, they will still have to discuss, compare and reflect upon the insect's visit to the classroom.

4.) Much like their younger counterparts, they cannot sit still in a chair for more than 30 minutes; it is physically impossible, apparently.

5.) The moment they return from lunch, they will need to use the bathroom. They will roll their eyes, and sigh in disbelief when you tell them they should have used the bathroom during their 40 minutes of lunch/recess.

6.) They will forget their day planner in the "other teacher's" class. They will roll their eyes and sigh in disbelief when you tell them they can't go back and interrupt "the other teacher's" class to get their day planner.

7.) They think sharpening their pencils down to numbs is absolutely fantastic; they will leave the pencil shavings all over the floor and table. They will roll their eyes and sigh in disbelief when you tell them to clean up the shavings.

8.) They will think having to trade their shoe as collateral in order to borrow a pencil from the teacher (when they "forget" theirs) is the most hilarious and fantastic thing ever.

9.) They will use too much tape to cover their books, will jam the stapler when turning in their assignments and will have to use the three-hole punch several times before they get the holes in the right spot. The will leave tape mess, ruined staples and the little hole remnants all over the table. They will roll their eyes and sigh in disbelief when told to go back and clean up the mess they made.

10.) If there is a hanging sign, a door jam or anything above their head; they will jump and slap it; they have to, it's just part of their genetic code. They will roll their eyes and sigh in disbelief when told to please NOT jump and slap things.

11.) They will do anything for candy.

12.) They will magically find it in themselves to sit quietly and pay attention for a lesson, if promised the ability to play a game when finished "learning." They will never discover the game is also educational.

13.) They will believe anything you say and will laugh if you do anything physically entertaining (like rolling your eyes or sighing in disbelief REALLY LOUDLY in their general direction.)

14.) They will NOT understand sarcasm.

15.) They are basically still pretty innocent.

In which I rant about "The Speech"

I keep meaning to blog about this, because, as you may imagine, I have much to say on the matter.

Trouble is, I am exhausted already and it is only Wednesday.

As such, I am going to make the following statements in regards to the President's Address to students. Allow me to preface by saying, yes as a school we did receive emails and calls requesting students not watch the President's speech, yes I did show it, and yes students were sent to an alternate location during the speech.

(In case you think my Uber-liberal bias is played out in class, let me assure you, I made no
comments during or after the speech and my students have no idea of my political affiliation;
last year during and after the election, my students never knew for whom I was voting.
Teachers are excellent actors.)

In regards to the Presidential Address and the "backlash" there-in, I would like to say-

1) It's public school.

2) He is the American President, democratically elected.

3) This was not the first time an American President has addressed the American school children, President H.W. Bush gave a similar speech broadcast from a high school in Washington, D. C.; he did this in 1991.

4) As President Thomas Jefferson said, "Information is the currency of democracy."

If we believe in American democracy, how is it then, that we can justify removing our children
from classes in their public school because our democratically-elected President has declared
his intention to give a speech on the importance of education?

5) It's public school; and also, he's the President of the United States of AMERICA.

6) If you disagree with a person's politics, particularly the President's,how is removing your
child from school, preventing them from listening to him give a speech on education, teaching
them anything? Instead perhaps, why not have a discussion with your child about why you
disagree with the President and allow them to listen to the speech with discerning ears? Then,
discuss the speech with your child afterword and explain why you agree or disagree with what
is said.

7) He's the President of the United States; it's public school.

8) What is dangerous about the President wanting to give students a speech about the value of
education? Do we NOT value education? Never mind, don't answer that.

9) Regardless of the man (or woman) holding the office, the office should command some
respect. If the President of the United States says he wants to address the children of the
nation, it must be something important and quite possibly, something worth hearing. Perhaps
we should remember our history and treat the office with a little more respect.

--sidenote. Those of you who know me, know I was not happy with the previous
President. However, I always referred to him as President (instead of just his first or last
name as so many tend to do) and I still believe regardless of my opinion of him as a man,
he was our leader and as such I respected his position during his tenure.


10) Public. School.

Timeout

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Puck needs a new home

Our dog Puck, a Malinois-shepherd mix is known to most in our lives as “the coolest, goofiest dog in all the land.” We rescued this charming fellow as a puppy four years ago. He was found abandoned under a house in Los Angeles and my husband brought him home from the shelter while he was working in LA on a business trip. We took him to obedience classes, were he graduated top of his class, we took him to the doggie park where he made friends. We took him on walks, to the lake and on the boat.

He can sit on command, he will stay when he feels inclined, or if you REALLY push the issue.
He can give you a high five, and enjoys ballroom dancing.
He plays soccer, and likes to run down the slide on the play set in our back yard.
He especially enjoys lying in the sandbox.
He has no skill for catching a ball.
He will lay his head on your leg and stare at you with his big brown eyes for hours; he loves spooning, although he is accustomed to sleeping on the floor
He enjoys peanut butter, milk bones and most other treats; he will not eat vegetables.
He is a wimp. Case in point: he chased and caught a rabbit in our back yard; the rabbit kicked him in the face so he (Puck) yelped in fear and released the rabbit; Puck then ran and hid under the deck.

He was “the baby,” that is, until we had our daughter. Then, because we have a small house and because he’s a big galoof, we made the choice to move him out to the backyard (or furnished/carpeted garage) during the day, while she was little. He was big and awkward and I was afraid he would knock the baby over; plus I wasn’t a big fan of my baby crawling through dog hair. Well, everything seemed to be fine, but she is now two; a very bright a cheery toddler who likes to say “hi” and play with her doggie. We have taught her to be gentle and never to get in a dog’s face. A few weeks ago however, he walked up to her, she tried to pet him on his back and he flipped around and snapped at her. This was unprovoked and unexpected and it scared us. We took him to the vet and met with our dog trainer and all have concluded he is probably jealous of our daughter and came to be impatient with her. Obviously a jealous dog and a busy toddler are not a safe combination; they cannot be together anymore.

We are obviously devastated but we can’t really live a life where a toddler wants to play with the doggie and the doggie has to live in quarantine outside, wanting to come in. It’s not fair to him or her.

We are hoping and praying a good and friendly single person, couple or family with older children/ no children will want a nice, medium-sized friendly dog that has a long life yet to live. He shouldn’t be with little ones, as he is rambunctious and it seems, a little impatient with them. However, he would be a wonderful friend to a group of rowdy older kids who need an extra soccer player, or a big buddy to flop with on the floor during movie night. He would love someone to take him for a walk or a run every now and again but he’s just as content watching TV with his people. He’s very smart and very agile and could be trained for agility or as a working dog very easily, he is eager to learn and have someone work with him.

He has had all his regular check-ups at the same Vet. since he was 8 weeks old; he has weighed right between 67 lbs consistently. He stands 23” tall (@ the shoulder.)

Please let us know if you are interested in meeting him.

Stubborn

It was dinner time, but Evie was not interested in eating dinner. I told her to sit at the table, she ignored me. I squatted down to her face and told her again, it was time to sit at the table and eat dinner.

Me: "Please sit in your chair, it's time for dinner."

Evie: "NO!"

Me: "Evelyn, sit at the table now please; if you do not sit at the table, you will go sit in timeout."

Evie: (thinks for a moment...) "I go to time-out."

Me: "Ok, go sit on the step."

She ran to the step and sat there until I walked over and released her, at which point we had the obligatory "You were in timeout because you didn't listen to Mommy" conversation, I then told her to go sit at the table, which she did.

Sitting at the table, eating, Evie looked at me and said:

Evie: "I go-ed to timeout"

Me: "Yes, you did go to time-out. Why did you go to timeout, Evie?"

Evie: "Because I no listen."

Me: "Yes, that's right, you didn't listen. You need to listen to Mommy."

Evie: "Dat's wyte!"


Tonight, Bryan was doing bedtime duty and told her it was time to give me a "night-night hug"

Evie: "I dun wanna have a Mommy hug"

Bryan: "Ok, let's go to bed, then."

Evie: (reconsidered, and then ran toward me,) "I wanna Mommy hug!"

Ragan & Julie's wedding

My cousin Ragan married his long time friend Julie this weekend...finally. :-)


It was by far the most beautiful wedding I have ever attended.

For ease, I posted the photos on my Facebook page, as I could upload them all at once, just click on the link and enjoy.

Julie and Ragan's wedding Photos.

*****

I got the job!

I am now officially employed with the University Place School District, a full time, contracted teacher.

Hooray!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The truth and only the truth

I stole this from Elizabeth:

True confessions that will confirm to some that perhaps I don't do what I "should..."

1) I don't force Evie to eat vegetables, truth be told, I rarely even give her the option these days...I have too many memories of gagging and crying at the table as a kid

2) Evie can give you turn by turn directions to McDonalds

3) I rarely dust

4) I vacuum when only when I see the dog hair

5) When Bryan is at work, I give Evie real food and then after she is in bed, I eat cereal for dinner

6) I only clean the guest/Evie's bathroom if we are actually having guests, otherwise it is completely ignored (she's still in diapers, what does she care?)

7) I have re-washed loads of laundry because I forgot that I left them in the washer

8) I have cocoa pebbles that I hide in the back of the pantry so Evie won't see them

9) I also have a hidden stash of peanut m &ms

10) On Saturday mornings, I will let Evie eat breakfast in the living room or in my room so I can lay down a little while longer while she watches Elmo and other various cartoons

Hoping

I have an interview today, it will be my second interview of this week; the second interview,the second school.

Monday, I met with the hiring committee of the school where I completed my teaching internship years ago; I know the staff and love the community obviously, as it happens to be my own. The downside however, is that the position is not quite full time and thus my pay and medical benefits would be compromised.

Today, I meet with the hiring committee for the school where I served as a teacher for the past year. Last year I was on a temporary contract, the position is now a full-time continuing contract. I would have a classroom of my own, I know the curriculum and I know the community.

Both are excellent opportunities and in this economy, I will be thankful for any employment as a teacher. I am just hoping something will work out.
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On being a working mother…

I am currently in the process of applying for teaching positions for the 2009-2010 school year. I taught last year on a temporary contact and then there was the budget crisis and thus I find myself here in August without a job. I am told things should work out, but yet I remain without a contract and thus filled with angst about my future.

As I have yet to find employment, it has been gently suggested to me by some well-intentioned individuals, that perhaps this would be a good opportunity for me to stay home with our daughter, to “get her out of daycare.”

I smile and nod and then I walk away when things like that are said to me. I try not to take offense, although I know what is being said; that in fact, my daughter’s life, her upbringing, and her childhood is somehow compromised by my/our decision to place her daily care in the hands of “strangers.” She will in fact turn out damaged and somehow mentally, emotionally or behaviorally stunted because she is in daycare instead of staying home with me all day. I understand because until a year ago, I thought the same thing.

It was one year ago that Bryan and I made the decision that I would return to work. I had stayed home for a year, and although we had originally thought I would stay home longer, I was feeling anxious to return to the work force. While our financial situation was a consideration, my own need to work took precedent. While things were pretty tight, ultimately I did not go back to work because I had to, I went back to work because I wanted to. Also, we felt our daughter could benefit from being around other people beside myself. She seemed bored with me most days, and although I tried to stimulate her with games and songs, she thrived whenever she was in a setting with many children. And thus, the hunt was on.

The first few daycares we visited were horrible. They were big, impersonal corporate institutions. I left one crying, convinced I would never leave my child to languish in such a place, grieving for the people and children who were forced to use such facilities.

And then, on a whim, we drove up to a little place I had passed on my way home from work in years past. It was adorable, it was small, and it was privately owned. We rang the bell, and a young teacher opened the door: bright colors greeted us and perfectly appointed cubbies with each child’s name adorned the walls in the entryway. We walked in and were immediately greeted with open arms. The small staff seemed to not only know each of the children in their three small classes, but they seemed to love them as their own. This was the place for us.

However, I was still not completely comfortable with our decision. I was happy to be getting back to work, but there was still a part of me that was worried about what kind of “damage” we and ultimately I would be doing to my daughter. It was about a week later, I was sitting in my doctor’s office, getting my annual check-up, when she asked who would be taking care of our daughter when I went to work. I replied, sighing, with a bit of a sad tone, “daycare.” She looked up at me, looked me right in the eye and said, “well I was a daycare kid my whole life, and I think I turned out ok.”

She then asked me “Do you like where she is going?

Me: “Yes, very much.”

Dr. “Do you feel she will be safe? Will she be mentally stimulated, will she get to play, eat and nap regularly?”

Me: “Yes.”

Dr. “Well then, she’ll be just fine, how she turns out is up to you.”

It was then that I realized my attitude about daycare was unfounded; while she may go play with some kids and be with a teacher for a few hours each day, I am still her mother and her father and I are still responsible for how she is raised.

It has been a year since we enrolled our daughter in that small daycare/preschool facility and we have seen her thrive. At the age of two, she already knows her alphabet, her colors, can count past ten and can sing a variety of children’s songs. Not only is she learning, she is happy and well adjusted. She loves going to “school” every day and I know she is safe and being well cared for. She loves her teacher and is being challenged and learning daily, perhaps more so than if she was home hanging around the house with me all day.

This is not to say that staying home is not important, I have many friends and family members who have chosen to stay home with their children and I applaud them and respect them. What I am saying is that MY staying home was not a good fit for our family. I did not feel like I was serving her or my husband well by staying home. I feel I am a more effective and better mother and wife when I also work outside the home.

What I find troubling however, is when this choice is treated with disrespect and even sometimes, disdain. As if I have somehow violated a sacred bond of sister or motherhood. It was somehow acceptable when I said, “I work because I have to work, we can’t afford it otherwise.” It is not acceptable however, if I say, “I work because I want to, I work because I’m a better wife, mother and woman.”

Furthermore, why is it that now, in 2009, when in many families it is the women makes more money than the man, it is still the woman who is chastised for whatever decision she makes? If she stays home, she is “just” a stay-at-home Mom. If she goes to work, she “abandoned” her child.

How about instead of worrying about what everyone is doing, we just agree, “we’re all doing the best we can” and support one another as such?

In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy my daughter every moment and enjoy the time I am working as well, for I am truly blessed to have the privilege to be able to do both.

Wiped out

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Miss Independent

Evie still hadn't gone to sleep. We went into her room, to find her standing at her bed emptying the wipes container, cleaning her bed.

Bryan started to scold her about not "playing" with wipes when I scanned the room and told him to wait...there was trouble afoot.

Her mattress was soaked, her diaper was dangling between her legs. Apparently it had leaked all over her bed; she was trying to clean it up.

I said to her, "Evie did your diaper leak?"

She said "yeah, I cwean it"

Me: "Oh, that's ok honey, Mommy can help you. If you have a problem, you say "Mommy help, please"

Evie: "Ok, Mommy, hewp pwease!"

I'm happy she's so independent, but I'm not looking forward to future accidents she decides she can handle herself.

Things Evie has done/said in the last week

Evie has morphed from a bright-eyed two year-old into a full fledged talking child, speaking in full, complete 7-8 word sentences in the last week. It's terrifying and exciting all at once.

Here are some of the phrases she has spoken, things she has done in the last week:

1.) After arriving home from a few days in Wenatchee, she was very excited to see "her Porshie and Puckie" however, as soon as she saw them, she immediately became the queen of the room and began handing out directives and toys."

"Porshie, sit here, Puckie, go way, NOW!" Porshie, hewr, I hab a bawl for you; No Puckie, you no take id! You can no hab it! Go away, dat's bad!"

This went on for about 20 minutes, giving toys to Portia, denying privelages to Puck. When I tried to explain to her that she should share with both doggies, she said "No mommy, Puckie take da ball!" Which, in fact, is pretty true, he does always take the ball. So I guess she was handing out some swift toddler justice.

2. Wanting something off her toy shelf:
Evie: "Mamma, I wan dat!"

Me: "Well then, get it"

Evie: "But I can't weach it!"

I grab her bench and push it next to the shelf so she can reach...

Evie: "Ok, I get it! Is better!"

3. Watching Mary Poppins (the scene where she sings the kids to sleep)

"Ohh, Mommy, I dun want to go to bed!"

Me: "That's ok, you don't have to go to bed"

Evie: "She say go sweep, I dun want to go to sweep!"

4. Some famous Evie phrases:

"Oh nooooo, wha happend?

"Dadddy, where arrrre, you?"

"Oh no, where is it? Where did it go?"

"Das funny!"

"Hey Porshie, Cmere!"

And my all-time favorite:

"I need a mommy Hug."

Sooo..whatever happened to Stephanie's brain?

Apparently, I have been slacking off in the blog department, especially in regards to updates on my brain.

Here is the very speedy update, as I have little patience to write any more about it.

I went to the doctor three weeks ago, I guess it was. Huh, that was fast.

Anyway, yes, three weeks ago. I finally saw the specialist, the magnificent specialist who I was told would be wonderful and magical and the "female Dr. House."
"She will find out what is wrong with you," they told me.

And so I believed them and I went, and I talked. She asked a litany of questions and sat there with a very concerned and interested face. She quizzed me on the history of my "seizures," how they start, what they feel like, when they happen etc.

I explained they have only happened in accompaniment of a change in hormone levels (miscarriage, birth, change in birth control etc.)

She then asked what they looked like, at which point my girlfriend Anna took over, who was there that fateful day when I "died" in the ambulance. She gave the full run-down, describing at length what I looked like, the sounds, the thrashing etc. It was unpleasant and embarrassing for all of us, but it had to be done.

We spoke for about 15-20 minutes, then she began to explain, very calmly how an EEG works, and how I had a "seizure" while having an EEG and nothing showed up, which meant I am not epileptic. She then gave me a very long speech about the brain and how even the best neurosurgeons only know 20% of what the brain can do, yada yada, and basically, what it comes down to is "they don't know."

The theory is: hormone changes+stress= wicked migraine. Wicked migraine= Stephanie has a non-epileptic seizure. Apparently some people in horrendous pain can, at times, have seizure-like activity as the body's way to release the pain. Who knew?

So, I continue taking the mega doses of migraine/anti-convulsing meds. I can't feel my hands, because, well that's a side effect of the migraine medication. Yippee.

As for the "non-epileptic seizures," well, I have something now I can take that "should" stop them. Also, I need to be aware when I have hormone changes, and major stress in my life.

Thanks for the tip, Doc.

And that's what is up with me. I am now driving again, huzzah, and other than tingling legs and hands, I feel fine.

Someone get this boy a medal...

You know there are moments in every teacher's life when you really want to just smack a kid upside the head. Then there are moments when you want to hug them. Other times, you are astounded, not by their brilliance, but really, truly astounded by what they said or wrote, and cannot believe they had the audacity to do it.

Tonight, that happened and it's just too funny not to share.

I had students self-rate their final papers.

One student, (who is really "miffed" he earned an A- on his last paper,) had the following responses on his self-assessment: (I have included all punctuation and spelling as he wrote it, for full effect.)

Content: "My Content is flawless. I have 3 main ideas that Work in Unison. Better than other peoples Paper's ideas."

Organization: "I used perfect arguments. Other people's are awkward or choppy mine flow perfectly with each other."

Style: "My writting/ideas are the best in the class. Other people's paper lack high quality writting, but still get better grades somehoW.

Conventions: "There are No Spelling or misplaced Words, While other people can't spell easy Words."

Overall: I've put in the hardest work possible for this. Other people talk and are lazy, While I've worked my butt off for this. Other people's explanations are short and not sood quality, While I did everything possible to "explain" myself. My intro & Conclusion is long/detailed, While other people's are short. I got an A+."

Strengths: "I have the best writting not because of skill or hatural talent, but because of my Work ethic. I convee my ideas and have a sound voice. Other people's writting suck, but they fit the "criteria," and get good grades anyway."

Weaknesses: "Nothing. The only part could be considered "week' is not doing every nitpicky thing to fit the criteria. Other people's writting is nowhere as good as mine but get equal grade because they fit the "criteria." The criteria doesn't alway recognize good writting.

Goals:
1. Get A+ Forever
Action Plan: I will use pre-writing web, rough draft and all the steps
2. Never get A-
I'lll try to git the "criteria" even if that means lessening the quality of my writting

Is it wrong I want to respond "Yes?"

We are working on editing and revising papers today. I gave explicit instructions, (three times,) including writing them on the board. Of course that means nothing to high school boys.

Student: "Mrs. Scott, what do I do when I am done getting my paper edited (by a fellow peer)?"

Me: "Revise the edits."

Student: "What do you mean?"

Me: (trying not to lose it, since I JUST gave a lesson on how to revise, including a full demonstration with a student's paper; never mind that they have been revising since the 7th grade and these are juniors and seniors in high school.)

"Fix what is wrong, go back through, erase or cross out misspellings, put in transitions, change/replace words with better and/or stronger words, etc."

Student: "So you want me to write my final draft now?"

Me: "No, not yet, you are revising your rough draft right now."

Student: "I don't understand."

Me: "That's because you weren't listening."

Student: Blank "......"

Me: "Go through your rough draft, and on your rough draft, make revisions, cross out or erase and fix it. Then read through it again and make sure it flows. That's called revising."

Student: "So you want me to rewrite my whole paper?"

Me: "What did I just say?"

Student: "I don't know"

Me: (sighing heavily, trying not to throw my shoe and/or stapler at his head) "I really need you to listen to the directions"

Student: "I don't understand"

Me: "I can only help you if you listen you are not listening to me"

Student: "So am I writing my final draft now?"

Me: "NO."

Student: "What am I doing?"

Me: "Fix the edits on your paper, do you see here, all the things people marked as wrong, or need improvement on your paper? All that stuff written all over your paper in different colored ink? What you need to do is take your pencil (pick up your pencil, pick it up...) ok, now fix it...literally, on your rough draft. Like here, you spelled this word wrong, so you need to cross it out and fix the spelling...(go ahead, do that now...)

Student: "Right now?"

Me: "Yes.

Student: "Am I re-writing the whole paper, again right now?"

Me: DON'T re-write it, DON'T write your final draft, just cross out or erase the problems and revise the rough draft."

Student: "So, what am I doing, then?"

Me: glaring...."You need to go sit down now"

Student: "But I don't understand what I'm doing."

Me: "Sorry, you'll have to ask somebody else, now."

Student stomped off, dejected, but somehow, miraculously figured it out.



Later, at the end of class, (this is summer school, so they have class for four hour blocks a day...we revised our papers, then we re-read them, then we wrote the final drafts.)

I have written on the board the following:

"Stack your paper in the following order (bottom to top)
-rough draft including revisions (bottom of the stack)
-final draft
-self-assessment sheet, (completed)
-final scoring rubric sheet (blank)

Staple all together and turn in to Mrs. Scott by 11:30 today."

I then made them all put their pencils down, look at me so I could see their eyes (so I knew at least they were watching me) and demonstrated how I wanted them to turn in their final paper.

At the end of the day, the SAME student handed me his stack, in the opposite order, with no rough draft. I handed it back to him and said:

Me: "This is not correct, if you want me to grade it, you need to read the directions on the board and stack this properly, with all the required pieces.

Student: "It is TOO correct!"

Me: "You are missing your rough draft there, Sir."

Student: "You NEVER said I needed a rough draft...."

Me: I quietly walked over the board, pointed at the words "ROUGH DRAFT" and said "Don't argue with me, Anymore. It's obnoxious."


This evening, I received a text message, from the SAME student.

I had given my cell number (not home phone) to my students at the beginning of the semester to be used in emergencies only, as in, you or your parents are in the hospital, (which actually happened.)

His text message?

"Did I fail the class?"

He currently has a C-, although I haven't yet graded his final paper. He is most likely going to hold at a C-, or drop to a D+.

The question remains however, given the events of today, and his text that is an obvious abuse of my kindness (and beyond annoying,) is it wrong that I want to reply "yes?"

Tomorrow is my Mother's birthday...

Tomorrow is my Mother’s birthday; she would be 50. I am not really sure how to feel. Perhaps more accurately, I am overcome with a flood of conflicting emotions. There is the obvious feeling of emptiness and grief that continues to sit just beneath the surface; that which I try not to think about too much, but will every once in a while get the better of me. The feeling only those who have lost someone so very close, so very connected to them can understand. It is a feeling that a part of you has also died and will always remain empty in their absence.

But I also feel, in some strange way, that maybe she has finally been released from a lifetime of suffering and anguish. Hers was not a charmed or enjoyable life, plagued with loss, disappointment and illness, she endured much for a woman of so few years. It seemed such a great tragedy that, when she finally seemed to be rising above and breaking the chains of disappointment, she would fall ill and lose her life.

Perhaps however, it was grace after all. For she no longer has to suffer and endure the pains of a life in a broken world.

So while tomorrow will be difficult as her absence is made all the more conspicuous on her birthday, I can still feel some peace in the hope that she is now in a better place; finally relieved of the pain of her troubled life.

What’s more, I have the joy of knowing I have the wonderful gift of my daughter; another chance for our family to try to raise a little girl into a strong and beautiful woman. I have every confidence my Mother is watching and guiding me as I go, if now only in my own heart.

Happy 4th of July!

Evie and I went to my friend's Anna's for the day to enjoy the 4th. Bryan joined us after work. We brought over Evie's little inflatable pool, and she enjoyed splashing most of the water out and getting her face wet. I'd call the day a success.

Pictures from Evie's Birthday!

Here are just a few teasers!!!

Poor guys never had a chance

At Evie's "school," there is a little boy with whom she shares a love-hate relationship. Since she started going a year ago, they have been firmly devoted to one another, and (we are told,) the mood of the day for the entire class can be determined by how the couple have been getting along.

When Bryan went to drop Evie yesterday, she was being particularly clingy to her daddy. So, her little friend, (I'll call him "C") climbed down from his chair, walked over and gave her a hug. Evie responded, in pure two year-old female dramatic fashion, by grunting at him. Bryan then said, "oh Evie, isn't that nice, "C" is giving you a hug!" She grunted again. "C" then hugged her from behind and proceeded to stand quietly by, petting her arm, saying "is okay Evie, I here...."

Bryan then said, "Evie, why don't you say hi to "C" he wants to play with you..."

She grunted.

"C" tried to hold her hand, she recoiled in coy annoyance.

Bryan then suggested she play "Ring around the Rosie" with "C," this, she could not resist. She twirled around and announced, "Hey C, Ring 'Round Rosie!" Excited to finally be getting some attention from his beloved, "C" happily obliged her.

And so the two grabbed hands and twirled and twirled and danced, happily giggling around on the little carpet.

Evie looked up at Bryan and said, "Okay, Bye Daddy! See ya later!"

Bryan left, happy she was no longer "upset," but dejected she could so easily dismiss him for her other male suitor.

It frightens me, really, how much power this tiny little girl already wields over the males in her life.

I now understand my mission: trying to teach her to use her powers for good instead of evil.

A Bittersweet End

On Friday, my first "official" school year came to a close. It was a rather bitter-sweet end as I currently have no continuing contract thanks to budget cuts. It was also tough due in large part to a difficult job-sharing situation with a teacher who was completing an administrative internship and basically left all the teaching, grading, counseling etc. to me, but with half the pay and no respect.

I have spent most of the year working in a partnership with a person whom students have adored for years, who this year could not give them the time of day. I have been the teacher, the mentor, and the mom in a shared-custody agreement; I am the one doing the regular mundane every day tasks, and he would show up once a week and take them to Disneyland.

It's been a very tough year for me, but I have plodded on day in and day out, hoping my own efforts would in fact teach them, somehow make a difference in their young lives.

As I stood there (alone) at the honor roll assembly, I looked at my young students and felt a mixed blend of relief and sadness wash over me. Relief I would no longer have to endure the shenanigans and inconsistencies of my teaching partner (who was again not there,) sadness that I would no longer get to work with and teach my kids as they were moving on, and I was out of a job due to budgets.

There was one student in particular with whom I worked all year long. The student started out very slow and was often not even showing up to school. The student happens to be an athletic prodigy but had some emotional stuff to work through. The student had determined that they could get through school on their talent alone.
I thus had a "come to Jesus" meeting with the kid, sitting them down and telling the story of a young athlete I know, whose athletic career came to an end after they were hit in a tragic car accident. I explained that my friend, who was no longer able to play sports, still went to college however, because they were not only a good athlete, but also an excellent student. I then asked my student, "what's your plan B?" We talked again, days, weeks. And soon the student began to understand that everybody needs a backup plan. So I made a deal with the kid, "you get yourself on the honor roll and stay there, and I will come to your high school graduation and sit with your mom and cry my eyes out. Wherever you are, I will come and I will cheer for you; I'll write letters of recommendation, I'll call colleges on your behalf. Get yourself on the honor roll, stay there and then you'll not only have your athletic scholarship, you'll have an academic one as well.

After some constant follow up and encouragement from me and a commitment of hard work from them, that student not only finished strong, but finished with honors, both semesters; I was beaming.

What was surprising however, was that the mother of the same student came up and thanked me, not just for believing in her child, but for sticking with the kid and "helping" the child realize their own potential. There were tears, and I was very taken back by the gratitude and kindness. More so when the student came running up and hugged me. Then, they both said, "wherever you are Mrs. Scott, we're going to find you, so you can know how I'm doing."

To which I responded, "I'm counting on it."

Following her, another parent and their child did the same.

It was then I realized regardless of the inconsistencies and frustrations of my teaching partner, I did make a difference in these kids' lives, at least a few.

And so I end my year sad, but hopeful. I still don't know where I will be next year, but I am hopeful that something will eventually work out.

I completely stole this entire post idea...

I have never met Holly Burns, although I read her blog regularly. I like to think, should we ever happen to cross paths one day, we would immediately form an impenetrable bond of sisterhood and wonder how it was ever possible we weren't friends before.
Yesterday she wrote a post entitled "A Partial List of Things the Rest of the World Seems to Love and Yet Towards Which I Remain Curiously Lukewarm." I found it both hilarious and very intriguing and decided I would make my own. Because I'm a follower and it is the last two weeks of school and thus I have no original thoughts in my head as of late.

Enjoy.

My list of things the rest of the world seems to love and yet in which I am rather disinterested...

*Twilight

*Sushi

*High Heels

*White Capris

*Harry Potter

*Peasant Blouses

*Hummus

*Designer handbags (or a replica thereof)

*Oprah

*Las Vegas

*Cameron Diaz

*Guacamole

*The DaVinci Books

*Convertibles

*Celebrity reality shows

Pictures of Evelyn!!!

Many of you have been asking for new pictures of Evelyn. This has been challenging lately as work schedules have been crazy and Steph's computer is on its way out and our little Canon Powershot is no more.... : (

However for an early Father's Day present, Steph bought Bryan a new Olympus digital camera so we can get some new pictures and video clips to share with everyone! Here are some of the first pics Bryan took while playing with the camera for the first time.

Obviously

Anna, Evie and I went to Costco today. When we were done shopping, we decided to treat ourselves to a little frozen yogurt.

While sitting on the little red food court bench, Evie was bouncing around, chatting up a storm when suddenly she pat the bench and said "Hey Bella, sit here!" (Or at least that's what I thought she said.)

I looked at her and said, "Is Cinderella here?"

Evie looked at me like I was absolutely crazy and said "nooooooooo, Mommy!"

So I said, "Oh, I'm sorry, where IS Cinderella?"

Evie looked at me, rolled her eyes, put her hands up in the air with indignation and said, "she's in da moveee!"

Obviously.

Evie on here way to the zoo!

Evie coloring witg Anna.

Evie coloring!

Evie going down the slide.

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Evie on the slide!

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And now for another episode of "Why teachers drink..."

In my 7th grade social studies class, we have been studying the Renaissance for oh, the past month. After giving them the chapter review, holding discussions on the key elements/themes of the chapter, we played Jeopardy last week. The Jeopardy questions were actual test questions; the kids took the test the following day. They BOMBED it.

So, thinking perhaps we didn't prep them enough, or between the two of us (I partner -teach) there was too much lag time in information, my partner spent Wednesday -Friday of last week re-reviewing with the students, making sure they REALLY understood the important information and themes.

They re-took the test today, and I am grading tonight. Most students are doing much better however a few obviously still didn't study.

I came across this answer and couldn't help but share it:

Question: Why was northern Italy a natural birthplace for the Renaissance? In your answer, explain what the Renaissance was.

Answer: (all spelling and grammatical errors left unedited for full effect.)
"Northern Italy was a natural birthplace for the Renissainse beacause, The Renissaince is the time where everyone started liking art. the 16th chapel is where everyone started to like art. Then it was built in Italy. After that, it (art?) started building. That is Why Italy is the natural birthplace."

I can't decide which part is my favorite, the absolutely WRONG answer, the misspelling of the word Renaissance, (the spelling of which is typed on the test above the answer,) or the fact that this student refers to Michelangelo's masterpiece as "the 16th chapel," apparently a place where everyone started to like art.

Excuse me as I go pour myself a stiff drink and cry for a while.

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Evie singing along with Cinderella

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The first casualties of the potty

As I was growing up, my parents both used to tell a story about how, when I was around two years-old I had a tendency for flushing things down the toilet. The most famous story told was a tale of how I found my father’s wallet the day he cashed his paycheck and systematically flushed each bill down, one at a time. They came to this discovery only after they heard a flush followed by the sound of my toddler giggling, and the phrase “uh-oh.”

As has been proven in photos, Evie is my tiny clone. It seems however, she is not only my clone in looks, but also in actions. Last night when I was getting her ready for bed, I could not find her toothbrush, which usually sits on the back of the bathroom counter in a small cup. I looked all over the bathroom, her bedroom, my bedroom, the bathtub, they were nowhere to be seen. Finally I noticed the lid to the toilet was closed over the top of her small potty-seat adapter. Suspicious, I opened the lid, and there, soaking in the toilet, was her toothbrush, her cup, a plastic action figure from Mcdonalds and her “radio,” a small rubberized mp3 player for kids that we had just recently purchased for her.

All were taking a swim inside the porcelain bowl, and from what I could tell, they had been in there for quite a while.

I looked at Evie, who was standing next to me, peering over the side of the toilet; I asked her, “Evie, did you put these in the toilet?” She looked up at me with her big hazel eyes, and very seriously explained “Dey go potty, Mommy; dey go potty, in dere.”

Indeed.

Visions of my future, memories of my past

I took Evie up to bed this evening and as I do every night, I sang "you are my sunshine" to her, a song that was sung to me as a child. We sang together, we gave each other hugs and kisses, I arranged her blanket(s- she has 3 she likes to rotate through the night) and I tucked her in.
Immediately, upon laying her down on her little toddler-sized pillow, she declared "I don't want it."

I responded, "I know, but it's bed time, and you are tired, so lay down please."

She laid down on her back, head on the little pillow I made for her, and then stuck her feet straight up in the air, to block any blanket tucking.

I looked at her and decided not to engage. Instead, I held up her soft pink blanket, which is silky on one side; we call it her "silky."

"Do you want your silky?" I asked.

With a thumb firmly set in her teeth, she grunted, "nuh, uh."

I held up her real quilt as well as a crocheted blanket which she usually just hugs all night:

"Do you want your blanket?"

Evie: "nuh uh"

Me: "Ok, suit yourself, I love you." I stroked the hair out of her face, gave her a kiss on her forehead and laid her blankie next to her at arms reach, in case she changed her mind once I left the room.

She immediately started crying, and once I closed the door I could hear the thud, thud, thud of blankets and stuffed animals being thrown overboard, as she systematically declared "I. Don't. Want. It!"

I waited a few minutes, and then opened her door, she was standing there, in a barren bed, beginning to strip.

The second the door opened however, she dove face-first into the mattress, and went limp, as if to try to fool me into thinking she was asleep. Her pajama shirt was un-buttoned, one leg was already out of her pants, but there she was, still and silent, pretending she was asleep.

As I looked at my not-yet 2 year-old daughter, "playing possum" in her bed, blanket strewn across the floor, pillow thrown across the room, I laughed to myself and remembered my own childhood, trying as hard as possible to stay up later than allowed. My mother would inevitably come storming in to lay down the law, and each and every time she would turn the knob of my door, I would dive under the covers and pretend I was asleep.

She never bought it obviously, and yet I always tried.

And then tonight, history has repeated itself. I have become my mother and my daughter has well, apparently our looks aren't the only thing we have in common.

As I put her jammies back on, and told her to lay back down and go to sleep, I contemplated what the next week, the next month and the next 16 years are going to bring.

What's scary? She's not even two yet.

New phrases by Evie

"No, my do it!" In reference to everything, buckling in her seat, velcro-ing her shoes, zipping her jacket, etc.

She also like to run around the corner from where I am standing and then say: "Mommmmmy, where awww yuuu?"
She then runs back around the corner to where I have been standing, to announce "There you is!"

Whenever the dog barks, she now runs to the door, knocks on it, and says "HEY! Shasha! Be Nishe! No Balking!" (Hey, portia, be nice, no barking.)

When I tell her it's time to go to bed, she says "No, I don't want it." :-)

I'm so enjoying her little sentences, and really finding her expressions of her own personality.

Fertile Soil

Last November, I attended the Christian Musician's summit and happened to have the opportunity to meet Katherine Scott, a very talented singer/songwriter from Ireland. She had some beautiful songs about life in general and remaining faithful through tough times. During one of her song transitions, she started talking about her own life and mentioned her observation that the "waiting periods" in our lives are God's way of preparing the soil of your heart to plant new seeds. A very Irish saying, but I found it very true.

Bryan and I are in one of these waiting periods. Everything it seems, is falling apart or not working out the way we had planned. We are in a flurry of uncertainty in many different aspects and thus we wait for answers and direction.

And so as we wait, we ask our friends to pray for us as our soil becomes more and more fertile.

Today

Today began at 5:45 am with the ear piercing squall of a toddler who did not yet want to be awake, but who certainly did not want to be asleep alone. She screamed until her father brought her to our bed, where she quickly made herself comfortable between our two bodies, laying vertically to that her head was on him and her feet were shoved into my back.

Soon, she was squirming around, spinning and pressing against the two of us until nobody could sleep anymore and we all decided it was time to get up.

Bryan drove us all into town where I was to have my MRI. However, upon arrival it was determined I had already had an MRI in the hospital (I have little recollection of much of my hospital stay) and thus the doctor had decided to cancel the MRI and await further instructions from the neurologist. In the meantime I am to continue taking the pills and not drive for fear I will seize again.

Bryan had already left so I had to call him to turn around to pick me up.

We then went to the hardware store to retrieve spray foam for the vents to block the rodent stink from the crawl space until he has the time to go spelunking.

We are home now, he has sprayed the foam, the candles are lit and he has requested that I help him tear out the wall in the garage. I reminded him that I can barely hold a pencil, let alone a hammer, but this seemed to be of little consequence to my husband. So I will go out and cheer him on, but there will be, I assure you, no wall removal by me.

Where I've been

I've been asked why I haven't blogged lately. The long and short of it is that the fan has been hit, the sky is falling, the basket has dropped out.

I suppose things started getting a little dicey when Bryan was part of the Chrysler corporate white-collar lay offs back in November. He quickly found a job @ a local dealership however, and we thought that would be a nice stop-gap until he found a more permanant position. WELL.

Since then, I have also found out I have no job after June thanks to state-wide budget cuts in education. Then, everyone got really sick this winter, one thing after the other until we all had various stages of respiratory infections or pneumonia.

On March 20th I was at work after having been off a few days, but not able to miss any more. I started to feel dizzy and then my eyes rolled back in my head. This was only the beginning; I ended up having seizures and being taken to the hospital via ambulance. That began a two week adventure which continues today. I was diagnosed with non-epileptic seizure disorder and sent to follow up with my regular physicians.

Tomorrow I have an MRI to see if I have MS.

In the meantime, Bryan is working from 8am to at least 9pm (it's currently 10:22pm and he is still at work) Friday-Tuesdays (he has Wednesdays and Thursdays off.) This means we rarely see him and when we do, he's exhausted and frustrated.

Aside from employment and health issues, we had the added bonus this week of discovering our water heater had been spraying water for an indefinate amount of time, flooding our garage and soaking the wall. We now have black mold on two garage walls and need a new water heater. We were blessed to have two friends who volunteered their time and money last night to come and rescue us and stop the leak and replace the tank on the top of the water heater until Bryan has a day off and can work on things.

We also have something dead under our house (in the crawlspace,) and the odor is wafting up through the vent in the living room. This means the entire house reeks of dead animal and will continue to do so until Bryan has time to go spelunking under the house in the crawl space to figure out what smells and get rid of it.

We have been blessed by family and friends however, my cousin and aunt took Evie while I was in the hospital, my friend Anna took the week off to help me out since I was seizing every 30 minutes and needed full-time care and Bryan had no sick time and was in jeopardy of losing his job (and our medical insurance) if he left work. I don't know what we would have done without them all.

Finally, Bryan's Grandmother came to visit and has been here to help out the last few weeks. It was so nice to see her and she was so generous doing laundry and dishes, and helping with general house cleaning and with Evie as I regained my strength so I could go back to work.

Needless to say, it's been a very busy time for all of us, and I have not been on the blog much. Please keep our family in your thoughts and prayers as we continue through this time of continued trial.

Seriously?

Somali pirates took another boat today: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7994980.stm and the American ship captain remains their hostage aboard a small fiberglass lifeboat along their coast. Their plan, apparently, is to continue to take control of merchant vessels, and bring them to the area in order to have more leverage in the stand-off with the Americans. They seem to be trying to get the lifeboat to the Somali shore to gain the maximum leverage.

My question is, why have we not just taken them out? I mean I'm all for being pragmatic, but seriously, they are holding one of our people hostage and taking more people around the world hostage and getting away with it. At what point do we say enough is enough?

Just yesterday the French decided they had had enough and sent in their own commando troops to take back control of a French vessel, they killed the pirates and were able to save the lives of all but one of the hostages. Perhaps I've watched a little too much 24 as of late, but I am really wondering why we haven't sent in our own Navy Seals to get the American captain back. Can we not take a life-boat full of Somali pirates? Really?
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Evie's hideout

First, collect every blanket and pillow you can find and build a nest. Add a pile of cloth diapers for softness and throw a few items from the hamper for good measure.

Second, add a few plush friends and check for softness

Finally, ask your mother to stop taking pictures and leave you alone...you say something like "No picture, go ny-night mommy!" Because you are an example of excellent manners and behavior.