WNBP: One From The Archives! And I Am Most Definitely NOT Crying.

I'm going to divert from the format again tonight.  I can do that.  It's my blog.  I make the rules here, darn it!

Besides, it's good to shake things up every now and again.  Keeps me on my toes and all that.  So here is a Not So Much With The Bullet Points Post and a promise to return to my random blatherings in short order.

I received an email from The Cheerful Teaching Assistant last week.  She informed me that, while wandering the halls and trying to find a clear route through all the seniors lined up and attempting to do a serious version of marching practice, she happened to see a familiar face.  A very proud face.  And once she saw it, she took a moment to blubber quietly in some private corner of the high school and then inform me of the sight so I could tear up a bit myself.

I didn't outright blubber.  Let's be clear on that right now.  I may have gotten a bit misty, but I'm not all pregnant and hormonal like the CTA.  I've got some control going on over here.

Some of you might remember the owner of that face.  I've mentioned him once or twice over the years. He went through a couple of incarnations name-wise due to the fact that I first met him at the half-way mark of his sixth grade year, then didn't see him again for a brief period.  In the end, though, I settled on something like The Boy With The Bottomless Gym Bag.  It fit.  I've rarely seen a more random collection of objects make their way into a school building and to this day I don't know how he managed that particular form of magic.  It wasn't a particularly large bag.

I know I've told a few tales about him.  He was the one who, as a mere sixth grader, had the audacity to speak in dictatorial tones to me while I began the process of moving items to the new classroom I'd been assigned to the following year.

  "Put that down," he demanded.  "You are sick.  I can hear you coughing all the way down the hall and I know you have pneumonia because I heard you telling the other teachers so don't even bother lying about it.  I'm taking care of this.  It's what I do.  You go sit somewhere.  Seriously...you are as bad as my mother with this stuff!"

And that was that.  He rallied the other students and had the classroom packed, moved and almost organized before I could work up enough breath to say something about how I wasn't sure we were insured for this kind of child labor.

I remembered that kindness when I was moved up to the middle school to take over his classroom.  It's a good thing, too.  His 7th grade year was an unqualified and oft-mentioned disaster.  So much so that, by the time I arrived, he was being afforded the privilege of repeating it.  But, what can I say?  I liked the kid.  Who doesn't have some affection for a boy who forces you into a seat when you really need to be sitting but won't admit it?

Some of you might recall him now.  You may remember me telling of the time he found a doll head in his bottomless gym bag.  He hadn't the foggiest notion how it got there, but it delighted him all the same.  He tied a string to it and swung it around faster and faster until it made a whistling sound.  He's also the kid who came to school with food poisoning after a massive storm knocked out power in his town for a week.  He was shooting for perfect attendance that year and needed to make it to noon before the day counted.  I've never seen skin quite that shade of gray, but we stuck it out with him.  And he made it.

I'm positive I wrote about the time he stopped on his way out the door one warm Friday afternoon and said, "Ms. Sheep?  I know you don't have kids or anything like that.  But I still think you deserve to have a Happy Mother's Day, OK?"

There were oodles of good stories I told about TBWTBGB.  But there were lots I never shared because it somehow felt disrespectful.  Downright wrong, even.  Everyone deserves to have a protector, even if it's just about holding back a few details.

For example, I may have shared with you the day we spent trying to not talk about anything food related while he battled power-outage induced nausea.  But I don't think I ever told you about how, in addition to getting sick, he'd also been up several nights in a row with a baseball bat in hand.  He'd been protecting his sister's room after people tried to break in during those extra dark nights.

I am certain I never shared the other half of the story about that gym bag.  Some of the things he brought to school in that ever-expanding marvel of modern stitchery were personal possessions he sold to other kids in order to bring in a little more money.  Sometimes I think it was to pay for his lunch.  That was the year they made some pretty drastic changes to the free/reduced lunch policy and his family just didn't have it.  He never told me and I never asked.  But I am almost positive that is where some of those random bagged items went.

I'll bet you a million dollars right now that I didn't tell you about that time with his Dad and how he hated having to get physical but what else can you do when someone is so drunk he isn't safe?  He only shared that one incident with me.  There were others, though.  I know that.  Not "think."  Not "suspect."  I know.

There was really no way to accurately describe the look of stunned disbelief on his face when we told him that the assistant principal had made a phone call home on his behalf and convinced his mother that his efforts this year should allow him to move up as a freshman as opposed to staying at the middle school for another year.   When it finally hit home that his retention was officially rescinded, I don't think I've ever seen a boy smile so broadly.

Perhaps I mentioned that he visited us last year on a humid, rainy day.  But I didn't tell you that he was stopping by after walking fifteen miles from his older brother's place.  He'd been kicked out of his house and, because he was now living out of district, the buses couldn't come get him.  But he thought he could still make his last two classes and he really wanted to keep up his attendance if he could.

Our high school graduation was last weekend.  Prior to that, they held Convocation.  I know he was there because The Organized Teaching Assistant was present to witness her own son's pre-graduation ceremony and she saw him.  There were a lot of kids, though and it was sort of hard to pick him out of the crowd. They all dress alike for these sorts of things, you see.  In addition, there is a tradition at the end of this event where the seniors leave the stage to go give a carnation to someone who helped them through their high school years.  The idea is to remember to thank those individuals and I would imagine there is a bit of chaos at that point.  The OTA was thrilled to see her son bearing down upon her, carnation in hand.  She lost track of TBWTBGB.  She was pretty sure his mother was there, though and that he thanked her.  That is good. I like to think that there is still hope for them since I actually rather liked his mother and when you think about it, how bad could she be?  She raised a pretty decent kid, after all.

When the OTA turned around to go back to her seat, she realized there was someone next to her.  She looked up and there he was.  Still beaming, just like the CTA described and looking as proud as she'd ever seen him in his maroon cap and gown.  She was thrilled that he stopped by to say hello before leaving.  But he wasn't really there to say hello.

He was there to thank her.

I don't think he knew she would be there nor do I think it was a planned thing.  I believe he caught sight of her and wanted to make sure he said the words.  This, of course made her cry and when she passed on those thanks to me the following day, she was still a little misty.

Again, I did not cry.  I will admit to the room suddenly getting a little sparkly and having to wave my hands frantically in front of my face for a minute, but I did not cry.  I am not a mother getting ready to watch her son graduate from high school any more than I am a hormonally charged pregnant lady.  I've got a firm grip on my tear ducts and don't you forget it.  

Just a little soggy around the edges of my eyes.  That's all.  Frankly, I am beginning to think that everyone is just trying to see if they can make me weep.  But I won't.  I've got it all under control.

It is maybe just a teeny bit hard to see the screen right now, but that is probably just allergies.  No, I am not one given to overt displays of emotion.  I'm just the lady who somehow finds the time to teach in between dodging whizzing doll heads and trying to ignore the storefront lurking inside a gym bag because sometimes a little dignity is all you can give a kid.  Trust me on that one.

I will say this, though.  Most of the time, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it ain't a peacock.  And, sadly, sometimes the kid who looks like a thug and acts like a thug is truly no more than that.  Other times, however, there is more to that story.

And I'm glad I got to be a part of this one.

SA

WNBP: Timely Thoughts, Musings And Other Assorted Diversions

April vacation really snuck up on me this year.  Seriously.  One minute I was mourning the end of February break and suddenly...BAM!  March had stomped all over me and I was gifted with a spring break in which to recover.

I've already mentioned my whole What The Heck Do You Mean It's May Already!? drama so I don't think I need to go over that again.  Suffice it to say, I needed some adjustment time before I got my head around May showing up again all fresh and springy when I was still trying to find the mitten I lost back in November.

Now they tell me it is June.  In fact, it is June 'n Then Some.  I probably could have figured it out by the sudden number of middle school girls flaunting tank tops that their mothers clearly didn't approve before they left the house that morning.  That way I would have had a little time to digest it.

Instead, I get hit full in the face with June and the fact that I suddenly have so very much to do and a classroom full of kids who want nothing more than to find creative ways of preventing me from accomplishing much beyond screaming insightful things like, "For the billionth time, I'm telling you to STOP LOOKING AT HIM!!!!"

I know I whine about time a lot, but its rampant and completely inconsiderate progress just burns me up sometimes....

Here's your bullet points for this week.  Rest assured, the I Am So Totally Not A Time Lord theme will prevail.

*Today was Wednesday.  I've mentioned Wednesday to you before.  I like Wednesday.

*It's the day when I can stop for gas on the way to school without worrying that I will arrive to find kids milling around outside my classroom waiting for me to unlock it so the ritual taking of attendance can begin.

*Instead, I arrive just in time for the first meeting of the day.  Or, if I've pumped my gas efficiently, I can make another cup of coffee before going to the meeting.

*Sometimes I even have time to answer an email or two.  Perhaps say a heartfelt, "good mornin' to ya" whenever I pass an equally relaxed colleague.

*Wednesday is memorable.

*So why did I tell no fewer than three people that it was Thursday?  Insist that it was Thursday, actually...

*It was not Thursday.

*The kids were treated to an assembly today.  The band played.  The chorus sang.  They were pretty good from what I could hear.

*I opted to remain in my classroom with a few of the kids that I knew wouldn't fare well no matter how fine the tunes.

*No assembly should last for two hours.  There is nothing so interesting that a two hour assembly is warranted.  At least nothing that should be done in a school building.

*On the up side, we didn't have the first two academic blocks of the day due to all the music and moving from point A to point B so that cleared up my morning rather nicely.

*And the Fearsome Foursome I kept with me weren't missed at the group gathering one little bit.  In fact, I looked like kind of a hero for taking that little bit of potential mayhem out of the equation.

*Note:  I will happily look like a hero if it involves little work on my part.  The Fearsome Foursome isn't really so scary if you bribe them with shorter math assignments and computer games.

*I realized something today.

*If I can survive the next couple of weeks plus a few days without getting struck by lightening, winning the lottery or falling into a time vortex, I will be able to legitimately say I have taught for a quarter century.

*However, I'm not sure if that is something to ever say out loud, legitimately or otherwise.

*I suppose it means I might be somewhat closer to retirement, but that situation seems to be spiraling out of control enough that I doubt it.

*At this rate, I will be teaching long enough for cybernetic replacement parts to become readily available to the general public.  I will be a rattling collection of loosely matched budget limbs because that is all my insurance will cover.

*I'll be the teacher of the future, complete with a defrost setting and handy cup holder.

*I was absent from school on Monday.  I'd been putting off this doctor's appointment for over a month and really couldn't ignore it any longer.

*For the record, when you have to put off doctor's appointments in order to ensure classroom coverage because other people are absent a lot, you don't feel one bit guilty about taking the time off.

*Even if you also decided to call in "sick" last Thursday because you were so tired you couldn't see straight and utterly out of patience with anyone under the age of fifteen.

*It doesn't bother you one little bit.  

*The nurse approved my blood pressure and pulse rate then praised the loss of those extra pounds that crept up over the past couple of years.

*"That isn't possible," I said flatly.  "I am currently living on candy and gum. The cheap kind. Except for the holiday weekend and then I lived on meat and fried things.  What you should be checking me for is scurvy."

*They don't run that test routinely, but she said she'd look into it.  I don't think she will, though...

*It was 90 degrees over the weekend.  None of us were really prepared for that.

*We all walked around sweaty and confused, wondering why we were so hot.  

*Then, a few days later, they were putting up frost warnings.

*So we all walked around in shorts and tube tops, shivering and wondering why the weather gods were hating on us.

*As you might suspect from the overall tone of this post, I did not have the fans out.  Nor were my summer clothes unpacked.

*In fact, I was short one fan due to my having taken it to school in order that I might combat The Heating System From Hell That Roasted Us Like Chestnuts All Winter Long.

*I had to go buy a new fan when I was out so desperately "sick" last Thursday.

*By Monday, I really didn't need my new fan.  But I did catch on to the way things were going enough to go sandal shopping once I left the doctor's office.

*My absence on Monday was planned well in advance.  I left written directions for my substitute.

*The plan for English/Language Arts read, in part, as follows:

Next, you should tell the class that I will be giving them the due dates for their written reports this week.  They will look at you blankly and say, "what reports?"  Please feel free to roll your eyes on my behalf and let them know I will repeat the entire set of directions regarding this assignment  (the ones I gave them two weeks ago)  upon my return.

*Sadly, they were unable to procure a sub for me so I doubt if anyone read that.  I thought it was pretty good...

*One of the best things about going to the family cookout over the long weekend was chatting with my cousin and learning the dishwasher thing is not my fault.

*Apparently, I am genetically predisposed to vehemently dislike emptying the dishwasher.

*I ran the dishwasher on Monday.  My sink is full of dirty dishes that would like to enter the box 'o cleanliness.

*Someday they will get their wish.  For now, they can just gaze enviously at the the steel door and wonder what it's like to be the clean dishes that live behind it.

*My hair is wet.  And doing strange things.  My hair takes time to tame.  

*I can either get up at 3:00 in the morning or deal with the worst of it at night.

*I choose the latter.

*Much to the chagrin of the World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach who wants nothing more than to hack it all off into something more manageable.

*Frankly, shorter doesn't always mean more manageable.  Especially if you were blessed with eight billion cowlicks.

*But I imagine it might dry a little faster...

*Last year  TWGSALC and I made plans for a day out once school was finished.  It was fun.

*And it feels like it was literally a week and a half ago.

*Now we have plans to go do it again and I still haven't rested up from the last one!



Since the doctor told me I have to eat something besides gum and the stylist told me I have to be kinder to my hair, I suppose I should be looking into one or both of those things.  It is already 7:30 and I can't even begin to understand how we went from 4:00 to 7:30 in fifteen minutes, but there you go. I'll update you on the reading situation next week. Perhaps I'll have more time then.  It seems unlikely, but a girl can wish.

If you need me, I'll just be over here trying to close up my classroom and figure out where I left my comfy sandals.  I hear July is lurking somewhere out there and I'd like to be ready for it...

SA

WNBP: Done.

Memorial Day weekend is kind of a double edged sword for me.  On one hand, it is a time to honor those who've given their lives in service to our country as well as the ones we've lost in less obviously noble but but just as honorable ways.  That is a good thing to do at least once a year, I think.

 It is also the weekend the maternal side of the Sheepish clan gets together to devour vast quantities of protein and carbohydrates whilst sparing a thought for those who have naught but vegetables upon which to dine.  That is also a good thing to do once a year.  It is probably not such a good thing to do on a regular basis, though.  We would be a highly irregular family were that the case...

Lastly, it is a three day weekend.  I don't think I need to explain the virtues of that in any great detail.  If you don't understand why a three day weekend is better than a two day weekend, then there is really nothing I can do for you.  I consider you a lost case.  You probably also prefer to eat vegetables even if there is a perfectly good dessert tray sitting right there next to it.

But Memorial Day weekend is also the beginning of the end for me when it comes to my teacherly duties.  No.  That's not quite true.  It is the actual end.  I am suddenly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and no amount of meeting memos or helpful emails regarding the ten billion things I still have left to do is going to turn it around.

We are in the home stretch.  I have but a few Wednesdays left unto me in which I can natter on about the school day.  I suppose I'll have to "enjoy" the blog fodder while I have it.  Here's this week's version of the Wednesday Night Bullet Post.

I'll try to remember that I am enjoying all that fodder...

*Yesterday, I arrived at school after the New Teaching Assistant.

*She has been there all year.  She isn't new anymore.  I think I am promoting her to Supremely Organized Teaching Assistant.  Or perhaps Remarkably Tolerant Of Her Scatterbrained Supervisor Teaching Assistant...

*No.  I'm staying with the first one.  It's easier to remember.  I'll just have the Supremely Organized Teaching Assistant jot it down for me.

*I always get to school before she does.  It is really the only thing I have left that marks me as Boss Of The Classroom.  Except for yesterday.

*I greeted her and then said, "I have some bad news.  I am done."

*And I am.  Memorial Day Weekend was mostly rainy and it was hard to find the summer in it, but Monday was simply gorgeous.

*I found the summer.

*Today is Wednesday.  On Wednesdays we have a late start to accommodate teacher trainings and whatnot without the expense of hiring subs to cover for us.

*Except today was not a late start because the high school has finals and it sort of seemed like a good idea to give the students ample time in which to prove they have learned enough to graduate.  That is kind of important.

*I knew about this months ago.  I even knew about it yesterday.  I knew about it all of today.

*But none of that kept me from going back to the familiar schedule commonly referred to by some of my students as Wacky Wednesday.

*Which meant I was sending kids off to appointments that were hours away or already passed and telling specialists they had plenty of time in which to see kids when they actually had no time at all because the facilities they normally use on a Wacky Wednesday were in use by other teachers.

*Were it not for Tween Girl and her frighteningly keen eye for detail, I probably would still be there thinking it was noon and trying to figure out why no one showed up for study hall.

*This was not a good day for the SOTA to have to take her kid to the doctor.  Her being late meant I had two whole hours of not knowing what I was doing.

*Interestingly enough, her horoscope today mentioned needing to be very alert and aware because her skills would be needed to keep larger projects and less organized people afloat.

*That isn't scary at all...

*The Thursday before the long weekend, students in the social studies classes were given a Family Tree assignment.  We reminded all of them.  Multiple times.

*We explained the assignment.  Multiple times.

*We told them it would take fifteen minutes, tops.  Multiple times.

We assured the classroom teacher that we, the ever alert special education staff, had this under control.  We didn't say this multiple times because the classroom teacher has a lot of stuff to do and sometimes she just has to trust that we know what we are doing.

*Classroom teachers are kind of naive and foolish that way.

*On Tuesday, all the students looked at us blankly when we asked if it was finished.   It was as if we hadn't said anything...multiple times.

*Since my students weren't the only ones to fail miserably with follow through, the classroom teacher gave one more day for them to finish.  One.  After that it was seven straight days of lost recess.

*Seven!!!!  That is a lot of lost recess.  Kind of a bold move for a sixth grade teacher, but I see her point.  When most of the class blows off an important assignment, you really have to go hard core.

*Today, we asked if everyone had finished this simple fifteen minute task.  The one we reminded them of multiple times and upon which their very recesses depended.

*Tween Girl smiled proudly and showed us her work.  For TG to complete that assignment took some effort.  More than most kids would need to expend.  But her mom helped her and she did it.  Bless her little heart.  If not for her, I think I would have given up this teaching thing completely.

*Because everyone else...well, lets just say there won't be much recessing going on for the next seven school days.

*I swear to you, if I see on more blank look I am going to scream.

*I got an email from the mother of He Who...PROJECTS today.  She said how much he is enjoying the independent study project I assigned and wondered when it was due.  She has some photographs his grandfather took during WWII and thought he would like to scan them into his slide show presentation.

*That is when I realized something.  I have assigned a major project.  However, because it is really a clever camouflage for teaching some executive functioning skills, I honestly didn't think about the due date.

*And now I will be grading major projects during the last week of school.  I will be doing this frantically in the hopes that I might possibly make the deadline for report cards.

*I am an idiot.

*Fortunately, I have a very small class and there won't be more than four of these projects to deal with.

*But still...only an idiot assigns a major project this late in the year and at a time when "done" is the word of the day.

*The other word of the day can be "idiot," I suppose...

*The Annual Sheepish Family Cook-Out was a rousing success.  My job was to bring the Cheesy Bread.  I know this because, for months now, various relatives have been reminding me.

*I was late.  My bread baking, a normally simple activity, was a series of disasters which began when I got my hand stuck in the stupid drawer under the oven (there's five minutes of my life I'll never get back) and ended with two loaves unwilling to exit the pan without leaving a part of themselves behind.

*I made an extra batch to cover for them and texted Daddy Sheep to let him know I was delayed but on my way.

*Completely forgetting that Daddy Sheep would be manning the grill and possibly fending off the helpful suggestions of relatives who wandered away from the herd at the snack table.

*He didn't get my text.  Instead, the herd remained unaware of my intentions and, according to a variety of sources, they all wandered around asking, "Where is the bread?  Gee, I hope the bread is OK."

*I arrived to cheers and cries of, "The bread is here!!!"

*Baby Brother Sheep said, "We were afraid you'd gotten into an accident and the bread was in a ditch somewhere."

*At least I know I'll be missed should something ever befall me before the Sheepish Family Cook-Out.

*For the record, when you get your hand stuck in the stupid drawer under the oven you can't help but get a little introspective.

*"So this is how it ends," you think.  "All my good works and the only thing I'll be remembered for is this.  I'm a cautionary tale about stuck oven drawers and the importance of not sticking your hand in there to loosen things up."

*Yes, I was reduced to a Saturday Night Live skit.

*I had a heck of a bruise, but no one seemed all that impressed.  Maybe next time I should show up at the cook-out dangling the actual oven from my arm as proof of my dedication to addressing their bread addiction.

*I had a great time.  I got to see lots of people I don't normally see and I stayed well past my bed time.

*I also came up with a great new definition.

*Family:  The people who see how many leftovers you take home but don't bat an eye and reserve comment until after you leave.

*My lunch needs for the week are taken care of.

*Since the school year is winding down, I'm kind of rushing to get through the audio books I wanted to listen to before commuter time ends.

*The Raven Boys (Raven Cycle) continues to enchant.  I have only one complaint.  It's not really a complaint.  It's more of a wish.

*I love having it read to me, but I can't help but think it's really a book that was meant to be read.

*Some stories are just like that.  I can picture the printed page and I just know it would sound better in my head.  Does that make any sense at all?

*Beautiful writing should be read.  I think I'll remember that when I go for the sequel.

*Or I won't remember that because I am "done" right now and forgetting pretty much everything.  I will probably forget before I hit "publish" tonight.  And that is OK.  It is a wonderful audio book.

*In fact, it is very likely I will forget because once I start a series on audio, I tend to want to finish it that way.

*But maybe you will remember and do better.

*I'm also still working my way through Cold Days: A Novel of the Dresden Files.

*God, I missed Harry!  I'm almost finished and I think I'm slowing down just because I want to spend a few more days with him.

*The Dresden Files series actually works beautifully as audio books.

*I've tried them in both formats.  Just sayin'.



That said, it suddenly occurs to me that my hair is drying without me.  If this were summer vacation, I wouldn't care.  But it isn't summer vacation.  I may be done with this school year, but it isn't quite done with me.  Hence, I'd better see if I can get this follicle situation under control before I'm left with a mess that needs more taming than I have time for tomorrow morning.  I should probably also see about finding some appropriate clothing and perhaps feed myself some dinner before breakfast time rolls around.

All this is stuff I've been doing since September.  None of it is all that hard.  Except now it is because of one warm sunny day that didn't involve a commute.

And probably also because of students who look at me blankly after multiple repetitions...

SA

WNBP: I Know Time Flies, But This Is Ridiculous!

On Monday morning, as my small Language Arts class was settling in to fake working just enough to "fool" me, He Who...PROJECTS! spoke up.

"Ms. Sheep," he said, very seriously.  "There is something I forgot to tell you before I left on Friday."

"What's that?" I asked warily, fearing that he'd forgotten to chastise me for some teacherly offense and that he'd had the whole stupid weekend to work himself up into a lather over the whole thing.  This would probably take up most of the morning and I had neither the time nor the energy for it.

He screwed up his face in intense concentration, took in a deep breath and said in his most projected fashion:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

That was sweet and I told him so.  It was nice that he remembered my casually mentioning it during a conversation earlier.  But it also brought to light a fact that I am really having a hard time processing.  No, it is not my advancing years.  I came to terms with the forward progression of time a while ago.  It was more the idea that my Natal Day comes in May.  Which can only mean one thing.

It is May.

How did May get here?  I am still giving serious thought to purchasing snow tires and suddenly May pops its face out of nowhere?  That's just crazy.

But May it is, no doubt about that.  A Taurus with my astrological chart doesn't get Birthday wishes projected into her face without M-A-Y being at the head of the calendar.  Where did the time go?

Clearly another week has passed (if not many of them) so I suppose I should get on with this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  Perhaps the very act of chronicling the days will give me some sort of perspective on the passage of time this school year.


*I had a nice enough birthday, considering.

*And by "considering" I mean I was planning to take the day off and then couldn't because the Organized Teaching Assistant had to go to a meeting for her son.

*And then he got sick so she didn't make it in to work at all.

*And then the New Teaching Assistant came in saying she'd been considering taking the day off herself but decided that she didn't need a mental health day all that badly just yet.

*Probably forgetting that I'd given up my day off because she isn't the type of person to say something like that in a cruel way.

*And then we had achievement testing all day but no one remembered to tell me about all the schedule changes so I had a short-staffed classroom and lots of extra kids roaming around.

*Finally, Jolly Boy (who is losing his jolliness by the minute these days) and Little Einstein (who isn't as smart as I thought he was given his recent choices) decided to get into a disagreement in the cafeteria and almost came to blows.

*They weren't even supposed to BE in the cafeteria but the social worker who normally has lunch with them on Fridays emailed me on Monday to let me know she was taking the day off...isn't that nice?

*Side Note:  Jolly Boy came up with a witness to prove his innocence following the mid-day drama.  Unfortunately, he decided to pin his hopes of acquittal upon Jolly Boy Jr., the unfortunate second player in an earlier incident with him.

*Thus causing me to yell at Mr. Principal:  BOYS ARE STUPID!  SERIOUSLY...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!!!!!

*But it all worked out because I bought myself a new flat iron on the way home and then HW...P! loudly reminded everyone that they'd chosen the worst possible day to not worship adoringly at my feet.

*I like it when people are loudly reminded of such things.  Does this make me a bad person?

*Probably.  But I'm OK with that.

*I still got a new flat iron.  And birthday cake with the family on Sunday.

*Oh!  And these amazing cookie/peanut butter cup/brownie things that SIL Sheep made.

*Think about that.  Three of the best things in the whole world.  In one thing.  Together.

*I forgot all about the trials and tribulations of being an under paid and under appreciated educator who had to work on her birthday after one bite of that little heaven-nugget!!!

*I also forgot that May had snuck up on me like some kind of scary street mime.  At least for a while.

*I was reminded of May when the work week started up again and the meetings came at me.

*I have lots of meetings in the spring.  Mostly "transition" meetings where I sit in on educational planning sessions for the kids who will be coming to our school in the fall.

*I had the first one in March.  That seemed really early to me.

*In fact, I think there might have even been a bit of snow left on the ground.

*It doesn't seem like it was that long ago...

*I am facing a wall.  I don't like looking at that wall because, back in October, I put a giant hole in it.

*Actually, I didn't put a giant hole in it.  The dudes that installed the stereo system in the manse did that.

*I know what you are thinking.  Installed sound system?  Why, Sheepie!  You live in the veritable lap of luxury over there!  I had no idea you were so very, very well-to-do.

*Not so much.  My condo was built in the 80's.  Not the cool 80's.  The plastic, false wood grain AM/FM radio with cassette deck 80's.

*It was in the wall.  As much as I hated the stereo in my wall, the idea of pseudo-construction didn't appeal either.

*I just avoided looking at the wall.

*Last October, I was home due to a hurricane situation so I figured I should probably use the time to fiddle with wires since Emergency Services didn't have much to do once the possibility of a hurricane passed.

*That left a giant hole in my wall.  I tacked a poster over it.

*Then I remembered that, come May, I would be a 48 year old woman.  48 year old women don't have posters tacked to their walls.

*It is one thing to lie about your age.  It is another thing entirely to act out one's days as if one is 17.

*I had to do something about this.

*In November, I hung a picture over the giant hole.  Which is a much more mature thing to do.

*In April, I purchased a drywall patch and various patching accessories.

*It is now May.  I am 48 years old.  I do not have a poster tacked to my wall, but I do have a large piece of uninstalled drywall in my kitchen and patching accessories in my bedroom.

*Oh, an a giant hole in my wall but I can't see that so it doesn't affect my day to day life all that much.

*At least not as much as the big piece of drywall because that is the sort of thing I am wont to stub my toe on from time to time...

*Most of the teachers in my school can tell you exactly how many school days are left.  I can't.

*Heck, I'm still not caught up with the whole "May" deal.  If I get to thinking about how much I have left to do in the next 20-something days, I'll probably have to be hospitalized.

*I have to admit, I am sort of happy about May, assuming it is real and not some cruel joke.  The idea that I might have survived yet another school year and lived to have nightmares about it during summer vacation is kind of cool.

*I'll miss the commute, though.  I've experienced some really awesome traveling books this school year.

*I finished The Gate Thief (Mither Mages) today.  I didn't like the ending at all.

*But then the author's afterword assured me there is a third and final book coming.

*Good.  This one ended abruptly.  And badly.  Not as in "badly written."

*As in, "What?!  Are you freakin' kidding me?????  Oh, that's just wrong..."

*Once I'd calmed down, I cued up The Raven Boys (Raven Cycle).

*That's one I often consider whilst book shopping, but never seem to get around to.

*However, the library had a copy available for download so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

*Beautiful writing.  Evocative.  Characters drawn in sharp detail with six words and an inference.

*Beautiful...

*And guess what?  After my Sunday Birthday Luncheon, I drove SIL Sheep home and she loaned me her copy of Cold Days: A Novel of the Dresden Files!

*I've looked at it about fifty billion times, but it seemed kinda spendy.  So it went into the "someday soon" pile.

*But now I've got it and I can't believe how much I've forgotten about the previous volume.

*It's all coming back to me now.  And I remember why Harry Dresden always makes me so sad.  He just doesn't catch a break.  Ever.  

*Sometimes it's funny.  But it's sad in equal measure.

*I also think I missed him.  It's nice to have a Dresden Files book back in my hands!

*It also helps to know that I'm not the only one who lost a bit of time, although mine is more due to lack of attention.

*Not so much with the Almost Dead And Bound Into Service By A Very Mean Lady.

*Even if it sometimes feels like that after a long school day...


Nope.  May still doesn't seem real to me.  I'll probably get a handle on it sometime around August 3rd or so.  Meanwhile, I'll just keep watching everyone walking around in sandals and wondering why my feet are so darned hot in boots.  With any luck, I'll catch on in time to get my report cards done and maybe enjoy a little summer break before I have to start all over again.

Or I could just sit and stare at the dappled summer sunlight dancing across the Giant October Wall Hole until it all makes sense again...

SA

WNBP: Catching Up

Well, that post title is something of a joke.  "Catching Up?"  Who am I kidding?  I am nowhere near to being caught up, however I think I might be just a little bit closer than I was at this time last week.  I think I'm just going to pat myself on the back for that feat and ignore everything else that I should be doing at the moment.

It is Wednesday and I shall forge ahead with a Wednesday Night Bullet Post just like I always do.  Or almost always do.  I think I proved last week that "always" is kind of a flexible concept here in Sheepie Land...

*Your patience was appreciated.  I had about three seconds of energy left by the time I made the decision to give up on blogging last week and I used it to blog an apology.

*That was all I had left to give.

*This time last year, I was moaning and groaning about all the meetings that no one invited me to, but where decisions that would effect my daily working life were made with wild abandon.

*I've actually been complaining about that for many years now.  I kind of figured that everyone listened for the first couple of years, even if they didn't really respond to it with an invitation or two.

*After that, I assumed that my protestations had taken on the quality of a quiet background hum that everyone found annoying but could ignore if they tried hard enough.

*Or if they just headed out to a meeting far away from me so they could talk about what I should be doing the next school year.

*Apparently, at least some of it got through.  This year, I am being invited to all kinds of meetings.

*Spring transition meetings all over the school district.  Late afternoon meetings that require I find coverage for my homeroom lest they try to dismiss themselves for buses.

*And that never goes well.  Trust me.  Left to their own devices, I'd come back to school the next day to find them camped out in the classroom and having gone full-on Lord Of The Flies during the overnight hours.

*My guys aren't much on listening when the loudspeaker tells them things.  Like what the schedule is for the day or that their bus is leaving whether they are on it or not.

*Sometimes they have to be called by name.

*Several times...

*I've gone to a lot of meetings since March.  Yesterday I was told, "This should be the last one we need you for."

*Yay!  I almost didn't mind getting home at 5:30 which doesn't sound so bad until you consider that I leave for work at 6:00 in the morning so I can be ready and waiting for the kidlets by the 7:15.  But if this was the last one, I was gonna party like it was 1999!!!

*I got three meeting invitations today.

*Apparently "done" only applied to the one school I'd been traveling to recently.  Now I get to go to meetings at the other elementary school.

*"Done," much like "always" is not necessarily concrete in meaning.

*I had to send an email to Mr. Principal and Mr. Assistant Principal on Monday.  It went something like this:

Dear MP and MAP,

I would like to apologize in advance for the multiple missives you are soon to receive.  He Who...PROJECTS! has learned how to create his own quizzes in Google and I don't know how long you have before your inboxes begin overflowing.  I'd like to say I have some control over this, but I'd be fooling myself and, by default, you.

He has our email addresses and he knows how to use them.  Blame technology and our school's relentless insistence on going paperless.

Sincerely,

Ms. Sheep

PS.  I got 100 on my quiz.  Top that.  I dare you.


*In fairness, I wasn't even a beta tester for this project.  I was the alpha tester.  Hence, my quiz wasn't as challenging as it could have been.

*And I inadvertently supplied some of the answers since I always respond quickly when HW...P! asks me something.  It is really in everyone's best interest...

*Fortunately, the lad's attention span is short.  The quiz thing should end fairly soon.  Although, I suspect it might last a bit longer given the conversation we had about it yesterday afternoon.

HW...P!:  I like giving quizzes to teachers.

Ms. Sheep: (obviously tired but gamely playing along)  I'll just bet you do.

HW...P!:  I have to put my computer away now, though.  I thought I heard something about buses coming.

MS:  That's nice.  I'll just be over here staring at this wall for a while longer.  It is such a nice...quiet wall.

HW...P!:  (continuing on as if MS hasn't spoken)  I think quizzes are helpful.  I like to give quizzes to old people to keep their minds sharp.  That is very helpful and I think they appreciate it.  I'm going to make lots of them.

MS:  Aren't you sweet?  Hey!  Wait just a minute there.  You just gave me a quiz.  Are you saying I'm...OLD?


*Don't tell me for a minute that kids on the autism spectrum can't pick up on subtle social cues.  Or not so subtle ones.

*That boy froze like a deer in the headlights and didn't speak for a full ten seconds.

*He seemed to be considering his next move very, very carefully.

*Not exactly his strong suit.  But even he knew the dangers ahead.

*Finally, he said with forced cheer, "No!  You aren't old!   If you were sixty or seventy, that would be old.  But, you still have some time to get your mind back in shape at forty!"

*Since forty is barely visible in the rear view mirror at this point, I decided to take it as a compliment.  I was too tired and too ready to go back to staring at that wall to be offended anyway.

*HW...P!  was positively beaming with delight over how adeptly he dodged that bullet when he headed off to track practice.

*I haven't heard from Mr. Assistant Principal, but Mr. Principal reported yesterday that he got a 98.

*I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in the grocery store and said to myself, "Gee, I think I might literally keel over into a coma if I don't purchase some gelato..."

*Yet today, gelato came home with me.  Which is weird because I went there for something else which I now don't remember needing at all.

*I'm sure it will come to me sometime in the immediate future.  Hopefully it wasn't some kind of lifesaving medication or cat food...

*Speaking of Da Boyz, I found this amazing cat litter about a month ago.  It's great!

*They make it with recycled paper and it has been magically pelletized so the pieces are big enough to be swept up easily after certain stereotypically messy males scatter it hither and yon.

*"Pelletized" can too be a word.  I isn't necessarily just something I made up.

*Furthermore, it turns a lovely shade of teal when it clumps.  Just beautiful...

*We used it successfully for many weeks.  Until this past Sunday.

*Which would have been Mother's Day for anyone keeping track and who has a keen sense of irony.

*That was the day I found my Very Complicated Kitty blissfully licking the litter.

*Yes.  You heard me.  Licking.  The.  Litter.

*I'd cleaned the box recently so there was no telltale teal to indicate he was noshing on anything else.  No.  He was just licking the litter while his Absurdly Gi-normous brother looked on in abject horror.

*I removed him from the litter box whilst firmly remonstrating him for such uncouth behavior.

*I am nothing if not an involved parent.

*He went back.  Litter licking resumed.  I removed him.

*We went through several rounds of this before I finally convinced him to move on to other lickable objects around the manse.  I gave myself a mental pat on the back for being so diligent in my maternal duties.

*I figured I deserved a nice, long bath what with it being "my" day and all.

*When I emerged from the tub, all pink and relaxed I was greeted by an horrific sight.

*There was my VCK horking up wads and wads of lovely teal paper.  There was at least one, perhaps two, good-sized handfuls represented in that sodden pile when all was said and done.

*It pretty much matched the divot in the litter box.  I happened to notice that on my way to the kitchen for the paper towels I have to keep out of reach because those sometimes get eaten too.

*I thought having a Litter Licker was bad.  That's nothing.  I'd kill to go back to those carefree days of having a Litter Licker.  A Litter Licker is actually kind of an interesting conversation piece, when you think about it.

*A Litter Glutton, on the other hand...

*Well, let's just say my dreams of him someday going to community college and supporting me in my old age are kind of dwindling.

*We have gone back to the old litter that scatters all over the place and resists the most finely wrought of brooms.

*It also never, ever turns a pretty shade of blue.

*It isn't made of tempting paper, though.  And that, I suppose, is the true criteria for litter box filler in this household.

*I hope everyone else had a pleasant Mother's Day, though.  Hopefully you got breakfast in bed and sweet handmade cards.

*As opposed to the handcrafted art of the resident Litter Glutton.

*I've been really grooving on the Dog Days novels.

*Made it up to Play Dead (A Dog Days Novel).

*I truly do have a preference for books featuring male protagonists.  Not that there aren't some fantastic female characters out there and I love some of the series that feature them.

*But I somehow always seem to gravitate towards the dude's POV when I'm looking for a first person narrative.

*Not sure what that says about me, but I can't say as I'm going to put too much time into examining it.  I like what I like, I suppose...

*My commuter book is also kind of XY chromosomal.

*The Gate Thief (Mither Mages) 

*Not a first person POV.  Not even from one person's perspective, although it is thankfully limited to two.  I don't think I could handle more than two parallel story lines, at least not while I'm driving.

*I somehow managed to forget a great deal of what happened in the first novel of the series, but I'm picking it up as I go along.

*And, like all of Orson Scott Card's books (at least the one's I've listened to), it is expertly narrated.

*Today, upon arriving home, I actually sat in the car for a bit.  You know, just to get to a good "stopping point."

*Or perhaps my brain was worn out from being quizzed.  And there is always the possibility I feared what else might be getting licked in my home while I was away at work...



I think that brings you up to speed on where things stand at the moment. At least it covers the highlights. Again, your willingness to wait a bit was truly appreciated.  Progress reports were finished, a few things that needed grading were evaluated and a cat or two got petted.  (that was before the whole Litter Licking/Gluttony Debacle)  I honestly needed a little extra time to catch my breath.

Which isn't the same as "catching up," but I'm still working that whole "flexible definition" angle...

SA

WNBP: Whoops!

Well this is embarrassing...

Due to an apparent lack of self-management ability on my part, this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post will be something more akin to a Thursday Night Bullet Post.  Perhaps even a Friday Night Bullet Post if I don't get myself together sometime in the immediate future.

Unless, of course, I can somehow procure a highly intelligent helper monkey before midnight. Preferably one with amazing fine motor skills. Or an enterprising individual invents the Blog-o-Bot 3000 and selects yours truly to do a beta test.

As either of these scenarios is unlikely, I'm just going to have to pull myself together and try to do better in the next couple of days.

Your patience is greatly appreciated.  Or, at the very least, your willingness to wait until I leave the room to sigh and shake your heads sadly at my current disorganized state...

SA

WNBP: Sweet And Simple

Spring has sprung.  No.  Seriously.  It is smacking me right in the face and by that I mean I'm kind of itchy right above my eyebrows and sometimes along the right side of my jawline.  Somewhere, something is blooming.

And I think it might be something that hates me just a little bit...

I don't care.  It's been a long winter and I'm past concerning myself about such things as histamine reactions.  If hateful things want to bloom, I say have at it!  I'm ready for warmer weather and all it entails.  Well, almost all it entails.  I'm not looking forward to an overheated classroom and cranky children but, overall, I'm on board.  It's a simple thing, but it makes me happy.

So, with that thought in mind, let's take a look at this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post and see what mindless and yet somehow intriguing things have caught my fancy these past few days!

*If you happened to hear a collective sigh of relief sometime during the past week, relax.  You are not hallucinating.

*That would be my creditors who, having realized that my income tax refund was being generously spread about, were finally taking a moment to enjoy life again.

*March was a lean month.  April didn't start off much better.  My poor creditors were under incredible pressure during that time what with having to wait on me getting those forms off to the IRS.

*Don't know how they managed...

*But a little infusion of cash balanced out this year's furlough days and still unsettled teaching contract so everyone is happy again.

*At least for the moment.  I don't have the heart to tell them that there was an "open" meeting hosted by the teacher's union this afternoon and that God only knows what havoc is currently being wrought in the name of negotiations.

*I didn't go to the meeting.  I am tired.  I couldn't trust myself to stay awake once the faculty meeting was done nor to keep my comments to myself.

*Hmmm...I hate to jinx things but it seems my internet connection is working rather well this evening.

*Wireless internet.  That I pay for.  Actually working at something other than a snail's leisurely pace?

*That, my friends, is a simple pleasure indeed!

*After paying the bills and ensuring that I could carry on for the foreseeable future, I had a smidgen of cash leftover.  Figured I'd indulge myself in what we are calling an early birthday gift.

*Got me a refurbished Mint.  Now I don't have to mop and sweep the kitchen, just like all the other ladies of leisure!

*I know what you are thinking.  A robot sweeper?  For the kitchen?  Have you really gotten so lazy that you can't run a broom or mop around one room?

*Yes.  Yes, I have.  Besides, Mint amuses the ever-loving heck out of me.  Mint wanders around my kitchen, merrily sweeping and creating a map of the room all the while.

*Then, when it's figured out the whole landscape it magically does a sweep around the perimeter just to prove how fantastically awesome it is!

*Mint has limitations.  Mint does not vacuum the kitchen.  Nor will Mint scrub my kitchen.

*If I get the urge to spill rancid molasses upon my floor and then happen to trip and dump used kitty litter all over the sticky mess, I can tell Mint to clean it up.  Sure I can.

*And Mint will do what any well-intentioned but essentially unpaid laborer would do.

*Mint will gamely sally forth and do its best but it will roll its eyes at me the minute my back is turned.

*However, Mint is mopping my kitchen right now and it just snagged that yucky dead spider under where the cabinets jut out and that is above and beyond anything I'd call a mere "simple pleasure!"

*Plus it freaks the cats out just enough to make up for the early morning wake-up antics.

*Almost...

*Some of the high school staff were invited to come to the middle school today to participate in our regular Wednesday morning professional development activities.

*And among them?

*The Cheerful Teaching Assistant!!!

*She was late.  She is always late and that is somehow very comforting to me.

*She looked a little green around the gills.  She is often a bit queasy and that is also familiar enough to make me feel at home.  Although we won't tell her that because it isn't nice to take comfort in someone else's digestive upsets.

*Sadly, it appeared she'd managed to gain back some of the weight she lost last year, though.  Too bad, that.  But at least she is enjoying life, right?

*I'm going to assume the rest of you put this together much more quickly than I did.

*In fairness, it was early and I'd overslept and most of the presenters had chocolates with which to tempt us into good workshop behavior so I was kind of distracted.

*Yes, there is going to be a Little Cheerful Teaching Assistant.  We expect his or her debut sometime in November in case you want to mark the calendars.

*I'm sad that I don't get to be with the CTA during this time because I know how much she's wanted to move forward with the family thing and I feel like I was there for so much of the other stuff.

*But I'm happy for her and I expect I might just break out the ol' knitting needles again soon in celebration.

*Lately, it's the babies that seem to resurrect the wielding of sticks and string.  Then I start wondering why I got so far away from that simple and relaxing activity.

*Then I drop a stitch or the cat steals a dpn and I kind of recall a few of the darker knitting moments...

*Let me state clearly that I am a person who believes in Equal Access.  I believe this passionately, particularly when it comes to those things that kids should be able to experience.

*I have, in fact, dedicated almost my entire adult life to this concept.

*The right to an education.  To the arts. To school dances.  To the chem lab on the third floor. To simply be a part of that which most kids experience every single day, even if on a very different and maybe highly modified level.

*I include sports in that list, although I understand how others might not feel the same.  That's OK.  We can agree to disagree.

*And I even understand how, at the high school level, the stakes are a little bit higher and that we maybe need to consider things like scholarships and school rankings.  That makes sense to me, although I still think there is room for some who maybe don't make the cut on paper.  Some kids just need that, you know?

*And, at my teaching level, kids are still very much in the skill acquisition stage.  There really shouldn't be much in the way of argument.  If a kid wants to play, has the right to play. And if the law says we have to provide the means for him to play, then he should play.  Period.

*That said, believing passionately in equal access is one thing. Making it happen is another. The amount of work it is taking me to provide said access for He Who...PROJECTS to the track team is literally costing me sleep.

*HW...P is a good runner.  And a good kid.  And more likely than anyone you've ever met to wander off and end up on a bus to Peoria.  He needs a little extra supervision if he is going to participate in track.

*Yesterday, I had to put him on a bus to the high school so he could have practice there instead of at our school.  I wanted to just drive him myself.

*But a half hour impassioned plea to ride the big bus wore me down.  His winning point?

*BUT MS. SHEEP!  I'VE NEVER, EVER IN MY WHOLE LIFE GOTTEN TO RIDE A BUS THAT DIDN'T HAVE SEAT BELTS!!!

*I know that isn't true.  I've ridden with him on a bus that didn't have seat belts.  But what can you say to that level of desperation?  He just wants to be like the other kids...

*I won't go into details.  You don't really want to know what it takes to coordinate a ten minute bus ride for a kid who gets lost in his own locker and who is easily distracted by the custodial equipment.  I'll just say it takes a lot of phone calls, pleading, emails and the will to look like a complete idiot as you fret and worry over every single stupid detail of the journey.

*And the help of the school resource officer just to make sure you've covered your bases.

*He made it.  He had a great time.  I relaxed.

*Until today.  Today was his first track meet and we agreed months ago that we would provide additional staff to supervise him so he didn't end up on the wrong bus and heading off towards some unfamiliar school district.

*Track meets, in case you didn't know this, are the equivalent of a twelve ring circus.  There is no coach on earth able to juggle all that needs to be done and still keep HW...P from digging up the sand around the discus throw just to see what's down there.

*However, the person responsible for hiring staff failed to do so.  She said she assumed my teaching assistants were doing that.  It's extra pay, after all.

*Nice theory.  Except for the fact that I sent an email on March 26th stating that my staff declined the additional dollars and that the position should be listed as open.

*This was one day before the meet.  I grabbed the first person who said, "Gee. That sounds kind of interesting..."

*I'll learn tomorrow if it all worked out.  If it didn't, please forward all correspondence to the local loony bin because I've had all I can take.  I'm just going to run screaming through the halls until someone with a nice, big net comes for me.

*Still, the look on his little face when his favorite officer personally escorted him to the big bus with no seat belts...

*And his joy today when he told me all about practicing at the high school...

*And the confidence with which he boarded the bus again today to go back there for his first official track meet...

*Well, I suppose it's worth it.  It made me smile.

*I went to see The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach on Saturday.

*I was so thrilled to be getting a shearing, that I even let her take off a bit more than I'd planned.

*Nothing like a new 'do to make your whole world lighter and brighter!

*Although I'd like to know exactly where she acquired her concept of an "inch."  It's a heck of a lot more than what my ruler portrays...

*Don't care.  I has me some swingy, bouncy hair and that is enough for me!

*I continue to be entranced by The Night Circus.  It is one of those hauntingly beautiful books and I think I am all the better for having experienced it as an audio book.

*Oh, and I loved Dog Days so much that I had to buy the sequel immediately.

*Budget be damned!  New Tricks (A Dog Days Novel) would be mine!!!

*It's been a while since I just enjoyed a story, not purchased or borrowed the book just because I couldn't find anything better.  At least it feels that way...

*Now I'm all about magic and ifrits and jazz!

*Happy.  It makes me happy.


Yes, it is the little things, isn't it?  Like how I had chocolates for dinner last night.  Of course, I ate all the chocolates and now it is 7:30 and I have no chocolates for dinner.  I might be reduced to jelly beans.    We'll have to see how that works out.

Who knows?  Maybe I'll work up the energy to make some brownies.  That is the very definition of pleasure, simple or not!

SA

WNBP: Pressurized

Happy Wednesday, Fellow Perusers Of The Inter-Webs!  Here we are, another midweek evening is upon us and I, your faithful Sheepie, am back to regale you with further tales from my ever-so-fascinating life.

Of course, if you are finding my life utterly engrossing, I would suggest you think about finding a hobby.  Perhaps something like skydiving or tiger mocking...you are in serious need of some excitement in your life.

Until you can manage the time for that, however, I'll see if I can keep you moderately entertained with this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post.


*I am back to school.  The April vacation week came to an abrupt and unwelcome end as vacation weeks are wont to do.

*Yes, I have survived three whole days of semi-consiousness and actual work.  I am certain you are sitting there wondering just how I do it...

*I am also fairly certain that no one wants to hear me whine about how this is the most grueling time of the school year as we all start looking ahead to summer vacation and the kids start to realize that there is a limit to our influence over their lives.

*Oh, woe is me!  I have to work for another forty or so days and they will be ever so hard...however shall I cope???

*I won't say it.  Just know I'm thinking it because there is a lot to do between now and the final bell and I somehow have to do it whilst wrangling kids who are more finished with this school business than I am.

*Wait...I have to squash a fly.  It's one of those stupid little ones that likes to come in through the screen and sit on my computer monitor.

*There.  The little bugger is now paste.  I'm just going to ignore the smudge he left as a reminder of my callous treatment of small creatures.

*I awoke this morning barely able to breathe.  The best I could manage was a shallow, "Ha-HUFF!"

*It was like a big bag of gelatin had been placed on me in order to see if I could inhale and exhale around its gooey, clingy mass.

*I'd been sleeping on my back, something I pretty much never do.

*And I was really, really HOT.  Like sweltering hot.  Like, "I should really consider icing down this stupid bed," hot.

*I was half-asleep, convinced that my heart was finally giving out after all those years of ice cream dinners and trying to find enough breath to make peace with my maker when I realized the actual problem.

*Fat siamese sleeping on my chest.

This isn't the actual scene.  It's a re-creation for your benefit since I don't keep a camera in hand at bedtime, ready and waiting for interesting shots.

*This isn't a really accurate re-creation since he didn't have that artful ray of sunlight dancing across his features, nor is this even the end of the beast I was staring at.

*But, you get the idea...

*I didn't dare move him.  The Very Complicated Kitty has issues.  And a startle reflex that belies his girth and general good nature.

*He's more of a "Strike First Ask Questions Later" kind of kitty.

*I know this from painful experience.

*All I could do was continue breathing shallowly and try to ease an arm close enough to the clock radio that I might shut off the alarm before its blaring bleat caused the resting beast to rip open my aorta whilst fleeing the scene.

*I also spent some time wondering how my principal was going to react when I called in to say I would be late due to a poorly placed feline.

*He moved on his own once he realized I was awake.  He wasn't happy about it, but I suspect he knew that feeding time was close and that Mommy needed full blood flow in order to manipulate cans and bowls.

*On the plus side, I picked up some ice cream on the way home.  Now that I know the pressure wasn't from my heart exploding in my chest, I can dine as I please!

*And since I've pretty much given up on ever getting around to eating dinner before 7:00, I don't have to worry about cooking times.  Ice cream is ready when I am!

*Although the lunch I need to pack for tomorrow might take a little more in the way of prep.  Need to add that to the night's to-do list.

*I hate having a to-do list at night.  I want to relax at night.  I want to mentally prepare myself for supporting the dead weight of a portly cat.

*But I also hate not having a lunch on Thursday so I suppose I should just suck it up.

*I can't have ice cream for lunch in front of children.  Ice cream as a meal is only legal if you are an adult and I don't want them getting ideas in their tiny, little veggie-craving brains.

*I don't normally give in to peer pressure when it comes to reading material.  I pick what I want based on what I like.

*Which is probably why I'm the last person in the free world to realize that The Night Circus is pretty much freaking AMAZING.

*Found the audio version available for download at the library.  Since it's narrated by Jim Dale, one of my all-time favorite readers, I gave it a shot.

*Of course, I probably shouldn't have been listening while I was driving through the back roads of nowhere yesterday trying to get to a meeting for which I was already late.

*I told them I was going to be late, but that didn't make me any less anxious about the whole business.

*For the record, it matters not that I have been to this remote location for several meetings over the years and one but a few weeks ago.  I can get lost between my own sofa and the bathroom.

*There's this one turn...it's tricky.  It's not my fault!

*Plus I was listening to a really good book...

*I've also decided to finally get down to reading Dog Days (A Dog Days Novel).

*It's one I've been eyeing for years but never quite got around to purchasing.

*So far, so good.  It's kind of got one of those Wizard In The City vibes to it and I know there's a lot of those around these days.  

*But still good.  Engaging main character and who doesn't love a bad boy musician?

*No regrets on that purchase.


OK.  I need to start thinking about that lunch for tomorrow.  Not to mention my ice cream dinner, although I'm kind of hungry enough to be thinking that something more substantial might be in order.  No pressure, though.  I shall dine as the mood moves me.

Lord knows I've got enough in the way of pressing matters.  For example, working for a living like the rest of the world and cats attracted to my warm, beating heart...

SA

WNBP: Relaxing Hard

I've spent the last hour trying to figure out just what the heck I was forgetting.  I knew there was something...I couldn't put my finger on it.

Oh, yeah!  I blog.  And it's Wednesday.  I know it's Wednesday because last night was the premier of Deadliest Catch and that meant it was Tuesday.  Tuesday precedes Wednesday and I know it is Wednesday because I have a note on the coffee table reminding me that I was going to Family Lunch with Mommy and Daddy Sheep on Wednesday at noon.

I'm still burping barbecue sauce which would imply that I made that date.  Hence...it is Wednesday.  So, only a half an hour behind schedule, here is the Wednesday Night Bullet Post!

*I blame Spring Break. 

*The April vacation is the one that reminds me of summer vacation days to come and I get pretty darned relaxed once that realization settles in.

*I fear that, come June, I will descend into a coma if this is going to be the state of affairs...

*I was very tired last Friday.  It was a long week. There was a great deal of..."stuff."

*The Maine Autism Leaders Team conference which required travel, something I don't do without annoying levels of angst.

*Knowing that my Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty had already foiled the auto-feeder designed to keep not just him, but also his brother, fed at a reasonable rate over the course of my overnight conferencing.

*Returning from the conference to my classroom where I discovered that several of my students were less than delightful in my absence.

*Then the horrible email that said one of my colleagues was killed in a tragic accident on her way to work that morning.

*One of the very women I'd just spent two days with at the conference.

*The ensuing emotional overload from the people who knew her far better than I as she was a lifelong member of the community.

*Lots of...."stuff."

*Friday is Cake Day at the middle school.  I don't recall why.  It just is.

*I don't normally partake in Cake Day because, by the time I can free myself up to get to the teacher's room, the cake has been touched by more hands than I am comfortable contemplating.

*Or it has been savaged down to crumbs.

*There was a lot more cake last Friday than is usual.  Some of it was in "cup" form.

*Cupcakes tend to get touched less since everyone can just pick up the one they want and, if I strategically snag one near the middle, I'll get an unsullied pastry.

*And I really, seriously needed me some Friday Cake after spending time with the school librarian who was a neighbor of the deceased and who had pictures of her as a child to share with me.

*Cake.  I needed cake.  I even bought more on the way home from school because cake suddenly seemed medicinal.

*This, as I mentioned earlier,is vacation week.  There is really something very comforting about kicking off vacation and ending a stressful work week with cake.

*I got into the spirit of vacationing pretty quickly after that.

*I woke up Monday feeling like there was something I was supposed to be doing.

*It was kind of like the shouldn't-I-be-blogging feeling only a little more urgent.

*Then I remembered.

*Apparently the government wanted me to do my taxes and they are kind of finicky about timelines.

*At least the federal government is.  My state couldn't care less.  Unless you owe them money and then they feel strongly about people filing by the fifteenth.

*Thankfully, I don't owe the state any money but that wasn't going to help me with my federal tax return, now was it?

*Taxes are filed.  I had a near miss with a few figures before I caught on to the fact that I'd entered all of last year's information instead of the more current data, but that was easily fixed.

*Frankly, I'm kind of proud of myself for catching the mistake what with the flurry of accounting required to get the stupid things done before midnight.

*We are going to ignore the fact that I waited until the last minute and then entered information from last year's return because that does not make me particularly proud of myself.

* I'm on vacation. 

*Which, as we all know, is no time to be feeling badly about one's self.  It's not a law, but it should be.

*Wait...I have to go feed the cats.  I'll be right back!

*There.  That's done.  Things get ugly around here when the feeding schedule goes awry.

*I have been awoken every morning this week at 5:45 on the dot by the Feline Choral And Face Batting Society.

*They are happy to have Mommy home this week.  It's been quite the love-fest here.

*But that could all change should I dare to sleep past 6:00.

*I'm typing this on my school laptop.  You don't really need to know that.

*Except that the video of the AGK cracking the automatic feeder isn't on this computer and I'm too bloated from vacationing and cake to go get it.

*Too bad.  It's really quite humorous if you have 1 minute and 22 seconds to spare.  I'll have to see what I can do about getting that posted when I'm back on schedule and not sitting around eating cake.

*I actually haven't had cake since this weekend.  I ate all the cake.  There is not more cake.

*I've moved on to brownies.

*And I don't like "cakey" brownies.  I like "fudgy" brownies.

*So I'm not eating cake anymore. 

*In the spirit of self-indulgence, I decided to make up a quick sugar scrub to prepare my feet for summer sandal season.

*The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty loves all things sugar.  And raw sugar mixed with grapeseed oil is apparently no exception.

*I had to hide my sugar scrub because he was nose deep in it every time I so much as blinked.

*He was licking the sink in which I rinsed my sugary hands following my self-made spa experience.

*He tried licking my feet but I think that was a bit much even for my little carb-a-holic so that didn't last long.

*Thankfully.

*He has a problem.  He needs help.

*I'd switch to a salt scrub but, given his love of potato chips, I suspect he'd be just as happy with that.

*My Very Complicated Kitty hasn't licked the sink at all this week.

*He is the mastermind behind the early morning wake up calls, but he isn't licking the sink so he is my favorite right now.

*Plus he's been very snuggly since I've been home and I like that.

*Speaking of "home," it's nice to have Mommy and Daddy Sheep back from their winter residence.

*And not just because they take me out to lunch.  Don't get me wrong.  I like lunch.  It's the one meal of the day I am eating on schedule now and who doesn't like it when it's free?

*But it's also nice to have the folks around.

*The one thing about vacation that isn't so nice is the lack of commuting time.

*Well...I like not paying for the gas.  That part is good.  But I miss the audio book time.

*I was right in the middle of Frost Burned (Mercy Thompson, Book 7).

*Fortunately, I did a little driving about today so that allowed me to listen a bit.  That's good.

*Otherwise, I might forget what was happening and then I will be all confused come Monday morning.

*Monday is Go Back To School Day.

*I won't be on vacation anymore.  Or resting.  Or relaxing.

*I'll be working.  And it will be the final push before the end of the school year.  Which is always kind of stressful.

*That's OK.  I've got this week of relaxing under my belt.  It should tide me over until I can do it for real.


That about covers it, week-wise.  It's really been about feeding the cats, cake and relaxing until it hurts.  (It can hurt, you know.  I'm old.  When I sit in one position for six hours at a time various joints stiffen up dreadfully...)  I like to think of it as practice for summer vacation.  It is inspiring.

Although I'm thinking I should maybe look into setting an alarm or something so I don't forget things like Wednesday.  Or dates very important to the government. 

SA

WNBP: Sheep Interrupted

Let's do this one straight up tonight, sans bullet points if you will.  It somehow seems like that kind of day.  It's healthy to interrupt the schedule sometimes.  Other times, it is simply out of boredom.  And I guess it's appropriate at times too, now that I think about it.

So here's your Wednesday Night Bullet Post, now, for a limited time only, in a Bullet-Free formula:

I am a SWOC.  (Single Without Children)  As such, I generally find myself in the minority. Even if there are other SWOCs around, they are almost always decades my junior and there isn't much common ground. Unless, of course, I am willing to be one of those oldsters who pretends that age is just a number and that one can "blend" by merely using enough of the current vernacular or wearing skinny jeans as if gravity is just a concept and not a reality after 40. 

I know better.  Sometimes I forget for a little while, but I like to think I've caught on by now.  I am a SWOC without delusions of grandeur.

Truthfully, I am more of a SWOCAPHWTTYVM (Single Without Children And Perfectly Happy With That Thank You Very Much).  However, I find that this is a very long title and that the time required to explain it often sounds to others like a justification of one's lifestyle and that just defeats the whole purpose of being "Happy With That, Thank You Very Much." 

Mostly I just keep my head down and pretend to be fascinated with tales of potty training or priceless heirlooms used as fort building material.  As a coping strategy, it has served me well for quite some time. 

I knew that the Maine Autism Leaders Team conference was going to be more of the same.  Even if I hadn't already gone to an earlier session, I could have predicted it.  It's a numbers game.  The likelihood that I'd be trapped for two days at a table full of mothers is fairly high if everyone going is female.  Mentally, I braced myself for the maternal deluge. 

It was as I thought.  Lots of kid talk and me with nothing to offer save a one minute and twenty-two second video of my Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty foiling the locking mechanism of the automatic feeder I tested over the weekend just to see what really happened when I set the stupid thing.  And I doubted if anyone would be interested in that.  Oh, they'd watch it, just to be polite.  But, frankly, there is nothing sadder than a SWOC pushing cat videos on the general public.  It's worse than stuffing a middle aged butt into skinny jeans and pretending to know what a Kardashian is. 

By day two, I was getting pretty good at smiling in all the right places while not really listening.  Besides, I was genuinely busy by then.  I had a whole flu situation in China that wasn't going to monitor it self, after all.  I'll admit I almost missed it when the lady to my right commented on how her daughter didn't want her to come to the conference this time.  I was a little late with my perfunctory, "aww," but I don't think anyone noticed.

She went on to say how strange it was.  "Mommy," the little girl begged, "I don't want you to go all the way up there because I am afraid you are going to crash on the highway and DIE!"

Well, that got my attention.  Crashing was a little more immediate and personal than the flu in another country, after all.  Sure, we'd made it up there in one piece, but now I had the image of a little kid going all "oracle" in my head and that is not the kind of thing one wants to be considering right before we pile into our cars to make the drive back.  I think we all felt kind of the same way because it seemed like a very half-hearted attempt to come up with a reason why a little girl would suddenly get all maudlin without warning.  She is, by all accounts, a generally cheery little tyke, at least according to her mother.

Best to just file that one under Funny Things Kids Say and get back to talking about where Johnny pooped that time we went to Grandma's.  That is Normal Parental Chatter, in my experience.  But maybe I'm just hanging with the wrong crowd.  At any rate, we left the conference and prepared to go back to school on Wednesday feeling fairly confident in our chances which proves that some things are best left unexamined.

At least most of the time...

The superintendent sent the mass email before noon today.  Within seconds, every staff computer in the district was Googling and soon the details (or at least what was known at the time) were common knowledge, complete with images.  It was Life Interrupted.

It happened sometime around 8:00 this morning,  probably on her way to drop the kids off before heading in to school for that first day back. Just like lots of people did this morning.  Just like me, except for the kids part.

Except we did it without the unexpected disruption in the plan.

 It had to have all happened pretty quickly, at least that is what I'd like to think.  Maybe even fast enough for the kids to have not seen.  Maybe their injuries were the kind that left them unconscious.  That would be better, if not exactly good.  It would give purpose to their pain.

She was a good teacher, very good.  In fact, she's the kind of teacher I thought I was going to be once upon a time.  At least until I tried it and realized that my skill set lay elsewhere.  She was funny and really excited about going to The Olive Garden for dinner on Monday night.  When we weren't working on our comprehensive plan to revamp our services for students with Spectrum disorders, she was on her laptop pulling together the five million things that need to get done for the Special Olympics next month.  Her team t-shirt design collaboration is going to be kick-ass. 

Many of her students won't understand what happened.  They are young, but also the kind of kids that make other parents hug their own offspring and think, "there but for the grace of God..."  They won't understand, but they will miss her and some will wonder why she said, "I'll see you on Wednesday," but then never came back. 

We weren't friends.  We were colleagues and we were both on the same committee.  But, I liked her as far as that relationship went and it is surreal to think someone you spent two days with could be gone less than 24 hours later.  Just like that. 

As far as her daughter 's fears are concerned, I chalk that up to coincidence.  Horrible coincidence, I grant you, but coincidence nonetheless.  The sort of thing that happens sometimes even if it shouldn't ever, ever happen.  That, to me, is preferable to the thought of a little girl believing that she is somehow responsible for a tragic, three car wreck that took her mother.  I think she probably has enough on her plate without that. 

Coincidence.  It's quick, it's random and it's ruthless in its desire to interrupt the best laid plans. You never know when your expectations will be suddenly sidelined or that you'll sort of wish you'd gone along when everybody headed out to The Olive Garden instead of staying behind to watch TV because you were tired of being around mothers for a whole day.  That's just the way it is.

But I think I'm maybe going to be a little more open to getting to know my colleagues better and perhaps even listen more fully, even when they talk about their kids.  You just never know when the next interruption will come.  Or if you'll be able to resume the conversation.

SA