Monday, June 4, 2012

If Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness Then Please Hear My Prayer Oh Lord!

Oh Lord,

Thank you for allowing me to see the humor in the fact that my daughter is mad at ME because the water main down the street is busted. 

Thanks for letting me giggle a little when she yelled at ME because now there is no water and how is she supposed to wash her hair because she has to go to work and they will send her home if she just puts it up in a pony tail and yes they will because you don't know them and now what is she supposed to do call in and tell them that we don't have any water and what do you mean go to a friend's house for a shower that's ridiculous! Gosh!

I'm just asking one thing, Lord.

Please help me not to giggle out loud gain or You-Forbid smile at her.

You gave her the same I'm.Going.To.Kill.You.In.Your.Sleep! glare that you gave me and her older sister and I'm a little worried.

Oh yes, Lord.

About the dog that had diarrhea 4 times in various places throughout the house last night...you know the one who waited until I sat down to recuperate from the horror of the clean up to vomit at my feet and immediately run away to have ANOTHER episode of diarrhea.

Um.......remember that broken water main?????


Just sayin' asking..........................


Amen

Disclaimer-Just so you know this is one great kid who makes me proud every day! Sometimes the drama of being 17 (or 50) is just more than a girl can handle!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

A Mother's Day Song



I hope you enjoy this very special Mother's Day ballad recently shown at my church, Southside Baptist!





How 'bout a buffet?

Just sayin'.....................................

Monday, May 14, 2012

Tina Fey Says It Best!

 Please enjoy one of my favorite prayers for mothers.


“First, Lord: No tattoos.
May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor
Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not
Damaged, for it’s the
Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the
Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered,
May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from
Acting but not all the way to
Finance.
 
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord?
Architecture?
Midwifery?
Golf course design?
I’m asking You, because if I knew,
I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the
Drums to the fiery rhythm of her
Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her
Own Arms, so she need
Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a
Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.
Let her draw horses and be interested in
Barbies for much too long,
For childhood is short –
a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day –
And adulthood is long
and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever,
That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers
And the online marketing campaign for
Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a
Bitch in front of Hollister,
Give me the strength, Lord,
to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,
For I will not have that Shit.
I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day,
be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her,
lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M.,
all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love
with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,”
she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.
 “My mother did this for me.”
And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation
and she will make a
Mental Note to call me.
And she will forget.
But I’ll know,
because I peeped it with
Your God eyes.”

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Happy Mother's Day


Happy Mother's Day to my first mother.
The one who chose life for me.
The one who's name I may never know.
The one who gave me life a second time
when she gave me back to God allowing Him
to give me a mama. The one I wish I could
meet in person so that I could thank her and
tell her how wonderful my life has been.

Happy Mother's Day to my real mother.
The one who gave me a name.
The one who taught me that unconditional
love is the birthright of EVERY child and
does not depend upon genetics. The one
who called me her precious angel, taught
me to bake a pound cake, love rainy days
paired with a good book and how to love
people. The one I miss more than I ever
thought possible and more than I ever thought
I could bear.

Happy Mother's Day to my sister who like
our own mother has helped raise children
she did not give birth to but who grew in
her heart instead. The one who honored
our mother and father in the most perfect
way possible without even knowing she did
so. The one who instinctively held the hand
of her 14 year old sister as we crossed a
parking lot and who still throws her arm across
me protectively if she has to stop the car
too quickly.

Happy Mother's Day to my mother-in-law who
raised a man whose heart is kind and generous.
The one who is a super hero who may appear
to be a mere accountant but who is stronger than
anyone knows. The one who fought her way through
hard times as treacherous as quicksand with a tenacity
I find amazing! The one who raised two boys alone
while teaching them to be strong in adversity, to love
whole-heartedly and to be good to people. To this
day they adore her and so do I!

Happy Mother's Day to teachers everywhere
who mother those who need it the most. You
see, we don't mother them all for many of them
have mothers who do a fine job. We mother the
ones who need us though. The ones who don't
know that they are a gift from God and are
wonderfully made.

Happy Mother's Day to my people. Who know
who they are and who mother me when I feel a
little bit orphaned. MNG forever!

And finally, Happy Mother's Day to the mothers
to be. Who remind us that life goes on and who
give us all reason to believe in miracles.

Today is a good day to be a mother!

Just sayin'.........................












Friday, May 4, 2012

Missing Mom



I am trying not to think about how I won't hear from my mother on my birthday this year and I am not being very successful.

I have stubbornly fought the gray, sad this week but right now, alone at home while in between doctor appointments, I can cry a little.

Two weeks ago the second anniversary of her death passed with little fanfare.

Part of me feels a little offended that there is no national holiday or parades with floats that support the Let's Eradicate Dumb, Stupid Gall Bladder Cancer Association. 

Most of me wants to be at the beach listening to the waves whisper and the birds answer.

When I get a little richer I will make a pilgrimage each year to her favorite beach. I will sit alone on the sand and look for the dolphins that often play there. I will dig in the sand underneath the shells and flip them over with my big toe. Like she taught me.

I will watch each wave and remember that life goes on just like they do and I will cry a little and feel God's perfect peace.

My birthday will forever be missing something. The tabernacle choir that called me each year on Cinco de Mayo will never be the same and while I don't feel much like celebrating a friend reminded me that Mom loved my birthday so I plan to pull up my big girl britches and have a great day with most of the people I love the best. 

I do not write about sad times or scary times for sympathy or attention.

I write about them for me.

I really despise the kid glove treatment and have an almost uncontrollable urge to throw something pointy at well intentioned people who tiptoe around me.

I much prefer some inappropriate humor or the way my boss-friend punches me in the shoulder and says-It'll be okay. Except the sore shoulder part. She hits hard!

I like how my gang knows to say things like-
I think you are sad and having a hard time. Do you want to talk about it or would you rather hit Mrs. Fabulous?

I don't know why she always flinches when they say that.

Just sayin'..................................

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

How To Traumatize a Kindergartener in One Easy Step

Disclaimer:No Kindergartners were INTENTIONALLY traumatized in the following story that may or may not have happened to me or someone else sometime in the past.

Anyone who has ever attempted to convince one five or six year old to voluntarily leave the playground can appreciate the sometimes monumental task of rounding up twenty or more little wild rascals and getting them all back inside their classrooms.  It is not uncommon for this process to send even a veteran teacher into a tizzy.

Imagine with me, a playground teeming with children. Picture these children running around like ants who have discovered a lollipop on the ground. Let's just say for the sake of our discussion that a co-worker who has had to walk a child inside for some reason has asked me someone to bring in her class with mine theirs.

Okay, let's just pretend like this happened to me. Just to, you know, make it easier to tell the story.

As is my usual custom, I blew my whistle while waving my hand back and forth. Turning the volume of my super sized megaphone up all the way I call for my co-worker's children to line up beside my class.

As I headed up toward the front of my line to break up a wrestling match worthy of the WWF I suddenly realized something even worse than a sleeper hold was occurring in Mrs. Co-worker's line.

One of her little girls was pinching the front of her shirt between the fingers of both hands while yelling,

I ain't got no titties, I ain't got no titties!

Whirling around and bending to eye level I confronted her.

Did you just say I ain't got no titties?!?!?!

She froze. And nodded. And carefully let go of her shirt.

Gasp!!!!  You did???? Did you really say I ain't got no titties?!?!?!

Again, the nod.

Let's just say I was....appalled.

Lips firmly pressed together in horror I finished herding the last few hold outs into one line or another and marched both lines to the classrooms.

Upon arriving at the large meeting area outside the kindergarten classrooms I invited my little friend to share her information with the paraprofessional that works with Mrs. Co-worker.

Bursting into tears she confessed,

I was dus sayin I ain't got no titties.

Let's just say....that information was not well received.

I got on with the business of teaching a few lessons and was helping the student pack their backpacks with pictures drawn that day, art projects completed and worksheets with smiles on them.

The door to my classroom opened and in marched Mrs. Co-worker
followed by our little friend.

Mrs. Co-worker asked me to tell her about the scene I witnessed on the playground and I did so with all the self righteous indignity I could muster.

And as I relayed my story our precious friend burst into tears.

When I finished repeating her EXACT words one more time her teacher very quietly said,

She says she was saying I got Hello Kitties.

Very slowly, I followed Mrs. Co-workers eyes and

I looked at her shirt.

Of course.

It was a Hello Kitty shirt.

Barely moving my lips I asked,

Ummm, she doesn't have a little speech problem, does she.

Mrs. nodded,
She does.

Nodding back I bent down and asked,

Sweetie, did you say I ain't got no titties or did you say I got Hello Kitties?

Sweetie nodded.

Which one did you say, sweet girl?

Sweet girl shrugged.

After repeating my questions and receiving the same response I looked at her teacher and allowed as to how I had made a terrible mistake.

Lots of kindergartners substitute the t sound for the k sound.

Nodding, Mrs. Co-worker carefully drew a line through the note she had already written in sweet girls agenda and added a note of explanation.

To make a funny story even funnier the note her mom wrote back said, "She usually says boobies at home but when I asked her about this I couldn't tell what she was saying either!"

Thank God for the cool moms....


Just sayin'........


P.S. I apologized profusely to sweet girl and while I feel sure that she has forgiven my poor hearing she continues to look at me out of the corner of her eye. Kinda like you watch the scary crazy person talking to themselves in the Wal-mart.




Sunday, April 22, 2012

Two Years Today

 This was a post I wrote on April 22nd of last year. I tried to write again but Life goes on and sometimes tears and sadness have to take a back seat to proms and laundry. I miss her more than I ever thought I could but I have found that for me grief cannot be scheduled. It always comes when it wants. So today I nod in grief's direction and get on with the business of life. 

I'll think of our favorite place, Mom. It always helps to remember those good times with you.  Love you!

Ann Marie




I just can't pretend that today isn't a sad day for me.

My heart's desire was to be somewhere else today.

A place we both loved.

A place where waves roll in time to the beat of
my heart and the sand waits to catch the tears.

A place made of salt, sand, breezes and
the occasional dolphin dancing in the water.

A place where storms are as welcome as the sun.
Maybe even more so.

A place where seashells and smiles live.
Where family became family again.
Where food tasted better and had no calories.

I think it would have been easier there.

The infuriating thing about grief is that I am unable
to schedule it's attacks on my composure.

When I most want to cry...
to release some pent up
sorrow and anger...
stubborn tears refuse to come.

Other times when all I want to do is
get through.....
Survive it all
without a scene
the tears fall effortlessly and uncontrollably.

One short, endless, year ago today,
I held her hand for the last time
as her soul took flight.



It was at once the most painful
moment of my life and the most
joyful.

Not good-bye.

Just.....

See you later, Mama.
Dance with Jesus for me.

Just sayin'.............

Friday, April 20, 2012

The Sad

In years past I have liked the month of April.

One of my brothers was born in April and April 15th has long been a happily anticipated date for my family. It is the date that my father and my sister can finally quit working the loooooong week day hours and Saturdays of tax season.

Thank God for funny kids and funny co-workers who are more family than co-workers. I work in a place where something funny happens every day and that is a great place for people that need humor to survive.

I have been trying all week to chase away the sad with humor. Although it has helped me to keep tears at bay in front of little children it has been an epic battle.

The sad is a formidable foe that squeezes through the chinks in my armor more insidiously than a rumor spread during prayer requests in a Baptist church.

April has become a month of sad anniversaries.

The saddest being the anniversary of my mother's death here on earth.

While I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that my mother lives in heaven with Jesus now I still grieve her loss.

The grief is sometimes calmer now but there continue to be days when it slams into me like an F5 tornado wiping away every trace of composure I have managed to build.

There are still days when I reach for my phone once I am on my way home from work only to realize that once again I am automatically dialing her number.
And every.single.time. I walk through difficulty, pain or crisis I long for her presence and her words.

My mother told me once that she was afraid she would die of cancer as had so many of her relatives. I don't think it was a fear she dwelled on and she probably didn't even remember telling me. I never forgot though and her diagnosis was a silver shard of ice that pierced my heart.
 
She was sick for so long.
She went to the doctor time after time looking for answers.
I worried so much.
I wished I lived close enough to be able to run by her house on the way home for work. Not because I thought she wasn't being taken care of but because I am a person who's soul can't rest until I lay eyes and hands on the one I worry about.

Sixteen days.
It is all the time I had with Mama after the diagnosis.
It was not enough.
I was not done with her.

The old saying that God never gives you more than you can handle is untrue.
Losing her so quickly was far more than I could handle.
I wanted to listen to the waves with her one more time.
One more time I wanted to watch her slip her toes underneath a half buried sea shell and flip it over to see if it were worth bending over to pick up.
I wanted to sit together quietly once more. Each of us reading a good book.
I wanted to to hear her call me her precious angel a thousand more times.

Yes, I do believe that God allows us to be burdened with far, far more than we can handle.
It is part of this thing we call life.
The good news is that He is just one prayer away.
My mama taught me that.

Anyone who thinks that I could have taken care of my mama those last days and held her hand as she took those last breaths all by myself is crazy as a kid full of Easter candy.

It was the hardest and yet the most holy time of my life.

As I walk through another tough April I remind myself that all I have to do is put one foot in front of the other and remember to ask for help when I need it.

My mama taught me that too.

Just sayin'...............................


Aren't they cuter than a speckled pup?





Wednesday, April 18, 2012

OINK-Only IN Kindergarten

I have this kid in my room this year who has to be the happiest person I have ever met.

I want to be just like him when I grow up.

To this bright spot in my day chairs are not for sitting.
In fact, he routinely falls from his chair for no apparent reason other than his own propensity to shake, rattle and roll.

Ever heard of planking?
It involves balancing one's stiffened body across an object. 
He does it every day.

Sometimes he teeters across his chair.
Sometimes he has an elbow on the table and a knee on his chair.
I cannot begin to list the insane positions he has been able to achieve using only one small blue chair and the edge of his table.

Several times a day I realize that he has disappeared.
This usually results in an exasperated ever so slightly impatient yell redirection from his teacher and he pops up from under the table or under the chair.

And that face, that cute little face that belongs in an episode of The Little Rascals (look it up young people), has that smile on it.

And I can't help but smile back.
And I also forget that I am exasperated.
(Note to self-grin more, people will forget why they are annoyed.)

Today he hopped (really) across the room to interrupt me as I spoke with a co-worker.

We ignored him until we heard...IT.
One of those words you just don't want to hear in a classroom of five year olds.
One of those words you will spend ten or seventy minutes discussing with offended kids, giggling kids and curious kids.

We stopped in mid sentence to hear...

Mrs. Frazzled, Mrs. Frazzled! I dint bwing my pee-is to schoo' today!  I dint bwing my peeis to schoo' today!

Huh? What? Wait! What did you say?

I dint bwing my peeis to schoo' today!

Ummmmmm, say that again I didn't understand you.

Big sigh-I dint bwing my pee-is to schoo'!

You didn't bring your.........(I can't say it so I substitute my next best guess) pants? to school today?

Another big sigh-I.dint.bwing.my.PEE-IS.to.schoo'.today.
(I know he was wondering why he had to be stuck with the deaf teacher)

Sweetie, I hear you I just don't know what you are saying.

He searched among the junk on my desk,
found what he needed and said even louder-I.dint.bwing.my.PEEIS.to.schoo'.today!

All this while holding a PENCIL two inches from my nose.

You see, Smiley has been purchasing a lead pencil from the school store on a daily basis for quite sometime. These pencils come inside a clear plastic tube.
Said tube makes a great light saber, a fabulous straw, an awesome telescope and a fantastic way to get the teacher to holler. It shouldn't surprise anyone that his teacher has been urging him to stop the retail therepy.

When I finished laughing we sat down to practice including the n and the l sounds in the word pencil!

I feel sorry for you people that have regular jobs.



Just sayin'......................................


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Jesus Loves Me

To the tune of the REAL Jesus Loves Me

Jesus loves me this I know.
He cares when I'm down and low.
He knows I don't remember real good
And leave my iPad on my hood.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
He knows just what thrills me.
Yes, Jesus knows me
I'll tell you how I know.

When I was driving home at last
I saw something black fly by real fast.
My heart stopped and I screamed,"Nooooooooooooooooo!"
My poor iPad is in the road.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
He knows just what thrills me.
Yes, Jesus knows me.

In the turn lane there she lay
I felt all hope slip away.
Jumping out I ran to her
She was shattered, I was sure.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
He knows just what thrills me.
Yes, Jesus knows me
I'll tell you how I know.

Even though so far she flew
My iPad was good as new.
Jesus knew this month is bad
So he saved my sweet iPad.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
He knows just what thrills me.
Yes, Jesus knows me
I'll tell you how I know.
  
This really did happen.
The month of April is really bad for me.
My iPad really did survive!
And I really do thank Jesus!


Just sayin'...........................

Monday, April 16, 2012

Monday, Monday

Today I had to come straight home from work
to bow my head in prayer for a better attitude.

And that is all I have to say about this day.

 Just sayin'....................



Sunday, April 15, 2012

The One Who Speaks the Truth

We sat together at the small round table.
Our heads were close together as we both looked at the work she never finds as engaging as say...
the sound of someone else breathing
or...
the hem of her pants.

I'm gonna help you get finished so you can have some free time, I say in my special-I'm being ever so patient with you-teacher voice.

Nodding, she sticks out her tongue in the position required for hard work.

I watch as she carefully writes letters.

Keep going, don't stop I urge. Pay attention I admonish. Focus on your work, look back at your paper I say in my super fancy slightly high pitched-I'm hanging on to my patience by a thread-teacher voice.

Finally, the last letter is painstakingly written and she looks up at me as I wearily cheer for her.

She gazes into my eyes for several moments and I wait for the heartfelt thanks that must be coming.

Your eyes look red and bad, she says.  Maybe you need to get a little sun.

Clunk.
That was the sound of my head hitting the table.

She keeps me humble, that one.


Just sayin'......................

  

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Nature is Sometimes Highly Over-rated

A few days ago I headed down the stairs leading from the back porch to the yard. I generally take my time walking down these stairs. Our house by the lake sits so high on a hill that the view is always worth a few extra moments.

This time of year I can see turtles in the lake and the ducks and geese that fill our days with noise honks and quacks.

Sounds a lot like my day in the classroom.

Smile.

The tree that grows beside the landing is so beautiful to me. I love to see it's dark branches silhouetted against the winter sky as much as I love to watch the limbs transform into luscious blooms and deep green leaves.

This is what it looks like as I descend the stairs.


One day during my Spring Break

I was more than a little

surprised to see this

fellow staring at me

from it's hiding place.

He was apparently digesting the TWO! large bulges visible along
it's thick, long, intimidating body.

No one ever told me that SNAKES! grew on trees.



It's worse than snakes on a plane.


Frankly I would prefer that all snakes live....I dunno...
at my neighbors.

Just kidding.

Kinda.


Just sayin'......................................





Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Uncle Fermor

On April 6, 2012
my father's beloved older brother
Fermor Robinson Hargrove, Jr.
slipped away from this earth and flew
to heaven where he joined his sweet wife Mattie Beall, his baby boy Robbie and his daughter Sue.

Uncle Fermor was one of those people that others loved to be around. No one is happy all the time but I cannot recall a time when I saw my Uncle frown.

He wore a string tie everyday, drove up until a few months ago
and had an amazing memory. In fact, he had a better memory
than most people I know!  

While Uncle Fermor certainly had his share of life's tragedies
you were guaranteed a smile and a hug anytime you were in his
presence.

He buried a baby boy and a daughter.
Both taken suddenly and far, far too soon.
He also buried a wife he loved very much.

In the eulogy my daddy gave this afternoon he said that
he had seen his brother beat up by life a few times but
he had never ever seen him bitter.

That is a trait we should all aspire to emulate.

This afternoon my daddy stood in one of many pulpits
he has stood in and spoke as he has so many times before.
We southerners call it preaching a funeral.

This must have been one of the hardest funerals he has
taken part in but he paid great homage to his brother.

I know that all of my daddy's children were proud of the
strength and courage he exhibited today.

Daddy spoke of love and loss and hope.
He spoke of the peace and the eternal life we
are promised.

He spoke of the love and friendship
shared by two brothers.

He spoke of a man who will be missed by so many.


Just sayin'......................
















Sunday, April 8, 2012

You Might Be A Teacher If.........

One lesson I have learned while spending most of my time
hanging out with five year olds is that sometimes it is best for
the teacher to face some issues (pun intended) openly and honestly.

Sometimes those who live mostly in the world of adults
and politeness
and good manners
are very surprised at what some of our classroom
discussions might include.

You might be a teacher if
you can say any of the following without flinching.

Everybody passes gas.

Passing gas means......um.......poot.

Yes, lots of people do say fart at home but at school we try to remember to say pass gas.

I did not just say a cuss word I just said an impolite word.

We don't have to scream or act crazy every time someone passes gas.

We are not going to argue about who just passed gas.

We do not yell out DANG! when one of our friends passes gas.

I am NOT laughing because someone passed gas I just have a tickle in my throat.

Please do not say ewwwww and try to change seats with someone else during group time.

Yes, I know something smells bad. Let's keep reading.

And finally, when the situation is unbearable....

Okay, whoever is passing gas needs to go to the restroom.
As a matter of fact, let's all go.


It's a smelly job
But it's still the best job in the world.




Just saying'...........

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

About the Dream I Dreamed Last Night

Last week a student asked me if I had a mama.

Yes, I do, I answered. But she lives in heaven now.

Oh, and you're sad?

Yeah. When I miss her, I'm sad.

Oh, she said.

And when she leaned her head against mine
it was as soothing as cool water on a burn.

We stayed that way, her head against mine and her little
hands patting my back in silent sympathy until
she darted off to finish an activity.

I think my mom sent her to love on me.

I dreamt of my mother last night.

She came to me in my dream but I left
before finding out why she was there.

She walked in as I was changing clothes
in a room that was dim and crowded.

I was glad to see her but admonished her
for carrying a heavy laundry basket.

Mama, give me that, I ordered. You know
I dont want you carrying anything that heavy.
Sit here. How are you? I asked.

I'm okay, she answered.
But her voice was tired and in my dream
I was worried.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Then I woke.
Gasping. Sweating.
Immediately sorry.
Sorry for leaving
my dream too soon

I miss her so.
I am still not ready to be a child without a mama.
Sort of a half orphan.

With her, I could be a child again if I needed to.

Her child.

She would listen to me alot, advise me just a little 
and then she would pat me on the butt
and send me back out into the world again
a little stronger.

That's what mamas do, you see.
They help us grow up.

Sometimes with kind words.
Sometimes with a swat on our rear ends.
But in their hearts
we remain their babies.

I just miss being her baby.


Just sayin'...............................





Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Sometimes

Sometimes heroes come in small packages

Sometimes a kindergarten teacher may be a little squeamish about smushing bugs.
 
Sometimes the thought of the crunchiness and the guts will make a kindergarten teacher unwilling to step on the half-dollar sized spider.

Sometimes a very wise kindergarten teacher will cheerfully yell, “Who wants to come squash this big, fat brown spider?”

Always, an eager little hero will rush forward.

Sometimes that hero will be a  girl whose red hair is gilded with gold.

And sometimes that sweet, innocent, beautiful child will turn into a ninja and grind that hairy spider into the carpet with her sparkly, pink light up tennis shoes.

And then she will check the bottom of her shoe for guts and walk demurely back to her place in line.

And ALWAYS, the teacher will struggle to keep a straight face while thanking her little hero!

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Home Sweet Home

Today is the last day of my Winter Break.
My car has been parked in the same spot for five wonderful days!

I am convinced that I could stay home for weeks at a time.
All I need is someone to bring me groceries.
I absolutely love this house and I absolutely love being here.

Something very strange has happened during these sweet, quiet days.
I have no explanation for it and I know that it will cause great concern to all who know me well.

I have risen early...well early-ish every day.  Without giving away the exact time lets just say I've been up and going well before the morning news shows are done. 

I have gotten so much done around this house by the lake lakelit lakette big giant pond.

I have cleaned rooms and clothes.
I have stripped wallpaper from multiple (8) long walls.
I have vacuumed and steam cleaned carpets and cooked dinner (well maybe just once but I can't get all this stuff done if I have to stop working to cook).
I have sewn blankets and burp pads and I have crocheted a baby blanket, hat and boots. Not booties. Boots!
And I have spent some quality time on Pinterest.
But that was mostly work related. Well, some of it was.

Sadly, it all ends tonight.
Tomorrow is another work day. A day full of fabulous sitting. All day.

I won't publish my thoughts on what TPTB have planned for us tomorrow. I need this job for at least three more years. And that's all I'm going to say about that!

I just hope the fast food restaurants located between the two sites the entire elementary staff for the county has been assigned has been notified that all bazillion of us will be hungry and in a hurry.

It is a little know fact that teachers live for those days when we get to eat lunch like grown-ups.


Just sayin'..................