Vent.Vent.Vent.Vent.Vent,

I started to write a whiny vent, had to leave to get groceries as the cupboard was bare, came back and thought better of it.

Suffice to say that sometimes venting is exactly the right thing to do, that one needs to have friends and blogger friends who will sympathize, but this was not the time.

It is wonderful though, to know that there are people I will never meet, who will say comforting things, and that is quite wonderful and amazing.

Thanks anyway.

Superbowl Ripoffs

Superbowl tickets: $2,800 -$5,000

Parking: $65 - $300

Super 8 - $500 a night

Rent your home - set your own price.

Ah, the trouble with NCLB

In case you have been under a rock NCLB stands for "No Child Left Behind". I don't believe anyone knew that it would become a front for the testing companies to rake in billions of dollars on the backs of children. In years to come all the horrors that have come about as the result of this egregiously misnamed program will fill volumes.


Having just finished conferences this last week I reflect on NCLB. All but one of my sixth graders grade's improved. All have shown maturity. These kids are funny, kind, smart and, yes, very sweet. I call them my "little cupcakes and sweatshirts." They know I love them.


One little girl, truly a tiny thing, about the size of an eight year-old, has an amazing talent in drawing, but academically she has done something I didn't think possible; she has failed all but one subject. Her mother says that this has been ongoing and now she plans on sending her to a commercial tutoring center. The assessment costs $4,000. The child has no learning disabilities. She really doesn't care. The mother asked, "How do you make a child care?" My caring and encourgaement have been fruitless and I don't regard punishment as a viable method of motivation as so many parents and teachers do. The mother and I aren't really on the same page on that. *sigh*


I still feel badly for this child, but in my ongoing "Let It Go" mode I have learned that I am not a magician. I am a teacher. I am human. If I could make all kids love to learn then I could move on to cure all addicts. Yet, NCLB expects all teachers to be magicians.

WHAT IF....

...you were allowed only one New Year's Resolution for the year 2008. What would it be?

What do you do about jerks?

Rant #1:
I ran to the “U-Mail-It” (not its real name) store to mail back an unwanted (Danish modern???) candlestick and something else that I accidentally ordered. (Hint: be careful what you leave in your cart: Amazon will mail it to you and, doggone it, charge you for it, too!) There were two men of a certain age ahead of me in line, who appeared to be life partners; not in a flamboyant way, but in a sweet and comfortable way. After they left the clerk, who was a kid in his early 20's, I'd guess, made a nasty comment about them to his manager, then shuddered to show his revulsion. I was enraged, everything was rung up so I couldn't leave, but I did not know what to do other than be very cold towards him. (I know, then I looked like a jerk.)

What could I have done? I would like to complain to the “U-Mail-It” headquarters. I think that’s what I will do. Thanks. I feel better for venting.

Rant #2:

Went to the discount card store next to buy paper goods on sale. (See below about the red plates I lost and found. Don’t let me forget that the beautiful poinsettia plates are in the top shelf of my office closet!) The clerk made a comment about Christmas, and the man next to me in line, and a pathetic Mr. Know-It-All said, “Christmas is over.” Gee, really? Lately I have made an effort not to engage people of that ilk in conversation, and I should have done so this time but I was still brooding about the hate I saw at the “U-Mail-It” store so I said, “But the Christmas bills are coming.”

Mr. Know-It-All replied, “My daddy said to never buy anything you can’t pay for.”

Me, “Well, I’ll just let your daddy pay for all my stuff then.” Not the snappiest of come backs I know, but good grief, what a creep.

I am not a tattoo fan but I may need to have “Let It Go” tattooed on the back of my hand where it would be a constant reminder.

The Miracle of the Little Red Plates

Here it was Christmas Eve afternoon and I was baking hundreds of cookies for our neighbors. Each year every neighbor gives a little gift of either food or some little hand made decoration. My contribution is chocolate chip cookies. Don’t be impressed. Big box store makes the best break-apart-ready bake chocolate chip cookies, so all I had to do was put them in the oven. It still takes a good chunk of time to actually get them baked, wrap them up and then deliver them.

I thought I might as well start getting them wrapped up when I realized I had taken the red plastic plates to school for our class Christmas (– oops! Holiday) party. I wasn’t willing to put the cookies on generic white paper plates. It looked like I was going to have to make a last minute run to the store. Crapolia!

The truth was nobody, I mean NOBODY, would care if the darn cookies were on white paper plates except me. I just couldn’t do it. Here I was with hundreds of cookies so I knew I would have to try to get holiday plates at the 11th hour. Crapolia!

I had nothing to lose so I made one last look in the pantry and, low and behold, there was a stack of the red plates. I have no memory of them, but there they were, and I was so grateful for this little miracle. I was absolutely tickled. How terrifically nifty to find those plates!

So, this next year I will make an effort to share those sweet little miracles with you, blogger-friends, because all those little miracles are, I believe, probably more important than one big whopping miracle.

Merry Christmas to All!

No Sexism intended, but NO MEN ALLOWED!

Thank you to the genius across the pond who came up with this. Utter brilliance and scathing truth!

http://glumbert.com/media/mancold

Look what was found on the playground.

One of my students found a bullet on the playground. It was not a used shell. I have never even touched a bullet before. I carried it to the office afraid that it would explode. I handed it gingerly to my principal. She looked at it, sighed, and said, "I'll add it the others."

Blonde joke .... since I am one I can tell this.

Tale of the Blonde Horseback Rider


A young blonde woman decides to try horseback riding, even though she has had no lesson or prior experience. She bravely mounts the horse, unassisted, and the horse immediately springs into action. As it gallops along at a steady and rhythmic pace, the blonde begins to slip from the saddle.

In terror, she grabs for the horse's mane, but cannot get a firm grip. She tries to throw her arms around the horse's neck, but she slides down the side of the horse anyway. The horse gallops along, seeming imperious to its slipping rider.

Finally, losing her frail grip, the blond attempts to leap away from the horse and throw herself to safety. Unfortunately, her foot becomes entangled in the stirrup, and she is now at the mercy of the horse's pounding hooves as her head is struck against the ground over and over and over. As her head is battered against the ground and she is mere moments away from unconsciousness, to her great fortune, Frank, the Wal-Mart greeter, sees her and unplugs the horse.

I'm almost done!!

I am so pleased with myself because I have most of my Christmas shopping done. Hooray! Hooray! The secret? Shop online when there is free shipping.

I know many people like going to the mall; the decorations, music, hustle and bustle gets them in the spirit, but that just makes me feel claustrophobic and anxious.

I have already made a couple of trips to the post office, bringing a book with me to pass the time, and keeping me from beating people to a bloody pulp who, first, don't have their stuff wrapped for mailing or, second, decide it's time to visit with the post office employees. Also, having a book with me keeps people from turning to me in line to complain about the terrible service. It's the post office folks, and it is what it is.

My daughter is right; it's fun to get things done ahead of time.

Worst Christmas Gift

Do you remember the worst Christmas gift you ever got? What was it? Who gave it to you? How did you react? Did you keep it? Did you use it? Did the giver know that it was not appreciated? (Think the pink bunny suit from the movie, "The Christmas Story.")

In praise of paper towels

I just love paper towels. Always have, always will.

I know my love affair with paper towels started when I was fairly young; probably around seven. Back in the 1950’s paper towels came in one color: white. They were rough and scratchy. I don’t know why my mother ever bought them because we weren’t allowed to use them.

Paper towels were kind of like the good china; they were to be saved for special occasions. What that mystery occasion was I don’t know, but the paper towels were mounted by the kitchen sink on the ugly steel paper towel holder. Maybe it was a special good luck kitchen talisman.

Come to think of it, I believe we only had one roll of paper towels that moved with us from house to house like the good couch. I think that same roll was with my family by the time I got married. I wonder whatever happened to it.

Now I buy colorful paper towels by the dozens from Sam’s Club and I use them freely. I used a ton of them on Thanksgiving after all the warnings about not contaminating anything. I should use that many paper towels anytime I cook (which is infrequently) but I don’t think about food contamination except on big holidays.

Gary likes to use the hand towels. I used to think that hand towels were used after you washed your hands but he uses them to mop up around the sink which I think is gross, however it gives me an excuse to rip off the choose-a-size paper towel and wipe my hands.

So here is to the inventor of the paper towel, and no I don’t feel I am wasting the environment because I recycle all my paper. If they can chuck newspapers full of stupid paper-wasting circulars I can use my paper towels.

I love my paper towels.

Tagged Again: coffee mug messages.

List the characters or messages on seven coffee mugs that are in your cupboard (bonus points if you can do this without looking):

First, no one will drink my watery coffee, except me. I make a cup at a time. No one will drink Gary's coffee/paint remover, except him.


My favorite mug is one of three huge mugs that I got on clearance at Tuesday Morning. I believe it was actually a promotional give-away for the show "WILDFIRE!" on the Discovery Channel. I never heard of it, actually. Who sold Tuesday Morning these promotional cups that were supposed to be given away?

Gary’s favorite mug is one that I originally bought him at Mall of America and has a beagle on it. He broke the original. One of my students gave me one just like it so he has to make do with its twin. It gives a brief description of beagles as being merry little dogs with sad faces and bell-like barks.

Alexandra gave us a number of mugs: the Gary Larson “Angel of Migraine” with the grim reaper in boxing gloves leaving a house where the woman has obviously been clonked on the head. I think I bought the Bob Bullock Museum cups, but she was with me. Most recently she got us the Saint Louis cups.

I have a number of ugly Christmas cups, that were gifts from students. They are the kind of seasonal cups they sell at Walgreen’s or the Dollar stores and contain some really vile candy. There are usually five pieces of candy scotch-taped on cardboard over a styra-foam insert which is inside the cup. These almost always come from kids who can least afford a gift so I always feel sentimental about them. I have a number of Valentine cups received under similar circumstances. I must pass them on to the Good Will, there are simply way too many.

I tag whoever is willing to take on this coffee cup challenge. Just let me know.

I've been tagged. 10 things you don't know about me.

(1.) I am, according to my husband, the world's worst liar.

(2.) I am enjoying maturing because I am becoming who I always wanted to be.

(3.) My greatest teachers have been my own children and grandchildren.

(4.) I believe most people are good (Anne Frank had it right.)

(5.) I have never shot a gun, and have never come close to a situation where I thought I might need one. Never!

(6.) I am highly allergic to alcohol.

(7.) My cooking abilities are pathetic. I have actually graduated up to pathetic.

(8.) I am a cat whisperer.

(9.) I was Miss Babe Ruth Baseball in ninth grade.

(10.) I have no idea why anyone would ever get a tattoo.

I tag Neva, Joy and Evonne.

I AM SO BAD, AND NOT SORRY!

When my 6th graders asked what they could bring for the Halloween party I said, "Anything you want."
"You mean -" gasp, dare they say it?, " candy?"
"This is Halloween. It ought to be fun."

I guess this underground rebellion is spreading. I found out I was not the only who decided that healthy food was out for Halloween. I am so glad, and I, for one, am not sorry.

P.S. to "I told you so."

We had more then enough candy, and less than 50 trick or treaters. Our days of 200 kids were when I taught at the neighborhood school, and, since everyone knew where I lived came, plus their siblings. Also, our neighborhood kids have grown up but the parents have stayed.

So, the days of 200 trick or treaters are gone. Now I have it in my blog and will more than likely remember for next year and can avoid another round of my egotistical one up-man-ship with my husband. As the kids would say, "My bad."

How do you NOT say "I told you so."

I may have to eat my words on this one. Husband and I were at big box warehouse store when he said, "Shouldn't we get some Halloween candy?" Don't like to purchase it there, but did; a $10 bag of Skittles and Starburst with 200 tiny packages of candy inside.

We live in a neighborhood where LOTS of kids are dropped off. It is not unusual to have 200 kids, and we'll look like Halloween Scrooge if we give a kid one tiny envelope with two Starburst or six Skittles in it. Technically, this package of candy would do us, but that is so chintzy. Yes, I want to give out the good stuff (as in good stuff that I won't be tempted to eat.)

Do I shut up knowing that this bag of candy will not be sufficient, or do I go out and buy more and not tell My Cheapo? I'll let you know.

A Survey for my students. Thanks for helping.

My latest goal is doing things ahead of time. My daughter, Alexandra, has always been the queen of doing things ahead of time. As a child she would come home, do her homework and then play. I once asked her, "How do you do that?" She looked at me quizzically with those aqua blue eyes and said, "If I get my work done then I don't have to worry about it, then I can go play and have fun!" I never taught her that. ( She is left-handed, however.)

I have battled procrastination for a most of my life. When I started goal-setting one of my major goals was to overcome my last-minute-Liz-itis. (Thank you for not rolling your eyes. I don't blame you. I'd roll my eyes, too.) Now I was ready for the next step.

This last year my big goal was to "LIG" or, "Let it go". That was a tough one. Probably the toughest of all, but learning to let go has been one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done. I am now able to let go of the majority of things that bug me. Another way of putting it is that I learn to forgive myself and others. Man! I would have done that decades ago had I known the amazing benefits of letting go.

I have a darling girl in my class this year who waves her hand wildly after an assignment is given and asks, "Can I hand this in early?" I told the class that this young woman was destined for success and happiness in her life. Guess what? It was contagious. Many of the other students started doing it too. We made it a class goal. "I get my work done ahead of time." I was on the bandwagon, too.

So, Alexandra, I am trainable. How many times have you been told that one of the greatest reasons to have children is that they teach you so much? I always wanted to get things done ahead of time, but it was something I just wasn't ready to do because I really didn't think I was even capable of it. Now I am! It is like time-travel. Seriously!

Dear Blogger Friends, here's my question: do you do things ahead of time? Have you always been that way? What are the benefits? Were you like me and just didn't think you were that type of person? Please let me know as I want to share your success stories with my students.

THANKS!

Parent-Teacher-Student Conferences - A Bad Start

(1.) Parent requests change in conference from Monday (THE DAY HE REQUESTED) to Tuesday. I copied his original request along with the change.

Same parent sent in field trip permission slip with his signature and none of the emergency info filled in.

(2.) Parent calls in to say she can't make it to Friday's conference but she could come Wednesday, her day off, or any time next week. Parent NEVER returned the sheet that gave her time preferences. THERE ARE NO CONFERENCES NEXT WEEK. Will offer that parent two choices of phone conference time. Her child claims to live at grandma's, and shouldn't even be going to our school. Child is in serious academic trouble. Gee, I wonder why the child is so flaky?

(3.) First conference parents are 10 minutes late for a twenty minute conference. Mom stands outside the class talking on her cell phone for an additional 5 minutes. I start conference without her. Dad's cell phone goes off and he doesn't know what to do. He pulls it out (the phone, that is) and let it go to voice mail. He shrugged sheepishly. I sent them on the way when their time was up.

(4.) Next conference was on time. Student is getting good grades but is a drama queen. I inform mom that the drama needs to stop as it is apparently for show and attention only. The only victims are the classmates who have to watch her "shows". Child turns on the waterworks. Mom says, "She did this before only it was a lot worse." Oh, I'm glad it's better. And the Academy Award for the best performance by a sixth grader goes to ...

(5.) Next conference super supportive parents. Mom, according to fifth grade teacher used to cover son's rear-end for everything. Today mom turned to her son and said, "It's sink or swim time." Congrats, Mom, you have quit enabling your child.

(6.) Adorable girl who came from Mexico less than 3 years ago and is a top student. She wants to be a teacher. Hooray!

Tips to parents:

- Be on time, damn it!

- Turn off the damn cell phone!

- Sign stuff and turn it in in a timely manner.

- Don't act shocked when you see the grades. All your child's work is sent home weekly.

- Showing up for a conference shows your child you care and love them.

I teach in the public schools. We have no choice as to who is in our class.

News to People in Illinois

I was telling my students about a very heated argument I had with my best friend, Joanne, when we were both in the 3rd grade. At the time we lived in Charleston, Illinois. Joanne was absolutely certain that Chicago was a state.

"Chicago isn't a state?" one student interrupted. Groans from classmates.

Wild hand waving from boy in the back of the class, "But I heard on the news they are gonna make it a state."

I can't make this stuff up, as Dave Berry used to say.

So for all you folks in Illinois I thought you might want to be aware of the confused geography here in Arizona. (I blame this on the 5th grade teachers because they teach the students the states - all 51 one of them. By the way, what's the capital of Chicago?)