Monthly Archives: February 2013

i hate girl scouts

i am a terrible horrible person for saying that i hate the girl scouts but right now i do.

you see it is cookie time and i ordered one box of each flavor.  
the hubs wanted me to order a box of “his kind” but i could remember what “his kind” were so i ordered one of each.

the girl scouts helped me justify this by saying they freeze well.

they are right… the cookies do freeze well… if they make it home and to the freezer…

my girl scout delivered cookies to me at 7:45 this morning.
all 8 boxes sat on my desk for about 15 minutes before my students started pestering me to share with them.  at $4.00 a box i am not sharing with 8th graders… i don’t care how awesome my students (think) they are.

i moved the boxes to the floor behind my desk.

they started calling my name.  it was subtle at first.  but by the time 3rd hour rolled around they were SCREAMING MY NAME AT THE TOP OF THEIR LITTLE COOKIE LUNGS!

Last night and this morning were exceptionally emotional times for me.  
Then, during 2nd hour, my AP showed up for an unannounced observation.
Yesterday there were a lot of kids absent so I spent today helping many of them play catch up.

I was stressed out by 10:30!!

I did what any other emotional eating, stressed out, and tired woman would do.  

I opened a box of cookies and promised myself I would only eat 1.

or 2.

well… maybe 3 is okay.  

the serving size on the box says 2 but worked out really hard last night so I can have a 4th cookie.

I probably should have amended my original though to say I would l eat 1 box.

I may have eaten a whole box of girl scout cookies today.  Would you judge me if I did?  If it is any consolation, I did make myself sick and i felt like crap the rest of the afternoon.  I am not sure I will be able to eat lemon flavored anything for a long time.  And I went to dance class tonight.  That makes it all okay, right?



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tonight i read that an old friend is hurting.

she gave birth 2 weeks ago to a baby girl when she was only 28 weeks along.   i don’t know the details surrounding it but i do know that we have been praying hard for sweet baby clare.

tonight, clare went to heaven and i am shedding tears for her amazing mom, andrea.  

it has been almost 9 years since sarah left us and our wounds have healed.  but tonight that pain is raw. I remember exactly how i felt when we were told we wouldn’t be bringing our baby home. when all we had hoped for and prepared for was ripped out of our hands.

we felt so alone.  we felt so hurt.  we felt so sad.  we felt so empty.
Tonight i feel those things for Andrea.
Tonight I shed tears for all those babies taken too soon.
Tonight I pray that heaven holds them close and that they are having a party with the angels.
Tonight I mourn the loss our baby clare and hope that sarah welcomes her home.

Please pray for my friend tonight.  

you can read sarah’s story here.

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do you smell that?

I worked out again tonight!  Boy did i sweat!  And what comes with sweat?  Stink.

Yep.  I was stinky tonight.  And the boys wanted to tell me all about it.

Then Bubba took his shoes off and we all about fell over.  My child has the stinkiest feet in the world. It was awful. I can’t even describe the funk that was coming from his feet and shoes.  It was as if an animal had rolled in poop, died, soaked in stagnant water and then sat in a hot humid car during the month of July.  How does this happen? It was gross. Thank goodness for my shoe sweetner.  The shoes are refreshing as I type.

I try to rid my life of unpleasant smells more often than I care to admit.
I teach middle school.  
Middle schoolers stink.  
      The boys sweat and try to cover it with Axe body spray.
      The girls wear way too much perfume with an extra layer of conflicting scented lotions.

Then there are the ones that have no sense of smell.  
You know… the ones that don’t realize that they stink.

Or the ones that pass really stinky gas.  


During class.

The other day I was teaching and working with students in my math class and someone started letting them rip.  The Silent But Very Deadly (SBVD) ones.  They were very potent.  

Side note: I have a very strong sense of smell and can identify scents from a long distance.  This “gift” can be a blessing but is also a curse. 

Back to the SBVD farts:  They were so strong that I had to walk away.  I was not able to identify the culprit but I was able to narrow it down to a section of the room.  I tried to avoid it but the smell was slowly spreading across the room.  If it was colored it would have been clouding the room like dry ice does in a fog machine.  It got so bad that I had to step into the hall. When I came back in, I decided to let my kids go to lunch a couple of minutes early.

Too bad I had lost my appetite.

How do you handle stinky situations?

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nobody is watching

When nobody is looking I always check for security cameras.  They are everywhere and somebody always seems to know what is going on. I do this because, without a doubt, I am always caught doing something super embarrassing.  You know like picking a wedgie, scratching my armpits, or adjusting my bra or something.

My students do things like pick their noses when they think no one is watching- they don’t seem to realize that I am in front of them and look straight at them and see this. Thank goodness for hand sanitizer.  

Bubba and Dude dance and play nicely together when they think no one is watching.

Tonight I went to the grocery store and while I was in my car (sending a text before I started driving) I observed someone load their groceries into their car and then look around to see if anyone was watching and then leave the cart in the middle of the parking lot.

This got me to thinking about how we act when (we think) no one is watching.  You know all  the cliches about character.  I want to be (and am working really hard) to be the same person in all aspects of my life- home, church, school, Walmart, etc.  

I have always been an observer.  I watch people.
And I confess…
I judge people.  
I judge how people treat others.  And because of what I observe I have started to become concerned about how I come across to others .

I hurt when I see my friends treat people poorly.

I see my teacher friends talk down to students- degrade them.  And often the teachers don’t even realize it.  They see themselves as “putting that kid in his place” or something like that. Do i do that to my students?  Ouch. I hope that I make every child feel important, special and worthy of all the success in the world.

I see my friends treat the checker at Walmart or the clerk at McDonalds as a part of a lower  class. Do I do that to people that are working hard? It always makes me mad when I get treated poorly at my 2nd job because I am a lowly clerk at the shoe store. i hope that i am treating anyone serving me with dignity, respect and especially gratitude

I have seen my friends dump people because they don’t have anything to gain from that relationship. They abandon relationships because it doesn’t elevate their status. They abuse people to lift themselves up.  Do I do that?  Do I use people to get what I want? I hope I value my relationships enough to work at them even if I have nothing to gain.

I don’t have a question tonight but I do want you to think about who you are when people might be observing.  How do you treat people when someone may or may not be watching?


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As you know I have been taking Power House Dance to help me on my journey to wear skinny chick clothes.

At first I thought I was doing okay.  Then I looked in the mirror.  I was horrified.  I looked like a hot, sweaty, blotchy, mess.  I decided that I would not look at myself anymore.  I started watching other woman in the mirrors and just assumed I looked as good as them.

You know… Smokin hot.   Body moving in the right direction at the right time.

Well…As I have started to figure out the moves I am getting more confident in my groove and I have been sneaking some views of myself.

Oh.  Lord.  It is a wonder how the other women in the class are able to concentrate with me in the same room.  I look like a fool. After my first class I said I was like a jumping elephant at the circus. I think that is a generous description of my grace and style.  I remind myself of how my children used to dance when they were first learning to walk. To say I have no rhythm is an understatement.

My arms fling when everyone else swings.  My legs are going left when everyone else goes right. I am a step behind.  I can’t spin/turn/rotate because I get dizzy so I am facing the front while they face the back.  I am a lost soul on the dance floor.  My body is moving.  In my mind it is moving the way everyone else is moving but in reality it is just moving… no rhythm.  No groove. No sense of reason for my actions.  I end up a sweaty sore mess but I definitely don’t look good in the process.

And so now I must apologize to some people from my past:

I am sorry to my band teacher from high school.  Why did you let me play bass drum?  I have no rhythm… there was no way we would be able to stay on a beat that I was setting.

I am sorry to the rest of the drum line… Now I know why you guys were always mad at me.  I couldn’t march in time because I have no groove.

I am sorry to the girls that I cheered with freshman year… of course we sounded ridiculous since I probably could not chant at the same rate as everyone else.

I am sorry to anyone that tried to dance with me at high school dances or in the clubs during college.  Maybe that is why none of those relationships lasted.  It is a good thing the hubs has no rhythm either… we are a perfect match.

I am sorry to my clarinet teacher from when I was in elementary school.  I still can’t tap my foot correctly when I am playing music.

I am sorry to my RMS friends for the year you let me in their Evolution of Dance Troupe.  It doesn’t matter that I didn’t really practice… I probably still would have looked as bad as I did but hey it was fun.

I should probably apologize to the people that worship around me at church.  I sing and praise but I am sure it is just as bad with rhythm there.  I am sorry for singing loudly and off key and off beat.

I am sorry to all the people in my dance class right now.  I might get it one day but for now… please don’t look at me unless you need a good laugh.  And don’t worry, I will laugh with you…if my abs don’t hurt too much.

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my dark blue jeans

so as you know, i have been working out and trying to get skinny.

well, after splitting my pants a few weeks ago (I forgot to tell you all that because I was so embarrassed but that is what has sparked my working out motivation) I finally got a new pair of jeans and guess what!!!


So i wore them to school on Friday (since we get to wear jeans every Friday with our collared shirts) and I was feeling pretty hot in my smaller sized super dark jeans.  

The thing about super dark jeans is that they turn everything they come in contact with blue.  My hands were blue all day long.  Most of my students didn’t notice but a few did… so when they asked me about them i convinced them that i have a slow progressing disease and one of the symptoms is that my skin turns blue.  it is amazing how gullible 8th graders are.

back to the smaller size.  I think I may have jumped the gun on it.  

Please laugh with me now…

I have my conference/plan time at the end of the day and have trained my bladder to “hold it” all day (my teacher friends understand this) so I had not been to the bathroom all day.  When I finally went things took a turn for the worse.

I did my business.
I pulled up my pants,
I buttoned my pants.
I tried to zip but the zipper wouldn’t budge.
I flushed… I was stalling for time.
I tried to zip again…  again… no movement.
I start panicking.  I start sweating.  Now my fingers are slippery and I can’t grip the zipper.
I wash my hands. I dry them really well.
I try the zipper another time.
I suck in. I lean back.  I bend forward.  I can’t get the stinking thing to move.

I should have bought the bigger sized jeans.  I have only been working out 2 weeks.  That is not long enough to go down a size.  What was i thinking?  My hands are blue and now my gut is sticking out the zipper part of my jeans.  Oh My Gawd!!  I am so embarrassed.  this is worse than splitting my pants.  

My heart is racing.  i am locked in the bathroom.  what am I going to do?

I quickly pull the front of my shirt down over my zipper and race walk as fast and as casually as I can back to my classroom. I am praying that no one stops me along the way.

I get into my room. shut the door and l lay on the floor.  Gravity works in my favor and pulls my gut towards the floor. 
Slowly, I get the zipper up.  
Crisis is over.

Wow!  That was not a good thing.  I should probably go to a few more dance classes before I try to wear those jeans again.



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