Tag Archives: my inner diva

lesson learned tonight

It is always a good day when you learn something, right?

Here’s what I learned tonight:

  • I can’t sit in my car and listen to the St. Louis Cardinals baseball game for two hours while your son has football practice.  The battery will die.
  • If you don’t ever pop the hood on the car, you won’t know where the thing is.  Yep it took a good 3 minutes of looking to find the hood popper thing.  Does that thing have a name?
  • Connecting the black part of the jumper cable to the red part of the battery with produce a huge and scary spark.  Lots of 3rd grade boys squealed on that one.
  • Not getting the cables fully connected to the battery will do absolutely nothing to get your battery charged.  No matter how long you let it stay connected and or how much you rev the engine it won’t charge.
  • I have the greatest husband in the world.  When I called him, he dropped everything he was doing and came and rescued me.  He did some magic and got my car started in about 3.1 seconds.  He is my hero!

I am sure my son’s coach thinks I am a dingbat.  I am sure the other parents think I am a total flake.  I am sure my own children think I am a damsel in distress and that the hubs is the handsome prince that I need.  Only one of those three things is true.

What did you learn today?


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watch your aim

i am a mom to boys.  

any mom to boys will understand my plight.

my bathroom stinks.  like pee.  all of the time.

When i was scrubbing the bathroom floor i was gagging.  the amount of stagnant pee that had accumulated around the toilet was shocking.  how does this happen in one week?

i decided to have a talk with each of the boys individually.

The hubs blew me off and said that if i would clean more often it would be so bad.  He then tried to blame me. (uh… i have a much better chance of reaching the target than anyone in the house… you can’t blame me.)

Bubba acted like he knew what i was talking about but definitely wasn’t going to take responsibility.  In fact, he was a bit grossed out by the situation as well.

When I talked to Dude about the pee on the floor he owned it.  He said to me “That is probably me because when i go to the bathroom, my wiener starts to itch and i have to scratch it. when i scratch it, sometimes it points in other directions.  Sorry mom.”

Gotta love them but I am so ready to have my own bathroom where i can put up a sign that says “No Boys Allowed!”

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bathroom talkers

What is your take on public bathroom talkers?

Personally, it freaks me out. I like to pretend I am alone in a puublic bathroom.  Although, I don’t really want to listen to you pee, I really don’t want to have a conversation about the weather over the sound of both of us peeing.  

The great thing about being a teacher is that when I walk into the bathroom, suddenly none of the girls really have to go very badly anymore and the bathroom clears out pretty quickly.

I seem to have gotten on the same “bathroom schedule” with someone I work with.  She is a bathroom talker. It kind of freaks me out. She is so sweet and kind and is genuinely interested in how I am doing.  I get really uncomfortable talking in the bathroom but don’t know how to express that politely.  

I am working with a 4 minute bell schedule and am pretty focused when I am race walking to the bathroom between classes.  I don’t have time to weave through middle school hall traffic to get to the private teacher bathroom. I might have to learn to walk faster or hold it a little longer.

How about you?  Are you a bathroom talker?  If so, can you wait until I am done?

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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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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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make em sweat

If you have been reading my blog (or have known me) for any amount of time you know that I am a bit tubby and I struggle with losing and regaining weight.  In general I have almost no motivation and can come up with a million and one excuses to avoid exercise and healthy eating.

But right now I am on a kick. I have some motivation to exercise and I am going with it.  I have decided that if I take a class then there is a little more accountability.

Tonight I joined the “Power House Dance” class. I should have known by the name that I was going to hurt and look like a red-splotchy beached whale in the middle of winter.  Yep… that is how I looked.

Here is a recap of the class.

We started promptly at 5:31 with a bit of yoga warm-up stuff (I don’t know the technical terms so I am making this up as I go- it may not have been yoga but we were stretching and reaching and twisting in ways that I haven’t ever tried).
By 5:34 I was out of breath.  
By 5:37 I was hoping for a water break.
At about that time we moved on to some interval stuff.  I have watched the Insanity infomercials and what the teacher was doing looked a lot like that- What I was doing was nowhere near that.  I was more like an elephant trying to jump at the circus.
Around 5:40 we had to run 2 laps.  I almost died but then we got a water break.  I took this time to observe some of the people in my class.  I was sweating and they were not.  I was huffing like one of my lungs had been removed and I was having an asthma attack in the other.  Their breathing was heavy but nothing to be concerned about. Once they caught their breaths (I am still looking for mine) we started dancing. The first song was pretty good.  I started to get a little cocky… you know because I am a fabulous dancer.  The 2nd song, though, kicked my butt.  And so did the 3rd and the 4th and all the rest of the songs.
By 5:59 I was dying.  My arms weren’t lifting.  My legs weren’t jumping.  My pelvic region was no longer popping (not sure it ever did… it just sort of jiggled in a circular motion). 
At 6:01 we got another water break.  
At 6:02 I realized that if I didn’t pace myself, the only water I would have to drink was the sweat dripping from my shirt.
At 6:04 I started wondering if this was a 45 minute class or an hour (you know what I was hoping for)
6:07 marked the time a cool down should have started… if it was a 45 minute class.
Around 6:10 some high school girls show up and start making fun of me (I am sure they were just goofing but they were laughing pretty hard.  They were also recording “each other” with a cell phone… I made them promise me that I would not show up on YouTube.  I also told them that if someone offered them money for their video I would pay more.
6:14 got me thinking hoping that maybe she would just end the class at 6:15 without a cool down.
6:16 reality hits that I have another 14 minutes of this torture.  I am on the edge of death at this point questioning my sanity for thinking I could survive any sort of dance class.
Around 6:18 I sneak a peak in the mirror.
6:19 had me thinking “Why do they have mirrors??  This is a disgusting sight!!”
We finally start cooling down at 6:24.  But I could hardly move to reach out and stretch my muscles.  By the time class ended I felt like and big tub of jello. 

Oh my lord!! I am going to hurt tomorrow.  I can already feel the soreness setting in to my arms, shoulders, back, butt, legs.  You name it… I feel it.  

But hey… I think I will go back on Thursday.  My inner super model is fighting strong against my outer fat girl right now.  (I might change my mind when I can’t write on the board tomorrow).

What are your recent workout stories??


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