I'm getting married

Yesterday I found out that my favorite student (the one whose mother sent that nasty email on Friday) had said that he couldn't talk to my partner teacher about the problems he was having with me because the partner teacher and I are getting MARRIED. For some reason, that final tidbit was enough to snap me out of the pity party I had been having for myself all damn weekend and I found some sympathy for the kid. He's crazy, and in the classic words of Ray Barone's dad, "You can't be mad at a crazy person." Regardless of what level of reality this poor child is living in, he believes I dislike him. So the partner teacher is going to handle him, and I am going to work to make my few interactions with him very positive. Then I am going to ignore his mother and let the principal handle her.
I do feel like I have made a huge mistake doing special ed. It did not occur to me when I signed on for it that working with resource kids would mean dealing with crazy people. It totally makes sense... duh! And since I am not even making enough money to make ends meet, and I am going to have to find a weekend job, probably for minimum wage, I am thinking, what am I doing? I can look for a different line of work, where I make enough money, and don't have crazy people after me.

Dear Crazy Bitch,

Thank you for the drama you caused right before the weekend. Really, it just started things off on just the right note for me. I sort of wonder, though, how there can be so much drama when your kid hasn't even been to school this week?
Oh, that's right. I forgot. You had all week to bond with him and hear all the details about his regular school day, and how horribly he is treated in my class.
It's not like you shouldn't believe the little angel... after all, he's always been truthful before, right? Like the time he told you that I wouldn't "except" (your word) his homework because it was only half done, when in reality he tried to turn in the work we had done in class? He hadn't done a single problem of the homework side of the worksheet. You made some excuse for him, and for yourself, about being confused. I let it go. Then there was the time he told you the reason he was tardy for my class was because he was talking with another teacher. You reminded me ever so kindly that he has accomodations for that, being that he is practically a paraplegic, and he is allowed to spend all the time he needs getting clarification of directions. There was just that one little detail about him having LUNCH right before my class... oh, and the part where I asked that teacher whether she had been talking to your son after lunch, and she had no idea what I was talking about. That time, you apologized to me and grounded your son for lying to you. I guess it doesn't matter whether or not he lies to everyone else.
Regardless, I guess you have chosen to believe whatever he has been telling you all week, and I guess in your mind that justifies you sending an email to another member of the staff calling me a witch and telling him how sorry you are that he has to work with such a "wicked women" (again, your idiot spelling) all day.
That was really great. Then, that part where you called the principal and told her that I was giving your son an ulcer? Thanks for that. I so enjoy being held responsible for shit that isn't mine.
It's really very simple. I teach math. That's my job. I'm not your son's wet nurse. I'm not his counselor, or his self-esteem monitor, or his guidance counselor. I am not your whipping post. I have your son for less than one hour a weekday, during which time my job is to TEACH HIM MATH. That is all. I teach a lesson, we do some practice, I assign homework. He either participates in the lesson, or he doesn't. Not something I can control. He either hands in the homework, or he doesn't. Not something I can control.
I am doing my part. How about if you start doing yours? Better yet, maybe YOUR SON could try doing something for HIMSELF?
He'll never get the chance with you in his life. I actually think he might be better off if you were beating him, instead of wiping his ass. At least that way he would have to learn how to stick up for himself. As it is, you are teaching him to be just another stupid sucker who will never be able to take responsibility for his own actions. It's ok with me, really. One day you'll be telling the judge why she is a witch because she doesn't understand how HARD his life is with ADD, and how wicked she is for sending him to jail. You just can't treat a special ed kid like that, right?
By the way... he's only a special ed kid for a few more years. There is no such thing as a special ed adult.
Sincerely,
Wicked Witch of the School

I need to learn when to HANG UP.

I answered a guy's personal ad, sent him an email and when he responded we exchanged pictures. We emailed back and forth for a few days and then I gave him my number. He is my age, good looking, one kid, never been married. He has a job and a car, a degree, etc... he met all of the basic criteria. So we talked.
Fist, he could not stop talking abou the size of my breasts. He probably brought it up five times in ten minutes and actually asked me what my cup size was.
Then, (why in the hell was I still on the phone?? I really don't know!) he kept asking me all these weird questions about my personality. Would I say I tend to take charge, or let other people make the decisions? Would I say my personality is more dominant, or submissive?
(HellOOOOO Melissa, pick up the clue phone!)
While I was trying to figure out a way of get off the phone without being rude (I really need to get over that) he says to me, hesitantly, "It's just that I am looking for someone... for someone.... for.... someone to dominate me."
(verrrrrry pregnant pause)
Me: (stifling a laugh) Oh!... I see.
Him: What? You see what? What does that mean?
Me: Yeah, I gotta go...
Him: Can I call you tomorrow?
Me: No.
Him: Is that an order?
Me: ??????????????
Me: click

The Windy City

I've been talking to a guy from Chicago who is planning on moving to my city next summer. We emailed back and forth for a few weeks, and then he asked if he could call me. He seems to have his act together, and he's really sweet. Like most of the men I have met, he spends way too much time talking about his ex. (What's the deal with that?) Other than that, he's my kind of guy. He thinks about things just for the sake of thinking. He forms opinions based on evidence instead of emotion. He can talk about politics without getting hot under the collar. He kinda has a funny name though.

The point is, I did it

Yesterday I wore pantyhose to work. I overlooked the small detail of putting underpants into my gym bag, so I worked out commando-style. All was well until the leg press machine. And that's all I have to say about that.

Maybe I'll just waitress...

Things I am expected to do every day:

Write learning objectives on the board (4 different ones because I teach 4 levels)
Write essential questions on the board (4 different sets)
Update my website detailing homework for the day (4 different assignments)
Bus duty after school

Things I am expected to do every week:

Enter two grades per class
Do lesson plans for the following week
Playground duty Tuesday mornings
Math meeting every Wednesday during my plan

Other things I was told last week:

- No sitting down during teaching. Apparently I am not qualified to decide that my students are ready to practice on their own.
- No trying to get other work done while sitting at a meeting that has nothing to do with anything concerning me. I have to listen even if it is totally irrelevant.

Last week I had meetings after school 4 out of 5 days. Next week I have meetings after school 5 out of 5 days. My planning period was taken away two out of five days. Already for next week my planning period has been taken away two out of five days. I have about 100 students all together, so I am supposed to grade at least 200 papers a week and enter the grades in the computer. When is this supposed to happen? I can't do it during the day while the students are working, and I can't do it after school during the stupid meetings. Is there some magic grading fairy that I need to get in touch with? Because I have a quite tall stack of papers sitting next to my coffee right now, and I have to say I resent it.
I should just quit and get a job waitressing at CoCo's. At least they get tips when they're nice.

My least favorite holiday

I have never liked halloween, but the older my kids get, the more of a pain in the arse this "holiday" turns out to be. I have argued until I am blue in the face with my 14 year old, who insists she is not too old to be trick-or-treating. Someone else told me they draw the line at facial hair, so maybe she isn't too old yet, but my gut says when they are taller than me, it's time to quit. Then the older daughter asks if she can have a friend sleep over. It's a school night, I say. It's halloween, she says. Fine, I say. I'm too tired to keep this up any longer. I might be spared the younger one going anywhere as she has been sick for the last few weeks with a strange fever that comes and goes. If she has a fever, then oh well! Can't go anywhere.
My students are not allowed to dress up for halloween, thank goodness. It's too much of a distraction. However, they are 12 year olds, and they LOVE halloween. They will push the limits, I am sure. The best part is that my principal, in her infinite wisdom, chose TODAY as picture day. This should be interesting.

Work is not so good...

I knew teaching special ed would be challenging. Just like the rest of the job though, it isn't the actual teaching or the students. It's the parents, and the meetings. Yesterday the two combined and the result was my spending two hours after school twiddling my thumbs while the special ed coordinator listened to some parents bitch about how we're not doing right by their son. Very little of it was about how their son is kind of a creep and has no sense of personal responsibility whatsoever about his education. His mom kept saying things like, "You guys just don't understand how hard life is for him" and "It's really hard parenting him" and "You guys just don't know how hard it is for him to learn."
WHATEVER. Parenting is hard, period. Learning is hard too. Both require effort.
At the end of the meeting, she gave me a copy of an article she printed off the internet titled "How to teach children with ADD." I could barely conceal my contempt. I wish I could hand her an article that goes something like "How not to turn your kid into a dependent asshole" or "How to take responsibility for your own shit instead of trying to put it on everyone around you." The sad part is that the kid is far more capable than his parents allow him to be. If he had to take responsibility for his actions, he would be working at or near grade level. As it is, he doesn't have to do his own homework, he doesn't have to take responsibility for his part in his education, and he gets to blame me every time he doesn't understand his math. Whether he so much as had a pencil in his hand while I was teaching, or followed along while I showed him how to do the problems, is irrelevant.
The end result is I left home before the sun came up yesterday, and didn't get home until after it was dark. I still had to get dinner on the table and finish up my lesson plans for today. (I got my planning period taken away yesterday because of an assembly that I was required to attend.) I don't get paid enough to live this kind of life. Today I have another meeting after school, the same kind as yesterday. I already know this kid's father, and the way he pores over each individual assignment in my gradebook and questions me about each one. I went to school for this??

Is it just me?

I chaperoned a school dance yesterday after school. This is a middle school, so the youngest kids there were about 10 years old, and the oldest around 13. I must be getting really old, because I was (and still am) horrified at what I saw and heard. The girls all learned how to dance watching MTV and VH1, so when they weren't shaking what they have of chests, they were swinging their little booties back and forth like they meant business. Some of them danced exactly like the girls in the hip-hop videos. It's bad enough to see grown women doing these things. It's very disconcerting to see a ten year old do it.
I don't know if my principal is completely clueless about music or if she just decided to ignore it. The DJ played "Promiscuous" (I can see you with nothing on, feeling on me before you bring that on) followed by SexyBack (I’m bringing sexy back, Them other fuckers don’t know how to act, Come let me make up for the things you lack, Cause your burning up I gotta get it fast) followed by London Bridge (I'm such a lady but I'm dancing like a ho (Oh, snap), 'cause you know I don't give a fuck so here we go! (Oh snap)) and many more. Is it just me, or is this completely inappropriate? The other teachers didn't seem to think anything of it. If it were a high school, it might be ok, but I wonder if the parents of these 10 year olds know what they are hearing?

I got help!!

The school finally hired a special ed teacher. He is going to team teach the three special ed math classes with me! HOORAY!! He just started yesterday, but already my life is so much easier. I have only been working 8 1/2 hour days! Right now he is observing and getting to know the kids. He seems to have a really good knack for seeing what needs to happen and then just doing it, which is just unbelievably nice. I have to be careful not to steamroll over him though. I have a way of doing that.
Other random thoughts:
Today I assigned my 7th graders the odd problems. I forgot they don't know what odd numbers are.
I was emailing a guy who responded to my ad for a dance partner. We decided to go ahead and meet, so I gave him my cell phone number. He proceeded to call me (for the first time) close to midnight on Saturday. WTF? There went that idea.
I haven't had any responses to my online dating profile in weeks.
My oldest daugher and the boy with facial hair have already broken up and got back together. LORD.

but it's my JOB to torture you!!

My older daughter has a new boy in her life. It's the BOY WITH FACIAL HAIR. He is a senior and his grandparents bought a car for him to use. She wants him to be able to drive her around. (Geez, Mom, that's what boyfriends DO!! What is your PROBLEMUHHHHHH!!!) I told her that when he convinced me that he was a good driver, then I would allow him to drive her. She wanted me to tell him how to do that, and I refused for a day or so, and then finally had mercy on them. I asked her how she knew what kind of driver I was, and she said because she has been in the car with me. There ya go, I said. She got this incredulous look on her face. (Really, it was quite funny.) She said, "You mean you want him to DRIVE YOU AROUND??" I asked her how else I would know whether or not he was good at it?
So the young man wanted to do this after volleyball practice last night. I told him where to drive, and I sat in the back seat while the two of them sat in the front. Then I proceeded to bombard him with questions the whole time he was driving. "Where are your parents? You live with your grandparents? Why? Where did you move here from? Do you have a job? Where are you planning on going to college? Who pays for the insurance? Who pays for the gas? Have you had any accidents? What about tickets?"
He copped to one speeding ticket, which was good because if he told me he didn't have any I would have assumed he was lying. He went exactly five miles per hour over the speed limit. He used his turn signal and drove very well in spite of my interrogation. All in all, I was impressed. He did answer his cell phone twice while driving, which I could not let go without comment. I threatened him with bodily harm should she ever be injured because of him being careless. I gave him a little speech about how he can't possibly understand what it's like as a parent to allow your child's life to be put in someone else's hands. In the end, I gave him permission to drive her around IF she calls me first to tell me where they are going and then calls me when they arrive.
Seriously though, it's all I can do not to run around waving my arms and screaming for all of this madness to just STOP. I had another talk with her tonight, because tonight he is driving her home from their weekly school social at the local coffee house, and told her that if she EVER feels like she is in an unsafe position (he's had something to drink, he got high, she decided he's not a safe driver, whatever) that she can call me and I will not say a word about anything. I will just come and get her, no questions asked. I won't demand she stop seeing him, I won't say a word about any of it. I gave her my word and I really hope I can live up to it, if that ever happens.

true.com = dirty old men

I filled out a profile at True.com because they had a free 7-day trial offer. What could it hurt? WELL. Let me tell you. First of all, when I filled out my profile, the next thing they wanted me to do was take a compatibility test. Not at all unusual for a dating website. That's how they make the claim that they will use scientifically based methods to find your "true love" or "soul mate" or whatever they like to call it. The next thing they wanted me to do was take a sexual compatibility test. Huh?? I didn't do it, because I am not looking to sleep with these people, I just want to MAYBE date them.
So, over the next few days I received six "winks." The Rules say not to respond to winks, because all it takes is a click and does not show enough interest on the part of the man. I agree. The trouble was when I looked at who was sending me the winks. One lived in a different city. Another lived in a different state. The rest were all over 55 years old. EWWW! One of them was 61!! WHAT THE HELL? I am 37 years old!! What the HELL would I want to do with a freaking dirty old man who is older than my father?? :::shudder:::
Thankfully, when I called to cancel the account, they did not hassle me at all. That is a redeeming feature in my opinion. All the guy did was offer me a free month, and I said listen, it's not about the money. I'm so grossed out right now. The men who show interest are my dad's age.
He just kind of chuckled and cancelled my account without another word.
*sigh*

School Shootings

What is happening in our schools? The recent increase in violence at schools by non-students and non-faculty is stunning and frightening. As a teacher, I read articles like this and I am actually fearful about going to work. As a parent and as a teacher, I wonder why this issue is not at the forefront of the next board meeting? What is being done to protect my children? What is being done to protect me?
I believe there is a connection between the violence in schools and the shift in public attitude about schools in general. I cannot tell you the number of times I have heard "Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach." This during a conversation about why my job is or is not important, and people have not quoted that to me once, but several times. Another good one is, "What kind of person would take a job that pays so low? It tells me you can't get anything better." A parent said that to me during a discussion about sports at our school.
I grin and bear it, and figure that people just don't understand my job or why I love it. I am starting to think that those kinds of comments are just the peaks of a mountain of ignorance and disrespect toward schools in general.
Maybe people in all service jobs have to put up with this, and maybe I am reacting out of sheer ignorance because I am new at the job. But how does it occur to an angry madmad to take out his grudge on school children?
How does it occur to angry teenagers that the best way to show the world who they are is to kill their classmates?
How does it occur to a student angry about a disciplinary action that killing the principal is the best option?
Since 1997, there have been 21 episodes of school violence. That averages out to just over two incidents per year. Statistically, the chance of something happening at my school or my kids' school is astronomically low. Here's the thing: As a teacher, I can point out the wacko kid who is most likely to show up with a gun and start shooting. I can refer you to the angry-at-the-world parent who is frightening to be around and probably carries a gun, but has every right to come on campus whenever he wants because his kid is in one of my classes. What can I do about these situations? Absolutely nothing. I could try referring the student to the school psychologist, who is there about three days a week because we share her with another school, and who is so busy with the anti-bullying program that is mandated by the district that she rarely actually sees students of concern. Even if she made time to see him, she has to tell his parents that she is doing it, and they have the right to refuse to let him see her. I can let my administration know about my concerns with this or that parent, but it's nothing they haven't heard and don't already know.
So what do I do? I practice lockdown procedures until I know them backwards and forwards. I lock my room after school hours. I pray. I wish I knew what to do to make this situation better.

Holy cow, I'm busy!!

How exciting! I have a date Monday night, my oldest daughter's volleyball game (she's the captain of the team) Wednesday night and then I'm taking the kids to a Halloween show at Old Tucson after that, then Thursday I check in to a fancy schmancy hotel for a leadership conference that lasts until Sunday morning. Sunday evening I have a possible tango lesson as it appears I have found a willing partner! (He's quite handsome to boot!)
So, I have only one night this week to sit at home on my arse. I better enjoy it. I bet I will enjoy the tango lesson and the pool at the fancy schmancy hotel even more. Isn't life grand!

I can do this!

I did not hear back from the musician. He must have taken a closer look at my profile and saw the part that says "body type: curvy." Now, that is a huge assumption on my part, but I do have some experiences on which to make that assumption. The vast majority of men who are dating online will stop reading a woman's profile when they get to the "body type" section unless it says trim, athletic, etc. I wonder if these men realize that they are reducing their chances of finding a date by about half. I doubt they care. I understand why there is such a problem with saying in your online profile that you are overweight, because so many people lie. I have met men who list their body type as "a few extra pounds" and in person they are unquestionably "large." So if these same men read my profile and it says "curvy," they probably read: FAT. And while I am overweight, it is never as much of an issue in person as it is online. I get hit on regularly in real life, so I know I am not unattractive. Either way, if that is all it takes for Mr. I'm Too Good For You Fat Chicks Musician to not write me back, his loss. I'll just keep telling myself that until I believe it.
To assuage my wounded ego, I decided to take up dancing. I am in the process of finding a partner. I am going to start with Salsa or Tango, I think. I found a wonderful event calendar online with all kinds of things to do, and if I am not busy with dates, then I will just make myself busy with other stuff. I just need to get out there!

Trying not to hope....

I eventually had one match from the speed dating, so there goes my freebie. Then the match didn't email me. *sigh*
The good news is I continue to receive a couple of contacts per week. Some of them are called "eye contacts" which I don't respond to, per The Rules. Except there was this one whose message in the eye contact was "I think you're hot!" and he is a musician who holds a day job, and loves sushi, and etc. So I broke the rules and sent him a message. All it said was, "Thanks. Do you have a photo?" because he doesn't have one on his profile, and The Rules say if he isn't willing to send it to me, then he's POOF!
He wrote back last night and gave me his home email address, and said he would love to send me his picture. So, I am chomping at the bit to write back, but I am counting down the MANDATORY 24 HOUR WAITING PERIOD. These rules can be very tiresome. Now, tell me honestly, which reeks more of desperation: writing back at 6:30 a.m., which is only 8 hours later than when the message was sent, but is your regularly scheduled email time; or, waiting until 10:00 at night, when I am normally fast asleep, and THEN sending an email, just so I can wait 24 hours to respond??
Well, I am going to continue to follow the rules, and if I'm not awake this evening then I will write back tomorrow morning. Supposedly, the longer I take to write back, the more I am a "mystery woman" and he will be waiting and wondering what I am doing in the meantime. What if he just thinks I'm not interested? The book assures me that won't happen.
Oh, the humanity!!!

Fine, I didn't like you either

Speed dating was fun. There were 9 guys in all, and 8 women because one didn't show up. The women were assigned a table, and we sat and talked for 6 minutes at a time. When time was up, the coordinator would ring a bell, and the guys would get up, fill out their match form, and then move to the next table. On the match form, you put the guy's name next to his badge number and then there was a little space to make notes about him. Then you circled "let's talk" or "no thanks" and that was it! Later, you go into your account online, and the coordinator has put the event link there so that you click on it. Then all of the guys show up on your screen, and you click "yes" or "no." They email your matches to you. You have three days to put in your scores, so then 5 days after the event you get a final email. If you don't have any matches, then you can go to the next speed dating event for free. Which it looks like I'll be doing, because nobody picked me!! WAAAAH!!!

Speed Dating is tonight. I don't know what to wear. I had thought I would buy a new shirt, but I've run out of money. Some of the clothes in the back of my closet, my "skinny" clothes, are starting to fit again. Maybe I can find something there. I'm kind of nervous about the whole thing.
Meanwhile, this last week of work is positively ENDLESS. I can't believe it's only TUESDAY. My students have a hard time believing that they have to actually work this last week. They think since next week is vacation, they should get to take it easy this week as well. I keep telling them, that's the kind of thinking that makes Americans FAT AND LAZY!! But they just look at me like I am a nut case, which I probably am. So then I say, get to work.

Dating

Date Zero went off exactly as planned. It won't work out with this guy, but that is practically incidental. The important thing is successful new behavior. Maybe doing the "rules" works a little too well... he has emailed me 3 times since Friday and wanted to get together yesterday. A few red flags: He has extremely limited contact with his daughter, no overnight visits at all; he told me I was his "last chance" at dating; 3 emails since Friday?! Yeah, not so much.
Speed Dating is tomorrow night. I'm pretty nervous about it.
This is my last week of work before the three week break. Now there's something I can get excited about!

Conferences, Year 2

Date Zero has been rescheduled for Saturday night. I really feel like a snob when I say this, but I am not sure about dating someone whose work schedule changes. Is that terribly snooty?
Yesterday was the Very Long Day of teaching, the first day of parent-teacher conferences. It happens twice a year. I hate it. I absolutely loathe it. There are not strong enough words to convey my feelings of animosity toward it. I can't think of another career where one is expected to 1) work a 12 hour day, twice a year, for free, or 2) open oneself up for scrutiny by people who have no idea about the daily workings of the job.
Yes, parents need to know how their kids are doing. But parents don't see conferences as an opportunity to find out how their children are doing. Nor do they respect me enough to just sit and listen and take my word for it about how their children are doing. Parents look at conferences as an opportunity to tell me what they think about how I am doing my job. I am a captive audience, for 20 minutes (if they are polite enough to stay within their time zone, and IF they show up on time, which is a big IF) and I find that they are less interested in how their child is coming along in their education than how they can most effectively use that 20 minutes to badger me about my discipline/make up work/testing policies.
Anyway, after today it will be over until the 3rd semester. Really, it's enough to make me think about quitting teaching every time I go through it. Maybe after I have been teaching a few more years, it won't bother me so much.

What do you mean your work schedule changed??

Date Zero cancelled. My books don't tell me anything about how to handle that.
My complete and utter exhaustion turned out to be a cold in the making. It's getting worse every day. Saturday there was a little tickle in my throat. Sunday I was nasally. (is that a word?) Yesterday it was a little cold. Today it's a big cold. UGH!! And I have playground duty this morning, and it's raining, just to top it all off.
By the way, my regular ed kids did fantastically well on their testing. My special ed kids did about what I expected. They don't test well.

Date Zero

When dating online, if one is following the rules, one doesn't waste time online. One wants to use the online service as merely a mechanism to meet live, real people. This is one of the (many) mistakes I made in my past attempts. If the man has not asked me out in 4 emails or less, Poof! he's gone. They call the first meeting "date zero" since it is the first meeting and can't be considered an actual date. So I have scheduled my first date zero. I am compelled to remind myself that I am doing things differently, and doing it in writing just firms it up for me!
Ways this date zero is different from all my past date zeros, which I didn't even know were date zeros:
1. I know it's a date zero.
2. He contacted me first, and he asked me for the meeting.
3. He is planning the meeting and paying for everything.
4. Date Zero won't even happen unless he calls to confirm.
5. I will leave his name, number, and every other scrap of information I know about him with my safe person.
6. I will tell my safe person what time I will be home, and that I will call her immediately upon my arrival, and if I don't, she is to call me.
7. The meeting will last no longer than 2 hours.
8.I will end the meeting, not him.
9. I will not talk to him between now and then other than to confirm.
So that's the plan. It's very, very different from before! And so much easier! All I have to do is show up and look cute!
I also signed up for speed dating next week. HA!! I get a kick out of it every time I think about it.
Meanwhile, it is the dreaded week of parent-teacher conferences. Oh, how I hate them. HATE them. We are doing student led conferences, where supposedly the kids do the talking and explain to their parents how they earned their grades. You would think this would make my job easier, but it doesn't.

Rules for Dating Online

So I bought a couple of books yesterday to educate myself about dating. Since what I have done in the past did not work, I need new behavior to replace the old behavior, and the only way I know of to get new behavior is to read about other people's successful behavior and then emulate it. Does that make sense? One of the books is called Stop Getting Dumped. It's hilarious and chock full of good stuff, like the reasons why I should NEVER ask a man on a date.
"I know this may be a hard one to swallow, but here it is: The truth is, any man, no matter how shy, will muster the courage if he truly wants to ask you for a date. If he's shy, it might take him a while, but it will happen eventually. If it doesn't, he doesn't really want to date you."
That makes sense to me. Especially in light of my past experience. Being the woman and being the aggressor does not work. It has failed me every single time. So that's one of the new things I am going to do.
The other book I bought is called The Rules for Online Dating and it's by the same women who wrote the original "Rules" for dating. Some of the stuff I am doing doesn't make sense to me, like cutting down my online profile to the bare minimum (they say it will keep me mysterious) and keeping my response emails to two or three light, breezy sentences. But, like I said before, this is new behavior so it's bound to feel uncomfortable at first.
Since I don't feel doomed to repeat my past mistakes anymore, I am actually excited about my decision to start dating again. I guess time will tell...

Rules for Dating

I am ready to start dating again. I have made this decision after a lot of thought and some work on myself and my attitudes about men. These are some things I have to do in order to be successful at dating:
1. Put my best self forward. I know what my best features are, and I need to make them work for me.
2. Put the past where it belongs - in the past. Be willing to give men the benefit of the doubt and stop projecting my past mistakes into the present company.
3. Allow room for imperfection. I am not perfect, and it's unfair to expect anyone else to be either.
I signed up for a speed dating event for single parents in my age range. We'll see how it goes. I'm pretty excited about it!

Title Goes Here

Yesterday I opened up my cell phone and a post-it note fell out of it. It was from my youngest daughter. It said, "I'm so fat I want to kill myself. Please will you ask the doctor for diet pills?"
I don't even know where to begin to freak out. The suicide threat? The fact she thinks pills are the answer? How about that she eats junk all day and then complains about her weight? Now, part of this has to be chalked up to her personality. She is a drama queen. Everything is an emergency with her. Also, it is not unusual for a teenager to ignore their part in things. However, I have tried to teach this child about personal responsibility since the day she was born. In the end, I decided the best thing to do was to sit down and have a talk with her.
Meanwhile, also yesterday I left work early to take my other daughter for a physical so that she can play volleyball. I had made an appointment with her regular pediatrician, but she didn't want to wait for that appointment. She wanted me to call this list of clinics and get a sooner appointment. So I did, and yesterday we were right on time for the appointment. We waited. And waited. And waited.
We were there for 2 hours and 45 minutes before we finally got the stupid paper filled out. I dropped her off at volleyball practice, and went straight home instead of going to work out. I was hungry, tired, and annoyed, so I skipped my workout. Great.
Meanwhile the younger daughter had a dance at school she wanted to go to, and her friend's mom came and picked her up, and she was already gone by the time I got home. I fell asleep before she got here because I'm still completely exhausted (maybe I had better get my thyroid checked again?) and the bottom line is that I did not so much as exchange words with her yesterday. This after she left a suicide threat in my cell phone.
I ate dinner when I got home and then an hour or so later I went to pick up the older daughter from practice. She is supposed to call when she's ready, and practice ends at 7:30, and it was 7:45, and she still hadn't called. So I drove over there. She was sitting on the curb, talking to a BOY WITH FACIAL HAIR. He is a senior I think... he has a car, and he came to watch the volleyball practice. And she didn't call me to come get her because she was talking to him.
She didn't get mad at me for coming to get her but she acted like I had caught her doing something wrong. She certainly didn't volunteer any information, but she answered my questions about why he was there and kept asking me what was wrong, and was I mad. I couldn't answer her because I didn't and still don't know why I am so heartbroken. Is it that she doesn't choose to share her life with me? Is it that she would rather sit on the curb than come home? Is it that she is slipping away from me, and will be gone for good in another two years? That's probably it.
I can feel my heart splitting in two.

Complete and utter exhaustion

Maybe I'm coming down with something. Maybe it's because the end of the quarter looms upon us and I'm ready for the 3 week break. Maybe it's aftereffects of only working out once last week. Probably it's the crappy food I've been eating. I'm so tired I just want to cry.
I have been really stressing about the testing coming up. I feel confident that I've been doing an OK job of teaching my special ed students. I can see their academic growth, and there is an even distribution of grades in my gradebook. I'm fearful, though, because I keep thinking that SE students don't typically test well, and what will happen if the scores come back and nobody has shown any progress? What if we haven't really accomplished anything, and it's all just been optimistic thinking on my part? Yikes. I remember doing this to myself last year with the regular ed kids I was teaching, and all that worrying was for nothing. I'll just have to keep the faith and quit obsessing. I'm so ridiculous sometimes.

Dear Bo Derek,

You have somehow convinced Congress that they need to spend time on this ridiculous parody of celebrity activistm. Let's just review:
"It's handwritten letters that still affect our representatives. Congressman [John] Spratt [D-S.C.] said it's the — what did he call it — the butterfinger letters. He said, "It's the letters you can see a housewife maybe sat down and had butter on her fingers, and there are smudges on a handwritten letter." And he said that those letters will still affect his vote more than anything, more than any lobbyist. "
First of all, you are in need of a serious and bracing reality check if you think any of those white males in congress are actually taking you seriously. When they look at you, what they see is you in your cornrows, breasts bobbing, jogging on the beach in "10." Or, they might see your latest "work," you in full makeup and tight clothes having a catfight with Morgan Fairchild. I can almost hear their thoughts: "Oh, look at the pretty celebrity. She wants us to talk about horses. Well, it won't hurt to humor her."
Can you imagine what you might have chosen to do with all of the time and money you have managed to squander with this "cause"? There are children, actual human beings, who do not have enough food to eat in this country. They don't have decent shoes to wear to school. Speaking of school, there are thousands of schools in our country, full of actual human beings who could benefit from just a fraction of the taxpayer money you are wasting on talking about horses. They don't have enough paper or pencils to go around, and they are using textbooks that were published 20 years ago. How many textbooks could have been bought with the taxpayer money Congress will waste when they begin their session, and spend taxpayer time and money on the floor talking about HORSES??
What's next after horses? Are you going to take on the beef industry? Pick up the clue phone, Bo... humans are mostly carnivores. They like to eat meat. You saw what happened to Oprah when she took on the cows, and you don't have anywhere near the starpower she has.
Is it too much to ask that you pick a real cause? It literally made me sick yesterday to see you being interviewed by George Stephanopolous (by the way, George, I doubt I will ever watch your show again) and getting all misty-eyed about people eating horses. We've got a war going on. Human beings right here in your country are losing their sons and daughters by the thousands. The Gulf Coast is still devastated; people there still don't have homes or jobs to go back to because they can't get any help from the government. And you choose to spend your time and money, and my taxpayer time and money, talking about horses? Why don't you go get a manicure or something, and stay the hell out of politics.

A Truly Defining Moment

I took on the job of teaching the 8th grade special ed math class. Now I am teaching math to all of the special ed students in the school, along with two classes of regular 7th grade math.
Teaching the SE kids is different from teaching the regular ed kids. Every day I learn new ways of relating to them and understand a little bit more what they need in order to be successful. Little things like making the first few math problems on the worksheet easy enough for everyone to do, so that they have some confidence as a group, are crucial. They have low expectations of themselves and they are quite accustomed to adults around them having low expectations as well. Their first few weeks with me are hellish. I force them to rethink their beliefs about themselves and others. I force them to use manners, be kind to each other, and write their name on their paper. In the regular world, these things are no big deal. But in my world, some of these kids have been treated for their entire lives as though they are not capable of writing their name on their paper, or being kind, or polite. They think I'm mean. They make fun of me behind my back and complain about me to anyone who will listen.
There are times when I doubt myself. I wonder if I am being too hard on them. My feelings get hurt when I hear them making fun of me. I wonder if I made the right life choice to be a teacher, and especially if I am cut out for teaching SE. Then there are times when I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing. Last week in 8th grade we learned how to solve one-step equations with fractions in them. My greatest gift as a teacher seems to be that I can boil even the most complicated things down to a few simple steps. I taught them how do solve equations over the course of four days, and on the fifth I gave them problems to do on their own. One student in particular believes to his very core that he is worthless. He knows he is not allowed to talk about that in front of me, and I have made it very clear that I disagree with his view. On that fifth day of solving equations, I stood behind him while he solved an equation. (Ok, I might have talked him through a step or two.) He got to the end, and he had the right answer. I said, "Good job." He paused for a moment, and then gave me a shocked look.
"You mean that's IT??"
"That's it. You did great."
I began to walk away, and I heard him talking to himself in amazement. He said, "I am smart. I am smart. I got my dad's brain!" He proceeded to work hard, alone, for the rest of the period, solving equations and feeling VERY good about himself. That in and of itself is a small miracle.
There is no amount of money, no award or official recognition, no praise from any outside source that could measure up to those moments. It was a small victory for one child, but it made all the difference in the world to me. At least for today, I have no doubts at all!

Fat Pants

It took three months, but I have finally got a pair of pants that I will have to put away because they are too big. I wore them today and I knew when I put them on that I should change, but I didn't want to take the time. So I was hitching them up all day, how professional! I didn't care. It feels good to not fit into my fat pants. My weigh and measure day at Curves is the 30th, but I am ambivalent about seeing what the scale has to say. I would rather just go with what the fat pants say.

Dreams

I fought the sugar and the sugar won. Well, the sugar is winning right now. The good news is that even though I haven't been recording my food intake, and I haven't been making very healthy food choices, I have not let go of my exercise program. I still go faithfully to the gym 3 times a week and it feels really good. It isn't boring, and it goes by fast. There are other women there to talk to and every time I do it, I get to be really proud of myself for taking good care of me.
I have been having school dreams every night. Every. Single. Night. I think it might be a good idea to document the dreams. Not sure why I think that. I just do. In real life today, I am meeting a friend from college for lunch. Then I am driving the kids halfway to Phoenix to meet their father, who will take them for the weekend. Then, I will head to Globe, where I will meet my best girlfriend at a bed and breakfast for a sleepover. We planned this months ago. Meanwhile, I am watching my nephew while one of my sisters is in New York. You'll see how all these things come into play in my dream of last night.
Here is the dream, as best as I can remember it - they fade so quickly. I am in school as the teacher. (Sometimes I am the teacher, and other times I am the student.) It is the first week of school, the fourth day, so it is Thursday. I have been doing OK with the kids, getting them used to my routines and such - this is an 8th grade special ed class, about 17 kids. Today, the kids decide to challenge me. Instead of handling it like a professional, of course I am a complete ninny. Screaming and yelling, threatening with empty threats, etc. and the kids are loving it. It is near the end of the school day, and I just keep thinking, another hour. I can do this. Naturally the principal and other teachers are popping in and out, not helping, but taking note of the fact that I obviously can not handle my kids. Then suddenly I remember I am supposed to be taking a trip to New York with my best girlfriend! We are leaving tonight! I am supposed to meet her at the airport in a few hours! And I haven't got a sub for tomorrow, much less lesson plans! (Who gets a sub for the first week of school??!!) So I go to the phone and try to call HR so I can get a sub, and I have to chase 3 of my female students off the phone who were using it without my permission by the way, and then the phone doesn't work! And on the other line, the tech guy is all of a sudden there and telling me he is on his way to my classroom to remove the fiber from the phone line because it needs to be fixed! So I will be without phone and computer. Then I realize I have a computer, and I haven't even tried to use it. Somehow or another I find out that there are no subs available for tomorrow. Meanwhile I am supposed to be teaching this whole time. It is the middle of a social studies lesson, of all things. I'm a math teacher for gosh sake. So in between trying to get the kids to get textbooks and open them up, and get the kids that are hiding behind the kids in the back row, crouched next to the wall smoking cigarettes, I realize that I need to call my best girlfriend and tell her I can't make it. This is bad because I already know that she has paid for the plane tickets. I really don't want her to be mad at me. I keep trying to get her number to come up on my cell phone so I can call her, but I can't call her on my cell phone because the battery is dying. I keep trying to get the number to come up long enough for me to dial it on the classroom phone, which is only working part of the time, and the number keeps disappearing, and the principal keeps coming in, and my eyes are glued shut, and there is a dance after school that I promised to chaperone and forgot about, and I can't get ahold of my girlfriend to tell her I won't be meeting her at the airport.
Then, thank the Goddess, I woke up. This is happening every single night, I am not kidding. Maybe if I write them down they will stop. There is just no need for this kind of anxiety! I'm a good teacher! What the hell??!! Could the sugar and the dreams be connected?!

Who's counting

I overdid my workout yesterday. I only think that because I hurt whenever I move. One of the machines at Curves is definitely getting the better of me. I can do all of them, and most of them are nothing new. But this one, this horrible contraption designed to work the lower trunk, is just beastly. So of course I work harder on that one than any other, instead of taking it easy, and now I am paying for it.
The exercise is messing up my food. On the days I work out, I get hungry a couple of hours before lunchtime. So I eat a snack, and then I'm not hungry at lunchtime, and the whole day gets screwed up. I'm not sure what to do about that. Timing is important on this food plan I am doing.
Mentally, I am doing better than I have in a very long time. I feel stable and clear headed most of the time. I do not feel depressed, which is wonderful. Today I am going to my new classroom and working for a few hours. My goal is to have the lesson plans done for the entire year before school starts. They would be preliminary lesson plans, that I would adjust as needed, but it will be a good base to start with. That should make my workday shorter and allow time for other things, like working out and planning my food.

Day 4

Today is supposed to be the hardest as far as sugar withdrawal. Yesterday afternoon I was craving beer, wine, anything with sugar. I kept reminding myself that if I had any, I would be priming my brain to want more, and the cravings would be worse, and it would be worse for at least a day. Meanwhile the depression will not lift. I am going to work out today at Curves and maybe that will help.

Day 3 - Truth

I ate everything in sight yesterday that did not contain flour or sugar. I wanted ice cream so bad... I just kept putting myself off. I thought, in another hour, if I still want it, I'll have it. After doing that about three times, the craving finally passed. I don't know if the 16 oz ribeye steak had anything to do with it or not. heh.

Something I am changing about myself right now is the ability to keep meticulous records. I now have a food journal, here on my computer, where I log what and when I ate, and how I was feeling emotionally and physically when I ate it. The point of the journal is not to "get the goods" on myself so that I can start calling me names. I have to work hard to remember that! The point of the journal is recording data, like in a science experiment. I can't look for patterns if I don't have the data. I have tried many times to keep a food journal, but this time may be different... the past few days,when I have felt bad about what I ate, I reminded myself of the purpose of the journal. Then I wrote what I ate and that I felt bad about it. Rather than being something shameful, which I guess is what I was expecting, it has turned out to be liberating. Being honest about my food feels good. Yesterday, it helped me be honest about other things.

We abhor in others what we can't stand about ourselves.

Yesterday I was writing a "Dear John" email to a man I had been seeing. This man is an independent contractor; he works for himself, and he does I.T. When a server crashes, he has to go fix it, no matter the time or day. Saturday, after not hearing from this man for days, I got a call from him saying he was on his way to fix a server and if it went well he would call me when he was done. I had quite the moment of clarity. Seeing me was a matter of convenience. He has a son, so this way he had an excuse to drop his son at the home of a family member. Then, he thought, if he could get the work done quickly, he could come to my house and nobody would be the wiser. Here's the thing - I am wiser. I realized the meaning of what was happening - seeing me was not a good enough reason to get a sitter, but work was; nor am I worthy of spending time around the child. Not only that, he has to make excuses in order to find time for me.

I could have chosen to ignore what I was seeing and feeling, be complacent, and allow him to treat me like "the other woman." I did allow him to come over, and I waited for an explanation. (I can't change everything at once.) When none was forthcoming, I gently excused him from my presence. Then I waited for an explanation (I know, I know) for a few days. Still nothing... that's when I found myself writing the Dear Julio letter.

We teach others how to treat us. I have been working on who and what I am, through the process of finding out who and what I am NOT. I am not a convenience. I am not a booty call. I AM a Goddess. And every time I am honest, truly honest, with myself and those around me, I honor myself and others. Every time I make a step in the direction of honesty, it is a victory for my soul. When my soul wins, so do my children's souls, and my sister's souls, and my mother's soul. Because I cannot have a true relationship with anyone unless I am true to myself.

I am officially letting go of my old idea that "self knowledge" means taking responsibility for things that aren't mine and then beating myself up with them. My new idea is that "self knowledge" means telling myself the truth, and then loving the truth. Loving me for telling the truth. Looking at it straight in the eye and then rejoicing because I can have it.

Day 2

According to Potatoes Not Prozac, I need 88 grams of protein a day right now. That will go down as I lose weight. Yesterday I just divided by 3 and tried to eat the same amount of protein at brakfast, lunch, and dinner. I have never eaten so much protein at breakfast, and a few hours later I had a whopper of a headache! But I didn't get hungry. Today I think I will go a little less at breakfast and a little more at dinner, and see how that works.
Other things I am focused on right now:
Eat 3 meals a day, at 7, 12, and 6.
Eat a good amount of protein at every meal.
No sugar or white flour.
Work out every other day at Curves.
Eat a starch before bed.
The starch before bed is supposed to help my body make and absorb my own serotonin and beta endorphins, which will relieve my withdrawal from the Effexor. We'll see if it works. I feel pretty good mentally today, much better than yesterday morning. I don't want to look at short term results because they seem unimportant, but the bottom line is if there are no short term results, I won't have any reason to find out what the long term results are.

Ch-ch-changes

The winds of change are in the air! Today I am going to join a gym. This is not something I was willing to even consider until now. What has changed? Well, quite simply, I am desperate. I can't stand the way I look or feel. I have never felt so fat, which is logical since I've never been so fat either. I am trying to wean myself off of my anti-anxiety medication. Now don't freak everyone, I am under my doctor's supervision. My psychiatrist said that if I wanted to try it, the summer after my first year teaching would be the first time she would be OK with it. Here's the thing... the medication changes my brain chemistry in order to allow serotonin and endorphins to be absorbed. That's why it works. When I take less of it, my levels of serotonin and endorphins go down and I feel yucky. Other ways to raise those levels include eating sugar and exercising. Guess which one I have been doing? Yup. Inhaling Krispy Kremes like they're going out of style. I simply cannot seem to motivate myself to exercise. The winds of change (this time around) have come in the form of a book called Potatoes Not Prozac. I can identify with a great many of the things this author says, and she has backed up her statements with research. Her numbers get a little fuzzy when it comes to the percentage of her clients who have sustained long term recovery, but at this point even some short term recovery would do me a world of good, I think. She places a lot of focus on keeping a mentality of "one choice at a time," saying that even one day at a time is much too long term for this kind of problem. I really hope that if I work out, I will be able to resist eating sugar. If I don't start to do better, I will have to give up the idea of going off the medication. And I really don't want to give that idea up just yet.

Yesterday I thought that I would relax. No kids, no work, no lesson plans to do. Instead I was stir crazy all day. I talked to another teacher and he says it's the end of the year let down. Makes sense when I think about it... anytime one invests a lot of time and energy looking forward to something, when that something actually happens, there is no way it can measure up. Kind of like Christmas. So today I'm just going to clean the house.

hey hey hey, goodbye

Well, I have survived my first year of teaching. I'm still sane, and I am still upright. The biggest deal is that I plan on teaching again next year. Saying goodbye to my principal yesterday was the best part of my day, without a doubt. He scheduled a staff meeting, on the last day of work, and kept us for an HOUR. He has such an inflated sense of his own importance, he thinks whatever he has to say is great enough that the rest of us want to hear it too. So, we sat in groups and wrote a list on chart-size post it notes about the successes of the school year. Then we had to listen to him make a speech to each person who was leaving the school. Seven people are leaving, and five of them are from the 6th grade. What is wrong with this picture?? Anyway, I got to leave after the schmooze fest and I never have to go back there again.
Hooray!!

Good Choices

Yesterday two of my students were in trouble for something or other, and were called up to the office. During my plan, I saw them up there and asked what was happening. They were both honest with me and it turns out to be a pretty serious thing, especially for sixth graders. I patted their shoulders, went back to my room, and promptly sat down for a cry. I didn't cry because of anything having to do with me or my teaching. I cried because these kids are worth so much more that what they are choosing to do. I cried because I can see them making the wrong choices, going headlong down the wrong path, and because it's their choice and I have to let them make it.
Sometimes I think, wait! I can't be in charge here, I am hardly a good decision maker! I was making those choices not too long ago. Maybe that's why I have finally found my place in life. I made it through in one piece, in spite of all my bad decisions, and maybe I have something to say to these kids that will make a difference. I struggle every day to do the right things. The difference in the past few years is that the right thing has been winning. My life has changed. I have changed.
If I can figure out a way to warn these kids in a way they will understand, in a way that will make a difference, it will all have been worth it.

Open mouth, insert foot

I did something horrible today at work and I feel shitty about it. I was at a yet another math teacher meeting in an endless chain of them during which we decide nothing but pretend we're doing something important. We say meaningful things like "When you look at the data..." and "Using formatives for that purpose is..." and "Are there any more bagels?..."
A big shot from the district office was there, and we were talking about whether or not to change the sequence in which we teach math. Test scores came up, and one of the test scores that was being discussed was from a test my youngest daughter took a few weeks ago. I had looked at her results, and they were poor. Since she is normally one of the highest scorers, I asked her about the test. She said there were things on there that she didn't recognize from anywhere, and that had never been taught. Her math teacher was also at the meeting, by the way. Someone brought up that the reason for the low test scores might be that the items they used to teach those concepts must not have matched the test. So I piped up with my little tidbit of information, not realizing until later what a huge asshole I must have sounded like! She probably thought I was saying she was doing a crappy job. So I sent her an email apologizing, to which she has not responded. I wish I could keep my goddamn mouth shut.

I'm not changing the world.

My 10th period class is an elective, meaning I can pretty much teach whatever I want as long as there is some educational value in there. The students rotate electives every nine weeks, so once the first quarter was over, I just recycled the lesson plans. I chose to teach a cooking class. We take a recipe for cookies, brownies, or some other treat. We multiply the recipe so we make enough for everybody, and then we divide the recipe so that we can have each group mix up a bowl of whatever it is. They get a lot of conceptual fractions, and then when it's time to measure and mix, they get that experience too. I send out a letter at the beginning of each quarter, asking the parents if they would like to donate ingredients. I tell them it's OK if they don't want to. We'll just do fractions when we run out of stuff. They usually bring more than enough. I have the student mix and measure and make the dough or batter, and then I pack it up, take it home, and bake it on my own time. It's a lot of my own time and energy and sometimes money, but the students really enjoy it.
This quarter has been a little bit different. We had AIMS testing, my grandma died, I have been out of the classroom quite a bit for this meeting or that one. When we made chocolate chip cookies, I didn't have time to bake them... I stuck the dough in the freezer and told the kids they would get them when they got them. When I am going to be gone from the classroom, it throws a wrench into things because it takes 2 days to mix and measure the ingredients, and it has to be done 2 days in a row. Otherwise the ingredients are left sitting out, it goes bad and the stuff has to be thrown away.
Somebody complained about not getting the cookies. They didn't complain to me. They complained to the assistant principal, who then decided it would be a good idea to put a comment in my FORMAL EVALUATION saying that I wasn't following the curriculum for my 10th period class. Curriculum? Excuse me? I invented the curriculum. Nobody even wanted to see it. Neither administrator at my school, nor any other official, has bothered to come in and observe that class to see what we do. Nobody gave a rat's ass about that class until a parent complained. So the assistant principal wrote in my FORMAL EVALUATION that for nearly three weeks this quarter, I have not followed the curriculum. I am stunned. What actually happened is that I didn't get the cookies baked in a timely manner. Which is something I do on my own time, at night, outside of the school. How does that translate into not following the curriculum?
It's a good thing I joined the union.

An hour at a time

I am afraid to weigh myself. I think this is the fattest I have ever been! I have simply got to do something... I am desperate! I am thinking about getting over the counter appetite supressant. If that isn't desperate, tell me what is! This sugar addiction is insane. Every morning I think to myself, Ok, today is the day! I am not going to eat any sugar or flour today. Then I see something, like a cookie or piece of candy, and in spite of the fact that I really, REALLY don't want to do it, I grab it and shove it in my pie hole. My head starts aching and I feel really crappy when I haven't had any sugar. I'm not sure what to do about that. I think today I will try keeping fruit with me and eating some when I feel like I am about to go over the edge. And instead of thinking in terms of the entire day, I'll go an hour at a time and see how it goes.

Impeach him!

I haven't posted in quite some time. My grandmother died on Monday morning, and the week simply flew by. I had to redo my lesson plans so that a sub could take over for me on Thursday and Friday. I was terribly worried about my mom, although it turns out she did ok. My extended family came in from all over the place and there was just so much to be done. I have a lot of mixed feelings about all of it, but the only part that really matters is that it's over. My mom can have her life back, and my grandma is gone, and I don't have to feel one way or the other about any of it.
I have been thinking a lot about how much I love teaching and whether or not I will be able to do it for very long because of the parents and administrators. I hope that part of the job becomes less and less important, as I work to train myself to get my priorities straight. I have been trying to just take a deep breath whenever something happens that irritates me, like an email from a snotty parent or an unannounced visit from administration. Do those things have to affect my teaching? Of course not! But they will, unless I get a grip. So I am practicing letting the stuff go. Making a conscious decision to say, Self, you have no business getting upset about this piddly little thing. Just take care of it in a calm and professional matter, and then refuse to think about it further.
I just know I can get better at that! And then my job will be so much more enjoyable.
I really like most of my life now. I live in a house, a nice one, with enough money to pay for groceries and a decent car. It's still somewhat a meager existence, but like I tell my kids, this is the poorest we will be from now on. Every year from now on I will make a little more. And spend it. And so on. It's just nice to pay the bills without getting a stomachache. I love my house. I have been working on my parenting skills, and it shows in my children's behavior. Life is good! Now, I can focus my energy on being a good teacher and trying to get the president impeached.

It's a cabaret, old chum

Life is no picnic right now. It may be a cabaret, but it is certainly NOT a picnic. I know we all have ups and downs, roller coaster of life, yada yada and etc. My roller coaster goes any lower, and I will just refuse to get out of bed one of these days. The day can't start if I don't get up, right?
I just dread going to the closet to find something to wear. I quit drinking a few months ago, which took some doing, let me tell you. Something had to take the place of all those hops, and it turns out chocolate donuts are a pretty good replacement. Which is all fine and good, except that now none of my pants will go over my huge ass! My AA sponsor keeps saying ONE THING AT A TIME, and I agree, except that pretty soon I'll have to either buy new clothes or go to work naked, and believe me, none of us deserves that.
I've made two horrible discoveries over the weekend, the first being dulce de leche syrup from those wicked harpies at Hershey's. The second is karamel sutra from my two best friends, Ben and Jerry. How can I NOT eat a pint of this and wash it down with a quart of dulce de leche syrup? *sigh* I don't tend to wish misfortune on anyone, but I think I have a resentment building against whomever came up with those two things.
Which brings me to step four, another reason it sucks to be me right now. I take a fearless and thorough personal inventory, and actually write down everything that I am scared of, ashamed of, angry at, or is in my way of being a rational and productive human being. By the time I am finished, I will need to compile it alphabetically, like a volume of encyclopedia. I don't see how I will ever finish, as I do things daily that have to be added in, like telling one of my students that eventually somebody was going to kick his ass, and actually using those words. Then trying to apologize to the child's mother but coming off sounding more like she deserves a good ass kicking as well. Which she does. Where's my pen? I better add that.

Laugh of the Week

This letter of resignation is by far the best I have seen. You've simply got to read it.

What's on your IPod?

I like how my ipod mix is so eclectic, but this morning I was thinking how nice it would be to have a different ipod for every mood. I could color code them, so that when I wake up pissed off, like this morning, I could pick the red one and listen to music from Green Day and Alice in Chains. Then, when I felt like calming down, I could pick the blue one and listen to Ruth Brown and Mindy Smith. Or, if Apple was really cool, they would let me push a button on my ipod and tell it what kind of mood I was in. I could have a green button to say, "Hey, get the lead out, I'm going for a run" or pink for "I want girl voices and nothing else." I would need purple for "Don't even think about playing anything but Neil Diamond. I need a good cry." Wouldn't that be the shit?

But I'm changing the world, right?

Yesterday a couple of my 10th period students were passing around a picture, pointing at me and then the picture, and giggling. I was helping four students measure out flour for chocolate chip cookies (my 10th period is a cooking class) and dropped what I was doing to investigate. I confiscated the picture, and might have even thought it was funny if these particular students weren't making my life COMPLETELY MISERABLE! One of these students in particular is making me think I really don't want to be a teacher. In between rolling his eyes, calling me stupid, retarded, and whatever else comes to mind, and bullying the rest of the class, he manages to squeeze in calling me racist because he happens to be the only black kid in the class. I am a teacher, for christ sake, not a whipping post... his mother, of course, maintains that the problem must be me since I'm the one that keeps writing all the referrals.
I don't get paid enough to put up with this.

AIMS

Our state standardized test is coming up next week. Yesterday we had a staff meeting to prepare for administration of the test, which must be done according to a very specific set of rules. We had an entire packet of information to go over, which of course we only got halfway through because my principal is very cool in that he has staff meetings before school. That way they must end at a certain time. No group of people will sit there and waste time asking stupid questions that have already been answered ten times like teachers. Believe me. I have lived it.
One of the pieces of paper we had was a list of questions one may ask oneself to make sure ethical testing procedures are being followed. The list included questions like, "Am I using sample test questions because they cover the topic we are currently addressing, or is it only to prepare students for the test?" The list went on and on, and I got the impression that we weren't really supposed to be using all of the sample test questions, practice questions provided by the state, and all the other junk I was given, unless it was part of the lesson I had already planned.
Here is my problem: I have devoted several entire lessons to preparation for the test. I have a huge beef with people who complain about teachers who spend time preparing students for this test. If the state insists on using high stakes testing as a measure of student growth AND teacher competency, then nobody has any business telling me I cannot do everything in my power to make sure my students do well on that test.
The state looks at only one thing to decide whether or not I am doing my job as a math teacher: Test scores. The outcome of this one test determines what the state will think of me as a professional. The hours, blood, sweat, and tears I have spent teaching these little creatures to be human beings DO NOT COUNT. The only thing that counts is how they score on this test.
Does that mean I give up and teach them only things that will be on the test? Hell, no. For most of the year, I go about my days teaching them the things I think they need to know, based on my knowledge of their curriculum going forward in school. Basically, I prepare them to be 7th graders. But for about two weeks before the AIMS test, we do nothing but prepare for AIMS. I use everything I have been given. I use everything more than once. I drill the students. I make them repeat chants after me so that they will remember what to do when they get stuck.
I will give them gum and hard candy and juice and fruit during their breaks. I will have them write encouraging messages to each other in chalk on butcher paper covering the walls before the test. I will mother them and coddle them and believe in them. Because if the powers that be want to judge me on how my students perform on this one test, then what they really want is an assessment of how my students test. And that is what they shall have.

I so hate it when they fart...

I have a student who thinks he is a genius. His mother thinks he is not only a genius, but a faultless genius. He is so clever that he stole the teacher's manual and got his mother to believe it was an accident. He just cannot fathom why I insisted on punishing him. It happened a while back...
A few months ago, I was engaging in a friendly rivalry with another sixth grade teacher. Our classes were in competition to raise the most cans for the food drive before the holidays. Well, the other class won. Not to be outdone, I waited until his class was somewhere else, and then I took my class in his room and we stole the trophy. We left a note cut out of magazine letters that said, "Bring 27 chocolate bars to Ms. P's room if you want to see your trophy alive." Their response was to come in while we were gone and trash my room. They took the legs off of the desks, hid things, etc. We came back, and one of the things they had done was take all the math books out of the desks and put them in the cabinet. It was time for math, so I told the students to get a math book, once they had put their desk back together. In that same cabinet was an extra set of teacher's manuals. The teacher's manual comes in two volumes. This student siezed the opportunity, took one of the volumes and put it in his backpack. An accident, you say? No. The teacher's manual is at least 25% bigger than the student volume. Impossible to mistake for a regular book.
Fast forward a few months... This very clever student's mother found the teacher's manual in said student's room. She "threw the book into the garage," (?! the nut doesn't fall far from the tree) where according to her it remained for another month or so. Of course, the student wasn't using it or anything. One day last week, the student brought the book to the office after school. He told the office manager that he had been issued the book in the beginning of the year. Said office manager called me to tell me she had the book, and ask where he might have got it. She told the student to go home. I went to see if I had all of my copies, and sure enough, one of the books from the cabinet was missing. Things started to click into place... I have been arguing with this kid for months about not showing his work on his homework. I have been taking points away, begging, pleading for him to show his work. It all of a sudden makes sense!
The next day I talked to the assistant principal about how to handle the situation. He immediately called the student up and questioned him. The student eventually admitted to taking the book and said he used it for one homework assignment. Remember, he is a genius. Student ends up suspended for two and a half days, and mother writes me an email asking me to call her.
I called her, explained how and when he got the book, told her it could not have been an accident, and then told her about how I have been asking her kid to show his work. She was upset about the punishment, thought it was too severe, and said she thought going to the office and being interrogated was enough punishment. I said something along the lines of, "He stole that book out of my room. It isn't really about what he did with it. He took something that did not belong to him."
She said, and I quote, "I guess I just don't understand how him having that book translates into stealing school property."
I was literally stunned into silence for several moments. I told her that was where we disagreed, and I was not going to ask for the punishment to be reduced, which was what she wanted.
So, long story long, Friday was the kid's first day back to school, and I swear he must have been farting on purpose. I know it was him because of the look on his face. About the third time it happened, I took my "Lovespell" body spray that I keep in my desk for just such occasions, and sprayed it liberally around him and his desk. He stopped after that.
Using farts as revenge is just horribly fascinating to me.... the mentality that goes along with that is frightening. I mean, what does he think to himself? "I'll get her... I'll just fart in class and she won't know who did it, and she'll have to smell my farts and I won't get in trouble.'
Genius.

The Flying Dutchman

I chaperoned a trip to the opera last night. It's the first opera I have ever been to, and I have to say it might have been the last. I am going to try not to judge the whole genre by this single experience, but HOLY SHIT! The students finally fell asleep during the second act, for which I was eternally grateful because then I didn't have to listen to them complaining about how bored they were. My feet were killing me because the idea of going to the opera in high heels was just too irresistible, I could not pass it up. Now, don't get me wrong. It was terribly exciting before the opera actually started. People were coming in dressed in tuxedos and the most glamorous gowns. My daughter wore a beautiful beaded gown, low heels and her hair up and every time I looked for her I thought she was lost, because I kept thinking, Where is Emily? And who is that lady that keeps following me?
And then I would realize that was my baby, all grown up. It sucks to be jealous of your own kid. Anyway, the music was beautful, the orchestra was great. The opera was in German (oy! such an ugly language) and there were subtitles projected above the stage. I kept laughing because the subtitle would say something like, "I am coming for you, my dear" but the singing just went on and on... how can it possibly take that many syllables to say that sentence??
So, that was my opera experience. One of the other chaperones went to Phantom of the Opera and she said it was NOTHING like this, it was action packed and wonderful. So maybe I will give it another try before I decide I don't care for opera. All I can say is, don't go see the Flying Dutchman unless you are trying to punish whoever you bring with you.