Ahh, testing

We are testing this week. No lesson plans, no collecting homework. Just blissful quiet. Until the results come in, that is, when I will crash into a dismal depression over the failure of my 7th graders to grasp the state standards.

My Revenge

The Girl Scout Cookies may have won the battle, but I won the war. Thankfully, yesterday an intervention came in the form of my dry skin.
I was putting lotion on my legs when I became acutely aware of the muscle in my right calf. It was flexed because I had my foot up on my dresser to put the lotion on, and the thought that came to mind was, and I quote: "Holy Shit, girl, that is TIGHT!!!" (Tight being the word my students have been using to describe something that is so beyond cool that it is not cool anymore, but tight.)
It was quite a revelation, because it may have been the first time that I have become aware of part of my body and had a positive reaction to it. I came out of my cookie coma right then, and said to myself, "Melissa, you are NOT going to let this happen. Get your shit together THIS INSTANT and go to the gym." And I went. Not only that, I walked there, worked out, and walked home.
I kept thinking about the cookies, though. There was still 1/2 a box of the peanut butter Do-si-dos beckoning to me seductively. (Serving size: 1 tube. Calories: 550.) So this morning, I put them down the disposal. At $4.00 a box, that was two dollars I just threw down the drain. Literally.
So next year, I will recognize the girl scouts for the crack-pushing, cellulite whores that they are. I will not buy cookies, and if I feel I must donate money, I will remember that it's better to just give it to them directly than to put it down the drain. I have fond memories of my own girl scouts experiences, and my leader was one of the strong women who became my role models as an adult. Which is why I end up buying the cookies every year. BUT NO MORE!! Hear me, girl scouts? Hear me, fat cells? I WIN!!!!!

Undone by the girl scout cookies

I have come completely undone. Well, not completely. I still keep starting out every morning with a protein shake and good intentions. The girl scout cookies got here Tuesday morning. Before I even left work, I had eaten an entire box. Serving size: 2 cookies. Calories: 150. Servings in box: 8. That's 1,350 calories, people! And a stomachache, a headache, and total derailment of plans for the stupid 20 year reunion! I didn't lose any weight last week. I am not meeting my goals! I came home Tuesday, still went to the gym, but proceeded to eat another 1/3 of a box of cookies before bed. I woke up Wednesday, had a protein shake, and told myself I was starting over. Then I got home from work and ate the other 2/3 of the open box, and didn't walk. Yesterday I did fine all day at work, but I was thinking about the damn cookies. I got home and ate 1/2 a box, and didn't go to the gym or walk. Last night I had weird lesbian dreams involving the ocean and woke up with a monstrous headache. I am destroying myself! I can't stop! I think I need rehab! Is there cookie rehab??? CURSE THE GIRL SCOUTS AND THEIR BLASTED COOKIES!!!!

Tainted Peanut Butter!!

There's tainted peanut butter in my cupboard! Or was, rather... my youngest daughter looked at the code on the lid, and sure enough, it's one of the recall jars. It was almost gone, but none of us got sick. I told her to throw it away, but I wonder if that was silly. If we already ate almost the whole jar, and didn't get sick, it must be ok, right?

Why don't you just say the negroes are taking over the world?

In our school newsletter, which is published every Friday, the Principal put a little blurb about Abraham Lincoln last week. Yesterday she forwarded to the entire staff an email from a parent, thanking everyone who was involved in the newsletter for doing such a great job. The parent also wrote this:
"Thank you for mentioning President Lincoln in there as well. He seems to have gotten lost in the "black history month" so it was good to see you mention him."
I have to trust my gut reaction to this statement, which was that this statement is a veiled racist rant. I understand that I live in suburbia (people have decorated the OUTSIDES of their houses for Valentine's day, by the way), and that there are few people of color, even fewer of whom are black. But I am still jarred when people say and do things like this, and I am ashamed to say it has happened more times than I care to admit. It makes me think I need to move away from here. The quotation marks around Black History Month and the fact that the words aren't capitalized, combined with the insinuation that a white man isn't getting the attention he deserves add up to nothing more than plain bigotry.
I also have to wonder why the principal didn't see this? Did it even occur to her that the statement might be considered racist? Did she stop and think before she forwarded it to everyone? I doubt it. She's so entrenched in this community, she probably didn't even notice the racist undertones. That's what happens when racist behavior is considered acceptable in your community. I need to get out of here.

I hate science fair

What a week! I've been working my head off. My youngest daughter waited until 2 days before her science fair project was due to get started on it, and even though I refused to bail her out, it was still a very stressful couple of days. I did the right parenting thing, but it was definitely not the easy way out. I kept reminding her of why she was in this situation, and that she did not have anyone to blame but herself, etc. Of course, it would have helped greatly if I didn't have to be the only parent. I am very angry and resentful at my ex right now because he could have helped and he chose not to. I'm so angry that I feel like telling him I'm not driving the girls to meet him this Friday, and if he wants to see them he can come get them. But when I think that through, I am afraid that he will come get them and then refuse to bring them back, and put me in the same situation I am thinking of putting him in. And that isn't what is best for the girls. So, I will bite my tongue and swallow my anger and take them as usual. And my stomach will complain. My sense of fairness and justice will complain. And nothing will change. It's the powerlessness that eats away at me. What it all boils down to is that I chose him as the father of my children, and I chose to divorce him, and although they were both reasonable choices at the time, these are the results.
I have finished reading "You: On A Diet" and have exercised every day this week except Thursday. (Ok, I skipped my walk because I was helping with science fair.) This book insists that being accountable is very important for success in making permanent life changes. It says to walk every single day, no excuses, for 30 minutes, and talk to somebody when I'm finished. I'm also supposed to eat cinnamon. hmmm.

The Very Long Day

We have conferences today and tomorrow. They are not parent-teacher conferences anymore. They are student led conferences. The student runs the conference. We have spent a week preparing them, having them evaluate themselves and their performance in school. The big idea is to get them to feel ownership over their grades. It's a good idea... but there is resistance from some of the kids and some of the parents. The same ones that have always blamed the teacher and the school for their kids' shortcomings. Most of them are ok with it though.
Either way it means I have to work until 7:30 tonight, which sucks no matter how you slice it. I am wearing all black, putting my hair in a bun, and wearing my sensible shoes. I'm all business today. I have to be - each conference lasts 20 minutes and there is no way I'm getting behind!