Ode to Post-it Notes

You come in all colors, so I never get bored.
You stop me forgetting markers for my white board.
You remind me when my kids will come home from school late;
You remind me of my Sunday night coffee date.
I have to write checks for Emily's lunch,
I have to remember to make Jessica more punch,
I need to put all of our clothes in the dryer,
I shut off the crock pot so the house won't catch fire.
I leave notes for the kids to tell them I've gone,
I remember to hire a landscaper for the lawn.
I've got to make appointments for us with the doctor;
On Saturday there is a test I must proctor!
In all of these things you help me keep sane
For in my old age, my memory does wane
The only thing is, when I use that last note
To remind me to buy more whole grain oat
And your holder on the fridge door is bare
Remember to buy more myself - do I dare??

Short Week

The fuss over Rodeo puzzles me every year, as I just can't relate and pretty much don't get it! But there is always one good thing about it and that is the 3 day week. As usual, I am planning a test the day before the break to keep those squirrely preteens in check. The topping on the cake is that there is no staff meeting or professional development on Wednesday after school like there usually is. So I get to leave at 2:00!!

It's the love, ya'll!!

One more reason why Carla is so amazing: Padma made an "mmmmmm" face and Colicchio may have actually giggled(!) while sampling Carla's delicious-looking beignet and (less appealing-looking) oyster stew. I ask my fellow Top Chef enthusiasts: Have you ever seen either of them do anything remotely like that when eating any other "cheftestant's" food, in this or any other season?

And good for her for making a non-alcoholic cocktail. You rule, Carla! It's the love. I can almost feel it emanating from my teevee machine.

Ghetto School

I am so worried about my future. Really, really worried. The budget cuts in education are going to be drastic. I will probably be able to find a job somewhere, at some school, but it's probably not going to be at the school I want, teaching the grade I want. To be truthful I am really feeling like I want to leave teaching. But the economy is so bad... nobody is hiring, everyone is cutting back. I may be forced to keep teaching even though it's not what I want anymore, and thank my lucky stars for any job I can get! I worry that next year I will have to change schools AGAIN, which means another year of setting up shop, getting used to the kids, leaving my friends and starting over, and reinventing the wheel if it's a different grade level because I can't use the resources I have built up. I have to find new ones.
Yesterday I had an incident with one of my students. He pushed by me, then made a fist and rushed up as if to hit me. I am going to press charges against him because to do otherwise would jeopardize the safety of my colleagues. The students and the other teachers were really shaken after it happened, everyone feeling kind of unsafe because this student just completely freaked out and really came close to hitting me. So I am thinking, I need this? I need to work my ass off for THIS?? Really?? Then at lunch another teacher said that the big fight that happened the other day was on YouTube. I went home and checked, and sure enough, one of the kids had recorded the fight and posted it. I know that every generation shakes their heads and says, "These kids today... What is society coming to?" That's where I am at. I can't relate to them, I don't understand them. I am shocked and horrified by some of them.
It's possible that after I calm down I will think what I usually think... that I can't imagine not teaching, and that any other job is going to be boring and stupid. Lord knows I've tried enough of them. In the end, the rewards of teaching outweigh the pain and sorrow of the job. Still, there's a part of me that wants to finish my math degree, be an actuary, and never have to deal with other people at all.

Wednesday Bitchery

Wednesday is now my day of rest, so I am afraid there isn't much bitchery going on. On Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, I run/walk. On Saturday, I cross train with a body flow class that is part pilates, part yoga, and part tai chi. Wednesday is the only day I completely rest the bod. It's also the night one of my favorite people in the world comes over for dinner and helps Jessica with her Calculus. So I kind of adore Wednesday now.
Anyway if you want to read some bitchery see the last 1000 posts or so.

Fantasy Land

A note from a parent I received yesterday:

"Dear Ms. (my name),
I would really like for (son's name) to come in for extra help after school three days a week. I would really like to get his grade up.

(her name)"

The note I really would have loved to write back:

"Dear parent who lives in fantasy land,
Lady, I don't know where you work or who you work for, but I seriously doubt that if some whack-job asked you to stay after quitting time and work an extra hour for free three days a week, you would agree to do it. If you want private instruction for your precious baby, you'll have to pay for it. And you'll have to pay somebody else because I see as much as I need to see of him each day. Anyway, your son doesn't need tutoring. He needs to pay the fuck attention when I am teaching, and try moving his pencil on his paper every now and then. Maybe do a homework assignment or two? Finally, it's not your job to get his grade up. It's his job. So I really don't give a shit what you'd like. Time to cut the apron strings.

Sincerely,
Ms. Reality Check"

A note I got from another parent the day before, which was photocopied and given to the attendance clerk and the assistant principal as well:

"(Assistant principal's name),
(son's name) has an ankle injury. His math teacher insisted that he stand at the beginning of class yesterday. Would you please tell her that he has a medical condition.

(her name)"

The note I really would have LOVED to write back:

"Dear mother who takes her 13 yr. old lying dumbass son's word as gospel,
Do you know how you can tell when your son is lying? I do. It's when his lips are moving. Your son, who shows absolutely no evidence of any problem with either ankle, as witnessed by me when he ran by my classroom earlier today with his numbnut friends, was tardy for class. I told him to wait to sit down until I could mark him tardy, and his reply was that his ankle hurt and he was going to sit down. I ignored the disrespect as it happens on a daily basis, marked him tardy, and did not stop him from taking his seat. Maybe, if your precious son has an ankle injury, you might inform the school and get a note from the doctor. Or maybe the nut doesn't fall far from the tree and you are lying too. Either way, how dare you write your snotty note without asking me what happened first, and address the assistant principal instead of me. Lady, you have created your own hell and it's only going to get worse. I'll watch you on Judge Judy someday. Until then, stick it up your ass.

Sincerely,
Ms. kiss my white, bumpy ass"