Friday, August 24, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Somerset Collection
Today, Xander and Mommy went shopping at the Somerset Collection in Troy for Mommy's "back-to-school" clothes. Even us teachers need some new school outfits to look fashionable throughout the season (makes going back to work more tolerable!) Today, is also the day I decided to never again take a toddler to the mall.
Now that Xander can press a button and unlock himself out of his stroller, he refuses to stay seated. "I want out! Want to walk!"
He stiffens and wails when Mommy tries to put him back in the stroller upon one of his escapes. Besides putting a straight jacket on the kid, he's so stubborn he will get his way or die trying. "I want to walk!"
Ducking into the Gap dressing room to try on some jeans and pants, I let him walk around in my tennis shoes to keep him quiet. "I smell kaka, Mama." So I change his pull-up right there on the Gap floor on the dressing room. Five minutes later. "I smell kaka again."
Mommy changes it again. Mommy struggles to get toddler back in stroller. Mommy forces toddler against his will back into stroller. Toddler screams bloody murder. Salesgirl asks if things are alright.
Things are alright as Xander escapes from his stroller again and runs out into the mall.
Never again. In three hours, all I managed to buy is one shirt and two pairs of socks. Between tantrums, feedings, changings, strapping into stroller, there wasn't any time or any sanity left to shop. This teacher has finally learned a lesson.
Now that Xander can press a button and unlock himself out of his stroller, he refuses to stay seated. "I want out! Want to walk!"
He stiffens and wails when Mommy tries to put him back in the stroller upon one of his escapes. Besides putting a straight jacket on the kid, he's so stubborn he will get his way or die trying. "I want to walk!"
Ducking into the Gap dressing room to try on some jeans and pants, I let him walk around in my tennis shoes to keep him quiet. "I smell kaka, Mama." So I change his pull-up right there on the Gap floor on the dressing room. Five minutes later. "I smell kaka again."
Mommy changes it again. Mommy struggles to get toddler back in stroller. Mommy forces toddler against his will back into stroller. Toddler screams bloody murder. Salesgirl asks if things are alright.
Things are alright as Xander escapes from his stroller again and runs out into the mall.
Never again. In three hours, all I managed to buy is one shirt and two pairs of socks. Between tantrums, feedings, changings, strapping into stroller, there wasn't any time or any sanity left to shop. This teacher has finally learned a lesson.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
13 Days
In exactly 13 days, I will be back in the classroom. Boo hoo! Where did the summer go? Why does it always seem that fun times go by so quickly, while days at work go by so slowly? Each minute is still only 60 seconds.
I must squeeze in all the fun I can before I go back to work. My priority now is to play, play, and play some more with my two-year-old son before summer sets and autumn returns for another crisp season.
Is it too much to ask for good, respectable, responsible high school students this year? I will try to be the best teacher I can, and I only ask my students to be the best they can. If you come to class, expect to work. Come prepared, bring your books, read, write and enjoy it. My job will be much more enjoyable. Yes, I know I am a dreamer. THE SECRET says to visualize the positive, right?
I must squeeze in all the fun I can before I go back to work. My priority now is to play, play, and play some more with my two-year-old son before summer sets and autumn returns for another crisp season.
Is it too much to ask for good, respectable, responsible high school students this year? I will try to be the best teacher I can, and I only ask my students to be the best they can. If you come to class, expect to work. Come prepared, bring your books, read, write and enjoy it. My job will be much more enjoyable. Yes, I know I am a dreamer. THE SECRET says to visualize the positive, right?
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Blurry-Eyed and Bushed
You’re not tired yet? Unbelievable. Eye can feel my lids becoming heavy and beginning to close.
Can’t…stay…open. Must…stay…open.
Just before Eye fade to black, you force me back open to stare blankly at a little blinking black line on a white, almost blank computer screen. I think you called it a “canvas” once.
Can’t you see that Eye’m getting blurry? The stinging and burning sensation you feel in my sockets should tip you off. Yeah, yeah, Eye know that you got a late start. Shouldn’t have been abusing me and wasting me by flipping through the television channels trying to find that Reality TV marathon. Like “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” is worth blowing the opportunity to become a bestselling author. You’re pushing me too hard, and Eye don’t like it one bit. Eye don’t want to be blamed if you miss your deadline. Eye won’t be responsible for your procrastination.
Why don’t you give us a break? Eye’m just two pale-green irises with overworked pupils that cannot help you anymore. You’re getting too pushy. Eye can get really irritated if you strain me. Look in the mirror at me and you will see those little red squiggly lines forcing their way in. Eye’m so ugly. Not very becoming on a promising, new writer. Eye even think I see some dark, puffy circles under me. Tsk tsk. Why do you treat me so badly? Without me, you’re nothing. Sure you’ll still have your imagination—but you can’t create without vision. Face it. You need me.
Can you stop yawning and rubbing at me? It won’t make things better. Eye thought we were a team—you and Eye. The only thing that will help us now is a good night’s sleep. All Eye can see are hazy images of letters mixing into words and blurring into sentences. Members of the alphabet lost and angry-- jumping out at me from the screen. Oops! Just spotted some spelling errors and a few typos. There’s really no rush, you know. Better for you to perfect your work than to get any more of those nasty rejection letters. You know Eye hate reading those. They’re brutal on our motivation.
Get some rest, girl. Shut me…close me…it’s okay. Relax. You know Eye will be here for you tomorrow. Well-rested and ready to go. Me…you…the canvas. Sound like a plan?
Darkness.
Lights out.
Goodnight.
Finally some shut eye.
Michelle Kane hopes you GET LIT with her new novel, CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL. A portion of profits from book sales to be donated to domestic violence shelters.
Can’t…stay…open. Must…stay…open.
Just before Eye fade to black, you force me back open to stare blankly at a little blinking black line on a white, almost blank computer screen. I think you called it a “canvas” once.
Can’t you see that Eye’m getting blurry? The stinging and burning sensation you feel in my sockets should tip you off. Yeah, yeah, Eye know that you got a late start. Shouldn’t have been abusing me and wasting me by flipping through the television channels trying to find that Reality TV marathon. Like “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” is worth blowing the opportunity to become a bestselling author. You’re pushing me too hard, and Eye don’t like it one bit. Eye don’t want to be blamed if you miss your deadline. Eye won’t be responsible for your procrastination.
Why don’t you give us a break? Eye’m just two pale-green irises with overworked pupils that cannot help you anymore. You’re getting too pushy. Eye can get really irritated if you strain me. Look in the mirror at me and you will see those little red squiggly lines forcing their way in. Eye’m so ugly. Not very becoming on a promising, new writer. Eye even think I see some dark, puffy circles under me. Tsk tsk. Why do you treat me so badly? Without me, you’re nothing. Sure you’ll still have your imagination—but you can’t create without vision. Face it. You need me.
Can you stop yawning and rubbing at me? It won’t make things better. Eye thought we were a team—you and Eye. The only thing that will help us now is a good night’s sleep. All Eye can see are hazy images of letters mixing into words and blurring into sentences. Members of the alphabet lost and angry-- jumping out at me from the screen. Oops! Just spotted some spelling errors and a few typos. There’s really no rush, you know. Better for you to perfect your work than to get any more of those nasty rejection letters. You know Eye hate reading those. They’re brutal on our motivation.
Get some rest, girl. Shut me…close me…it’s okay. Relax. You know Eye will be here for you tomorrow. Well-rested and ready to go. Me…you…the canvas. Sound like a plan?
Darkness.
Lights out.
Goodnight.
Finally some shut eye.
Michelle Kane hopes you GET LIT with her new novel, CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL. A portion of profits from book sales to be donated to domestic violence shelters.
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