Thankful

One of my friends and coworkers, the one who met me last night out on the practice field along with a couple of hundred other people for Nate's candlelight vigil, said on her Facebook that students don't realize that impact is not just one way. It's not just us, as teachers, impacting our students' lives. They impact ours as well. Every day we come into contact with dozens of students, and they affect us just as we affect them. She's right. I am not the person I would have been without working with the hundreds of students I have seen in my eleven years of teaching, both as an intern and a certified teacher.

My students know that I struggle with names. My brain has a disconnect between name and face, so very often. There are some that are seared into memory, for good or evil, true, but even if I know a student very well, I often freeze up and completely forget his or her name. They're generally kind about my forgetfulness. In turn, I reassure them that it is nothing personal, and that I do know who they are.

I never forgot Nate's name. I don't know if I ever would have.

Last night I had the opportunity to speak briefly at the vigil, after we had lit our wind-threatened candles and people were able to share stories and memories about this boy who had touched all our lives. I said that his father had asked me which year Nate had been in my class, and I struggled to remember--not because I didn't remember him, but because it felt as though I had known him for much longer. Then some former students reminded me that I had him during his junior year, and it all came back to me.

The year I had Nate in class was most definitely not the easiest year of my life, I said, and laughter broke out around the huge circle from all the other former students who remembered. It hadn't been. That was the year my life had fallen apart, the facade of strength and happiness and a decent marriage crumbling as that marriage imploded and I literally disappeared from work for three weeks. I managed to hold things together once I got back to work, but barely.

Nate was one of the few people who could get me to smile, even on my worst days. He was no Pollyanna--he had a snarkiness and sarcasm that worked better anyway--but his smile lit up the room. He would bring me chocolate and food, because he knew that's what works with Ross. Just a few months ago he came in with a couple other former students to bring me lunch, because he knew I always forget my lunch. 

He was one of those people who make others feel better about themselves. He was one of the people who make the world a better place by being in it. I would have always remembered him, even without this tragedy. I will always remember him.

I'm glad I had the chance to share that with his parents, his friends, his Color Guard family.

Today has been a rough day, for various reasons. I'm here at work, and I'm getting things done, and I'm working with the students. But I'm not smiling. And in return, my students are being solicitous and cooperative. Several have checked to make sure I'm okay and not in the throes of deep depression--and I'm not, but I understand why they're wondering. A student who missed class because he slept in brought me donuts and a mocha and a tray of baklava as an apology (they know my weaknesses, these kids). One of the girls who always eats lunch in my room asked if I'd like her to bring in a slice of homemade chocolate cake tomorrow.

They're gentle.

They care.

As I sit here, not eating lunch because I have no appetite, but sipping on a cafe mocha from Tim Hortons, I feel a wave of thankfulness washing over me, pricking my eyes with tears.

They're my kids. They're the reason I stick with this job despite all the thanklessness and political bullshit.

And I hope that they will leave this school with memories of a teacher who made a difference in their lives, just as they made a difference in mine.

Style and Stylability

Warning: Many links to many amazing things ahead. I've already gotten a couple of other people hooked. This is fair warning. You may be as well...

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I've never felt like I have much of a sense of style when it comes to home decor. Other than the boylets' nursery, I've never even decorated an entire room. The Ex and I always had plans for the basement, when we finished it (we never even started), and for the dining and living rooms (we never moved beyond an area rug and some paint chips.) Even in my home with MTL, we never did get around to painting the bedrooms as we had planned. Time ran out, school started up, and other than choosing paint chips yet again...nothing. There are a few desultory photos and pieces of art on some walls, and decorative pieces placed on bookcases and the entertainment cabinet.

The most cohesively decorated room in our house is the downstairs half-bath, which has developed a soft seaside theme. It's nothing overwhelming.

I don't have much confidence in my ability to pull together cohesive, lovely interior design. I've doubted my instinct for it, and it's certainly never been put to the test. I was recently in the home of a friend-of-a-friend who had every room beautifully painted, with just the right decorative pieces and pillows and furniture and art. It felt pulled-together and homey and elegantly artsy. Even though I might not have made the same choices for my own home, I felt a streak of envy over her design instinct.

As I mentioned in my self-pitying moan yesterday, I've become addicted to Etsy.com, the home of many many beautiful handmade things (along with the downright bizarre and fugly, much celebrated on Regretsy.com, which I discovered first.) The brilliant and very artsy Heidi finally got me hooked on Etsy a few weeks ago, and I've been obsessed ever since.

As my list of favorite items and stores has grown, and as I've channeled my creative and obsessive urges into crafting thematic treasury lists, I've begun to recognize definite trends in what I like.

Apparently I am much drawn to stark, elegant trees and branches (like these pillows and these drawings and these incredible woodburnings and this pendant and this print collection and the breathtaking photography of a fellow Michigander). I can picture the art and pillows in my dream living room, with lots of wood and soft earthy tones in the furniture.

I knew that I like birds--at least when they're outdoors--but did not realize how much I love their images in art and jewelry until I started recognizing the trend in my Etsy picks. From stylized art to Poe-esque gothic photography to fantasy illustrations to incredible watercolors, birds appear in much of the art to which I am drawn. They even show up in some of my jewelry picks, sometimes combining both bird and tree, as in this elegant pendant.

I also love a number of quirky items, such as the work of the artists OddFauna and Kellie Schneider and Studio Lyon, as well as the slightly less weird but still left-of-center Eastwiching (check out the adorable foxes and elephants, especially!)

I'm beginning to create rooms in my head. I'd have the living room done with trees and birds. Animals and fairy tale creatures would frolic in kids' and guest bedrooms. I already have a huge gorgeous stick-and-ink drawing of three female figures in my bedroom (courtesy of my sister from her art class days), and I'd continue on that theme with work from artists like Krystyna and Kellie Schneider. (I don't think MTL would mind.) I'd increase our collection of wood carvings with work from the Natural Selection Studio and DD Wood Creations.

My dream house would be filled with rich earthy tones and soft blues and greens. Brighter colors would pop in accent decor. There would be wood everywhere, along with comfortable but streamlined furniture. It would be a place where I would be surrounded by beauty in every room, but where my heart and mind and soul would be soothed.

I have a home wherever I am with My True Love, but I can dream of a place that would our home in physical as well as emotional expression.

Now I just have to win the lottery...

Grace Notes

This has been a hard week. You'd think that having two snow days to start out the week would make it Teh Awesome, and it kinda sorta did, but driving on the Worst Ever In People's Memory roads wasn't a great joy, and the last couple of weeks have tended to be full of Stress! Stress! Drama! while quite short on Sleep! Blessed Sleep! Also, imagine the fun of trying to cram five days' worth of work into three before the students flee for a two-week break. Fun Times.

So stomachs have been clenched, muscles have been knotted, and teeth have been gritted. Needless to say, tempers have also been short.

Yesterday, in fact, MTL arrived home in a horrible mood--the worst, he confessed, since we've been together. My mood wasn't sunshine and daisies either. At one point, while trying to convince the %&#()@ cabinet drawer to get back on its runner and slide back in dammit, I slid back against the opposing cabinet, lowered my head to my knees, and let the tears just flow for a little while. It's all just the buildup of everything that has been going on, especially with The Dark One, and work stress, and extended family stress, and reaching a point of Deep Core Stuff in therapy, and....yeah.

Fortunately for those around us, MTL and I are self-aware enough to clamp down on our tongues and do our damnedest to Think before we React when we're highly stressed. I won't say we didn't trip up a bit last night, but there weren't the rages or tempestuous fights or OMG EVERYONE JUST GO AWAY moments that could very well happen at times like that.

Thank God. Which I mean literally, because I believe He helped, even if it was just having our guardian angels lay a finger on our lips from time to time so they didn't open until we'd had a moment to think first. And I'm also thankful that He gave us each other, because being able to debrief with and vent to and comfort each other goes a long way toward making it all survivable.

Today...well, today is a new day. MTL didn't get much sleep again last night, but I did, so at least one of us has some renewed energy to deal with Stuff. And it's the last day of school before Winter Break. And my students are being very sweet.

You know, it tends to be elementary teachers who get the cache of holiday gifts (which reminds me--OOPS) more so than secondary, but sometimes we still get a little something here and there from kids who want to suck up love us. My kids know my weakness. Oh yes, they do. A dear former student who was very sad to discover she would  not have me for honors English 11 this year showed up a couple of days ago with an adorable frosted sugar cookie man. Today another student handed me a heavy gift bag that contains a massive box of fancy European cookies. Yet another gave me a box of six Godiva Truffle Bars and a $10 Godiva gift card. (The girl is GOOD.) And knowing my tenth graders, I'll most likely have another few gifts as the day goes on.

But you know what my favorite gift was today? The handwritten note that accompanied the Godiva. Inside, it reads:

Dear Ms. [TeacherMommy],
So I swear to god, I'm not just kissing ass when I say this, but, thanks for being the first teacher in 5 years to make me love English again.
It used to be my favorite subject and I'm not sure what happened, but I'm actually starting to enjoy it finally.
So thanks.

I really need to start scrapbooking all those kinds of notes and cards and emails and whatnot. That's the sort of thing to pull out on the rough days.

Life is messy and difficult and sometimes overwhelming, but it's the little things that matter. The notes of appreciation from students, the kisses and cuddles and You're so pretty, Mommy! from my kidlets, the teasing from my stepson that says he is comfortable and affectionate with me in his own way, the I love you! on the phone from my younger stepdaughter, walking out to a car scraped off and warming up each morning thanks to MTL, the look in his eyes when he sees me, the words of appreciation and love that he gives me for the things I do to keep this crazy family up and running, laughter around the table while we eat or play UNO...

And above all, the sense that as crazy as life can be, I am Home.

Updates: Because I Know You Were Wondering

1. Why yes, I am feeling better! And here's the absolutely AMAZING thing: all it took was for me to STOP TAKING THE MEDICINE. Oh yes. You have that right. After multiple trips to the doctor and an ultrasound for my bladder and kidneys, all I really had to do was stop taking the damn Macrobid, keep drinking lots of water, and do my back stretches just a little more thoroughly. And HEY PRESTO! I don't feel like I'm dragging my body across a desert wasteland, my back feels mostly okay (considering it's my back), and my nether regions feel a little less like they've been channeling a little piece of the netherworld.

I'm still going to the urologist next week, though. I'm also still chugging water (and running for the bathroom) on a regular basis. Lesson: learned (hopefully).

2. In case you were wondering, I DID in fact get both a hug (more than one, actually) and a Date Night with MTL last week. Although we may have been so tired that we settled for a visit to our favorite Mexican restaurant and then snuggling on the couch to watch a movie. WITH NO ONE ELSE AROUND. Just maybe. And really? That was good. Very good.

3. On Saturday we drove down to Detroit and hauled my brother and his things back up to my house. He's been having a bit of a rough time living down there lately, what with the loneliness and the lack of available jobs and transportation issues and whatnot, and when he crashed my parents' car...well, he need some TLC. So we brought him up to our place for not quite two weeks, and it worked very well and he fit in perfectly and when he left--well, we kind of wanted him back. So we invited him to come live with us at least until my parents come back in March, and he said yes, and now we are Eight. Since the Dark One has stayed only one night at our place since she left in September (because God forbid she be away from her troll boyfriend for any length of time), we moved my brother into that room instead.

For the sake of this blog, he shall henceforth be known as "DMB", which is short for "DorkMaster B". Trust me, it fits. And he approves.

4. Thursday is DramaBoy's fifth birthday. FIFTH. This is bizarre. It's also Thanksgiving, here in these American parts, so we're sort of combining them but also tentatively planning a separate party in a couple of weeks and once again I am reminded that holiday birthdays are kind of annoying. Even though they are easier to remember. Considering that seven out of the eight of us (I'm including DMB here) have birthdays either on or right around holidays, it's a family Thing now.

Me: Christmas Day
MTL: Valentine's Day
DMB: Just before Halloween
The Dark One: American Independence Day
KlutzGirl: Often around Easter (this year, it's on Good Friday)
DramaBoy: Right around (or, this year, on) American Thanksgiving
The Widget: Often around Easter (a little earlier than KlutzGirl)

So the only one who isn't is The Padawan. Poor boy. Or lucky one, considering he gets his very own day without a holiday mucking up the process.

5. On the side of Evil triumphing over Good, two very evil things have occurred this week: first, someone(s) broke into my parents' house on Monday (fortunately while the renter was out), smashing a window and breaking down some interior doors. My brother's things were gone, of course, and my parents' were packed away, so only the poor renter suffered loss. His laptop and some other things were stolen. It all makes me very angry: most likely someone saw us moving my brother out and figured there would be less monitoring of the house. At least the (very active) house alarm limited the time and damage. And yet: SIGH.

The second and more evil of the events is that one of my stepson's teachers was arrested on suspicion of child molestation--not at school and not one of the students, but OMG ANYWAYS. This sort of thing makes me so very angry on so many levels: that the evil of molestation happens, that child molesters exist at all, that it was one of my stepson's teachers (!!!!), and that once again it is one of these cases where the evil individual will cast a shadow over the entire educational system. I know it's all alleged right now, and that guilt and innocence must wait for the trial and all that....but still.

This week has not been strong for the side of Good.

6. Except for the case of my school's annual Canned Food Drive. We nearly missed our goal, but a flurry of last-minute cash donations edged us over, and as of this morning we have collected the equivalent of over 60,000 cans in food and cash donations for a local food bank. It's one of the reasons I love this school: the staff and students here regularly reach astonishing levels of generosity for a wide variety of charitable causes. The Food Drive is one; next week the annual Gift Drive for an impoverished elementary school in Detroit takes place; other drives occur frequently to help charities and individual students and families stricken by illness and accident. Last year alone my school raised over $84,000 in charitable donations. That's not the district; that's not the county; that was ONE SCHOOL ALONE. In one year. And while we do have wealthy students and families here, we also have the very, very poor. It's a very diverse school both ethnically and socio-economically.

So that? That makes me proud. And it gives me hope, a little light in the darkness, that sometimes, just perhaps, Good can in fact overcome the many forces of Evil.

If Wishes Were Horses, I'd Totally Sell The Horses And Get This Stuff Instead. Forget Black Beauty. I'll Take Black Boots.

There is an increasingly large gap growing between what I WANT for Christmas and my birthday (which are totally the same day so it's convenient for gift-giving, but it's NOT okay to just make one present work for both unless it's a REALLY BIG PRESENT) (just sayin') and what I NEED for Christmas and my birthday. This is one of the sadder parts of becoming terminally adult.

Well, that and all the joint creaking. You should hear me when I get up from bed or the couch or, well, pretty much any position in which my joints have to move from one angle to another. I sound like a really big bowl of Rice Krispies, or possibly a bag of microwaveable popcorn. Plus I often have to hoist myself up and then put my hand on my lower back because my back, it's lopsided and stuff. I'm 32 years old and already moving like a grandma.

It's sexy as hell, yo.

Anywho, I have a growing list of all the fun stuff I'd really like to get as gifts, as well as a growing list of all the things I actually need and don't necessarily have the money to get. And since I know you are all DYING to know what's on those lists, I'll share them with you!

You're welcome.

Here's What I Want, What I Really Really Want

1. A bunch of t-shirts from my new favorite merchandise website, ThinkGeek.com, especially these ones:

Because cookies make everything better. Especially double dark chocolate.

Because it's the Answer, of course!*

SPACE INVADERS! Now with extra destruction!

"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Seriously, I think my life would be complete if I had this.**

This just makes me giggle.

Oh yes. I am that geeky. Although Next Generation is still my favorite.***

Sheldon is my hero. Even though I think I would probably stab him to death with a hundred very sharp pencils if I actually lived with him. I don't know how Leonard handles it.****

So. Awesome.

And again, brilliance from Sheldon. I want this in poster form, too.

This is what I'm talking about. I mean, seriously. LOVE.

2. Boots. I know, I know, I have a ton already, but there are a couple kinds I really want. One is a pair of tight-fitting brown high heeled boots that will perfect several specific outfits:

Like these

Or these. I'm not picky.

And then just because I've wanted a pair for a very, very long time, a pair of thigh-high black high heeled boots (but not a pair that looks too hooker-y. Because I have standards.):

Yes. Perfect.

DON'T JUDGE ME.

3. And of course I really want an elf ranger outfit to go with my ears, only that's going to be really hard to do because even the stores/websites that sell things like this seem to have never realized that maybe WOMEN want to dress like elf rangers and would prefer something of quality rather than the stupid little Peter-Pan-ish Halloween-y crap that is the only stuff I can find. ARGH. Anyhow, an outfit that would look something like this:

Yes, the bow and arrows and bracer and boots too. 
Because I'm a total geek, that's why.

4. Also from ThinkGeek.com, I really, really, really want this USB Webcam Missile Launcher that would allow me to launch foam darts at my students without them even realizing I'm watching them on the webcam. Sleeping when you're supposed to be working? PEW PEW!!! Talking to your neighbor when you shouldn't? K-CHOW!!! Just being a general annoyance? PEW PEW K-CHOW WHAM PEW PEW PEW!!!!!!

Beware my wrath!!!! PEW PEW PEW PEW!!!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!!

5. And because I'm not totally selfish and would also like something that our entire massive family can enjoy, I'd love to get a Wii system and a bunch of fun games. I'm generous like that.

I already own both Raymond's Ravin' Rabbids Wii games, and I love them. But I can't play them. This makes me sad.

What I Need and Should Probably Get Instead

1. Four new tires for my Saturn Vue. The current ones are almost entirely bald and squeal like I'm a crazy maniac driver every time I take a corner, even if I'm going about five miles an hour. And Michigan winters are a bitch, yo, and these tires will NOT handle things. I should probably get these before Christmas, actually. Sigh.

They may be black and sleek in their own way, but they just aren't the same as those boots. SIGH.

2. Also for my poor overworked Vue, a rear wheel hub assembly. It's only the fourth one needing replacement in the last few months. It's bizarre: that car is awesome and reliable, but apparently at around 130,000 miles all the wheel bearings start screaming. And, um, I mean that pretty literally. They're LOUD, people.

Oooh, shiny. Still not exciting, though.

3. And because that's not enough, I should get those brakes replaced soonish too. Geez, you'd think I was working as a chauffeur these days. Oh wait. I AM.

Why do all the repairs happen all at once? Thank God MTL can do a lot of that car stuff. Makes him handy to have around.

4. Oh, and speaking of those cold Michigan winters? It would be pretty awesome to have an electric blanket. Not exactly exciting, but awesome.

Now with extra snuggles.

5. Finally, even though MTL and I have a walk-in closet, I don't exactly have room for all my Stuff. Especially the stuff that doesn't hang up. Like socks. And underwear. You know, things like that. I have exactly one drawer in MTL's dresser that is mine. And while I totally <3 MTL for giving me a drawer (of his own free will, mind you, and without my badgering or even hinting), it's not quite enough. This is why I need a dresser. Preferably one of those long low ones, because then I can also put things like my jewelry chest(s) and Other Girly Things on top instead of on the floor/bathroom counter/random surfaces as I have to now.

Like this, only cheaper, because I'm pretty sure it's an antique. Which mostly is just another word for "It's been sitting around here for a few generations and it isn't completely broken."

Sigh.

Sometimes being a low-maintenance, practical, responsible adult Sucks the Big One.

And to think: for the sake of brevity, I'm not including all the piddly stuff I gaze at wistfully, like dozens of books and CDs and movies and that really cool necklace I saw at Aldo's the other day and things like that.

I'm not really all that materialistic. Really. But a girl can dream.

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*From The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams. If you don't get this joke, I'm deeply disappointed in you. Also, you need to go read the first three books. NOW. Forget about the last two in the series. He only wrote them because he was pressured into it and you can tell.
**From The Princess Bride--both book and movie. Again, ditto above if you don't get it.
*** STAR TREK, people. /facepalm
****From The Big Bang Theory, which is currently just about the only half-hour TV sitcom worth watching. LOVE IT.

These Are The Reasons I Love My Job

I love working with these kids. It's craziness sometimes, but that's half the fun. Scratch that: it's most of the fun.

Today each of my sophomore classes brought laughter and spur of the moment crazy creative learning moments. You wanna hear about them? Yes? I thought so.

First, I had my fourth hour class write words on my dry erase boards next to my silly stick figures awesome artistic portrayals of the three main characters from The Scarlet Letter--Dimmesdale, Chillingworth, and Hester Prynne. After much laughter over the art, they went at it with gusto. The markers were squeaking like a horde of voracious mice.

And then I saw what they'd written.

Spell Check is their friend. *sigh*

So we learned some spelling for a little bit. But what had me in almost immediate stitches was one word written next to Chillingworth's figure. "INTELLIGOUS" proclaimed the board, in big green letters.

I mean...really?????

This is where the impromptu vocabulary lesson came in. After the hilarity died down, I told the kids to pull out a scrap of paper and, without consulting with each other, each write down a definition for this new word. Then they shared them and we voted on the best ones. After weeding out the rather mean if not entirely mean-hearted ones targeted toward the (fortunately quite self-confident and very nice) young man who had apparently made the thinko in the first place, they had come up with several that were just awesome:

intelligous (in-tel'-i-jus) adj.  1 being or appearing to be fabricating intelligence by creating one's words, but inevitably failing miserably  2 describing a person who is not only intelligent but also a genius  3 smarticle or brainilicious  4 Sum1 who is lyk, SOOPER SMRT. That's a caps S-M-R-T, gyz  5  the nice way to tell someone that they really are stupid  6 (and my favorite) when you know English things goodly.

That last one got a spontaneous ovation from the class. My students? Are awesome.

We're making a class shirt. No, really.

Then in fifth hour, also a sophomore class (but a lesson behind because of our schedule this week), I had a sudden moment of brilliance. Let me see if I can retrace the rabbit trail of the conversation that led to this (class discussions can take interesting tangents): We were talking about the different characters and how they relate to each other in what had been going on, I know that. They've gotten to the middle of the book...Dang it. Can't remember where we went with it, but suddenly we ended up talking about FaceBook (no really, it related somehow) and I thought of this hilarious viral post (don't worry, I don't mean it has a virus, I just mean it was passed all over the internet through virtual word of mouth, which is called "going viral") and had an AH HA!!!! moment.

I get them once in a blue moon.

So I told my students they could opt for an enrichment assignment--meaning they didn't have to do it, but could get a grade if they did, and those who chose not to would be excused. It can help grades, but it's not extra credit. Make sense? They could make their own versions of FaceBook Walls for each of the main characters (up to three) with status updates, comments, likes, and so on. The FB Walls would have to be accurate to the characters and the interactions between characters in the book. If they could make their project actually look like FaceBook, awesome, but it's not a requirement.

I have kids who are ramped up like you would not believe. And here's the sneaky part: they'll really have to know the book and the characters to pull this off, including the subtleties and the relationships and all the symbolism laced throughout that novel!

I love getting kids to think critically--and outside the box.

Of course, I also then had to calm down the one kid who wanted to create YouTube videos Scarlet Letter/Puritan style (you know, if they had YouTube back then sort of thing?) I haven't allowed video projects since my third year of teaching when my craziest student of all time thought it would be a good idea to light himself on fire for a video project "based" (and I use this term as loosely as possible, in this case) on the book Fahrenheit 451.

Yeah, no.

I love working with these kids. I love relating to them personally and intellectually. I love seeing them grow over time. I love running into them for years, or years later. I love feeling like I've had an impact on people through my job. All of these are reasons I love teaching.

These lessons aren't the sort of thing that will ever show up directly on any standardized test. But I'll tell you this: my students are learning about words and grammar and literature and critical thinking in a way that will stay with them. They're getting excited about the class--excited about learning. And that's the sweetest reason of all.

Woohoo!!!! Cue Happy Dances And Cooing Noises!

I am officially a TeacherAuntie!!!!! My nephew arrived very punctually and in an organized fashion this morning, on his due date. No artificial persuasion required! He even waited until an hour and a half after midnight to start the process--and until the day after his parents had gotten everything set and the house cleaned!

Very much like his father already, that one.

And in a few weeks they'll move to Canada, thus being, ironically enough, only three and a half hours away instead of fifteen.

So we can go SEE HIM.

*happy baby-induced sigh*

(Also: WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP POSTING BLOG POSTS? I HAVE NO TIME TO READ. NO TIME, I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!)

(Argh.)

One More Girl And It's The Brady Bunch

DraftQueen says I'm crazy and yeah, I probably am a bit (okay fine, more than a bit, but I OWN my crazy, peoples), but here's the thing: I'm kinda enjoying this multiple kids thing. You know, as in five all told.

Oh, didn't I mention? MTL has three kids. We finally agreed on appropriate blog names for them this last week. First there's The Dark One, his daughter who turns fourteen on Sunday. She's snarky and sarcastic and a touch emo and we get along quite well. Who woulda thunk, right? Then there's The Padawan, his almost-twelve son who is being trained in The Way of the Geek. He shows great promise. Finally there's KlutzGirl, who is seven and, well, an adorable klutz. The Padawan is delighted to have boys around, and DramaBoy and The Widget already treat him like a big brother, wrestling and teasing and emulating included. KlutzGirl already calls them her "almost brothers" and bosses them unmercifully. The Dark One tends to hold herself somewhat aloof, but thaws enough to play along when all seven of us get going in a rousing toy light saber battle.

(Yeah. We're the Dorks. Meet the Dorklings.)

Anywho, it turns out that I rather enjoy having five kids around. Well, other than the times when the whining and fighting escalates and mostly I just want to go huddle in a closet with a bottle or three of Raspberry Mike's Hard Lemonade. But really, it turns out that having older kids to help out makes things much easier, and this summer has been rather fun with visits to parks and shopping trips and whatnot. The logistics can be a bit tricky, since I don't have a vehicle large enough for them all, but we're making it work.

And it's the comments I get in public that have me giggling. Today I had KlutzGirl, DramaBoy, and The Widget with me grocery shopping for our holiday weekend camping trip (I told you we'd be braving it again). They were being active and cute and fairly well-behaved, and therefore we received many smiles and comments on how cute they are.

You have your hands full! said a few people.

And there are two older ones at home, I would reply with a grin.

My favorite response was from one woman who then exclaimed, And you have such a lovely figure!

I had to confess the truth at that point.

You're brave to take it all on! she said.

It's worth it, I replied.

And it is.

It's Nine O'Clock On A Friday

It's 9:11 on a Friday night, and I'm sitting in bed catching up on blogs before drifting off to sleep in a bit.

I know. MY LIFE, IT IS A PARTY.

Seriously, I'm pretty happy to be where I am. This week has felt twice as long as it actually was due to a jam-packed schedule. MTL's been raising his eyebrows every time I whip out my agenda. There isn't much white space left. My scribbles have scribbles. I'm exhausted.

The end of the year, work-wise, is always jam-packed. This one, more so than many. I had the normal tasks such as writing, administering, and grading exams; finalizing grades; packing up the room; changing my voice mail; cleaning out both virtual and physical mailboxes; filing all the crazy paperwork that materializes in June; and checking out for the summer.  Then there were the usual functions: graduation, the end-of-year staff picnic, the end-of-year English Department party.

It was the goodbyes that got to me this year. I didn't fully realize until a few weeks before the end of the year just how many seniors I had connected with over the last few years. At graduation, the staff members create a little honor guard as the students exit the arena. This year, I had students piling up waiting for their turn to high-five, fist-bump, and/or hug me.

I even told two of My Boys that just ONCE, just for that moment, I was their Boi.

Brandon may have fist-pumped the air. I know he was telling everyone in range that I'd finally said it.

I said goodbye and good luck to a lot of special kids this year. I know my Facebook Friend count went way up that day. And if I wanted to, I could skip buying groceries on weekends for the next couple of months and just live off graduation party food.

This job comes with those farewells every year. I've gotten more used to them. The harder ones are when coworkers, friends with whom I interact and collaborate daily and monthly and yearly, say goodbye too.

Three of my closest coworker friends were on the bottom of the district seniority list. They all were laid off on Tuesday. I don't think it's sunk in for me yet: next year they will not be there. I lost my mentee C., and losing him is losing a friend, a wonderful collaborator, and a little brother all at once.

Okay, writing that made it a little more real. THIS SUCKS.

Then on Wednesday I went to a small retirement party for the first real friend I ever made at my school. He was a father figure, the first one to really get to know me, the person who told other coworkers I was worth getting to know. Every time I saw him, he had a hug and a smile and an encouraging word to give.

Dammit. I'm getting teary now.

Since then? I've been diving into sorting and purging and packing all the crap that piled up in the house over six years, because I'll be moving at the end of July.

I'll write more about that later. It is now 9:33 and I'm ready for bed.

What's awesome? I get to sleep in. For REAL.

'Night, all!

7 Quick Takes, Awards, and Blog Flogging (Oh My!)

If you've been reading here for a while, or if you are one of the few people who bother to peruse my sidebars, you know that I have a little award I give out at times for blog posts that strike me as particularly marvelous.

Truth be told, there are some bloggers who, if I didn't have some self-control, would get an award for pretty much every post they ever write. Top of the list would be Julia at Julia {here be hippogriffs} because OMG that woman can write. Another would be Mike at Cry It Out because ditto (only he's a man, obviously: stay with me, peoples). Perhaps I should just give them overall blog awards. I'll think about that.

However, there are certain posts that will hit me as being superlative, and so I'll give out my Top Marks award. I should note that I have by no means awarded every deserving post, partly because my sidebar would get really really really long (like it isn't already) and partly because sometimes it just slips my mind. I know. I suck.

I have handed out a few lately, and then never actually acknowledged doing so in a post, although the recipients did get notified and their blogs and winning posts are up on the sidebar as winners. Then this week I was given two awards for my own blog, and adding it all up, I realized I have seven awards about which to write.

And it's Friday.

So here is a special Awards edition of 7 Quick Takes AND Flog Yo Blog Friday. Let's all give ourselves a hand!!!

--1--

My first Top Marks Award goes to a personal essay by Mike Adamick at Cry It Out. Mike does a brilliant job of recording events in his life as a stay-at-home father to Emmaline in the beautiful city of San Francisco. In "Something So Good," he relates and comments on his conflicting experience being a Good Samaritan one day, and along the way reminds us that good deeds are rarely as purely good and pure as we would like to think.

--2--

My second award goes to a personal essay by Beck at Frog And Toad Are Still Friends. Her brilliant May 3rd post "The End of Love" is not what it may sound like from the title. She writes with her usual eloquence tempered with humor about the finish line of lasting love, the kind that endures the years and trials and hardships to hold strong even when one's body becomes weak. Her last line puts into words what I hold in my own heart: "It is the end of love, this finish line, that I want, decades and decades more, worn and perfected, a water-smooth rock, something final and lasting in whatever forever there is."

--3--

The third award was given the very next day to a former schoolmate of mine with whom I reconnected through Facebook. Josh is now a pastor in California, and his blog The Outpost-It contains his musings on life and faith. His post "Gone Jogging ~ 5/4/10" evoked memories of Africa for me and brilliantly connects the physical experience of jogging with "getting going" in life.

--4--

Next up is a humorous poem by Monica at And I'll Raise You 5. As the mother of five kids, Monica is far too familiar with the ongoing battle to climb Mount Washmore. I couldn't have been more delighted to read her parody of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's famous "Sonnet 43" in the form of her June 1st post "Sonnet to my F***ing Laundry"--especially since I was just about to teach Victorian poetry (including that very poem) to my juniors! Monica's poem inspired an assignment for my students: they are to write a parody of their own for that sonnet by Monday. THEY ARE SO HAPPY. Thank you, Monica!

--5--

And just this morning, right in time to make it onto this post, Betty Herbert at The 52 Seductions wrote a post called "Monogamy: A Manifesto" about why monogamy is right for her and her husband--a thoughtful, eloquent post that speaks to the deliberate, daily, hourly choice of monogamy; not because of biology or religious ideology, but because it is THEIR choice. She put into words what I have felt and why this is also my choice.

--6--

I mentioned that I myself received some awards this week. The first came from Monica at And I'll Raise You 5, who was a little put out that I managed to get my award to her (though not mentioned in a post here) before she had a chance to give me one for a post she particularly loved. She came through, however, and so I now have received this:

for my "If I Were..." post. Monica wrote beautifully about award-giving in her post "Award Love". Thank you, Monica!!!

--7--

Finally, this morning I discovered that the lovely Wanderlust also gave me an award. This is one that will no doubt make my poor grandmother shake her head yet again over the profanity-laced awards that I keep getting (*ahem*) but such is life. Besides, it's MEDUSA and that just rocks. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've been connected with that particular mythological creature before...Why yes! I have.

Go figure.

So be warned, peoples! I've been given the

Thank you, Wanderlust!!! You're my kind of blogger.

****************************

For more fabulous blogs (and perhaps even some awards), go check out the other blogs linked on Flog Yo Blog Friday at MummyTime. It's FUN!

5ive Things

I've been Tag-Teamed, apparently, as both Tim Riley at life of riles and DraftQueen at The Drafts Folder tagged me for a meme. A nice, simple meme involving answering five questions and then tagging five other bloggers. Easy peasy. Since I'm trying to get stacks and stacks of The Great Big Paper a.k.a. "The Bitch" (actual file name from one student's emailed final draft: "10 pages of HELL!!!.doc") graded and still have exams to create and Benchmark Assessments to administer and massive amounts of end-of-year paperwork/tasks/packing to accomplish, anything that makes life easier is more than welcome.

So thank you, Tim and DraftQueen!

I should note that because I'm obsessive like this and also have a sneaking suspicion that whoever originated this meme was on a "5 Things" kick, I've slightly altered two of these questions to keep with the "five" theme. I know. It's a little sad.

1. Where were you five years ago?

Physically? Right here in Oakland County, Michigan, teaching at the same school, though not all the same classes. I was pregnant with DramaBoy and heading into my last summer teaching summer school while simultaneously beginning my Masters program. Because I was crazy. Mentally? I was under the illusion that I was doing well while ignoring my constant low-level depression (PPD wasn't even a reality yet) and the ever-widening fractures in my marriage.

2. Where would you like to be five years from now?

Physically? Right here in Oakland County, Michigan, teaching at the same school, though not all the same classes. Unless I miraculously win millions in the lottery, in which case I will be on a sandy beach somewhere with a steady stream of umbrella-d drinks in my hand. Mentally? I'd like to be on even more solid ground, enjoying my career (or the beach and fruity drinks), parenting well, flourishing in my relationship with MTL, growing in my relationship with God, and overflowing with all the love in my life. Not necessarily in that order of importance.

3. What are five things on your To-Do List for today?

• Grade papers. Make some sort of inroad into the piles that are threatening me with Grievous Bodily Papercut if I don't do something about them.
• Prep the Victorian Poetry lesson for my juniors that I'm giving tomorrow. Come up with a way to keep them (the students, not the poems) from wanting to commit harikari. Though now that I think about it, the poems might want to do so after my students get through their whining and moaning and bitching.
• Prep the ACT English-style Benchmark Assessments I'm giving my sophomores on Friday. Avoid wanting to commit harikari over giving such tests in the first place.
• Track down more paper boxes (you know, the sturdy boxes with lids that hold reams of copier paper that are the BEST for packing?). Try to do so without having to engage in duels with coworkers who also lust after them.
• Relax with MTL. Despite being chronologically last on my list, it's actually kind of highest in importance. Despite the ongoing threat of exsanguination via paper avalanche.

4. What are five snacks you enjoy?

• toast with Nutella (or rather, the way I spread it, Nutella with toast)
• Godiva Dark Chocolate with Raspberry Filling bars (OBVIOUSLY)
• Doritos (but not Cool Ranch) (because they're gross)
• Cheetos (especially the Flaming kind) (hehehe--I said Flaming)
• apples with Cheddar or muenster cheese (Haven't tried it? DO IT. You won't regret it. Or if you do, you might want to have your taste buds checked. Loser.)

5. What are five things you would do if you were a billionaire?

Oh, I've played this game before. In order, I would (1) pay off every single one of my debts, (2) pay off every single debt owed by my loved ones, (3) create trust and college funds for my boys, (4) build my dream house, including a massive library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and sliding ladders and a big bay window and massive armchairs made for curling up and reading, and (5) go on a lengthy trip around the world with MTL.

There you go. Thrilling stuff, I know.

I'm tagging

Monica from And I'll Raise You 5 (but of course)
Lori from Random Ramblings of a Stay At Home Mom
PantsWithNames from Pants With Names
Katie from No Missed Opportunities
Arby from Boarding in Bedlam

Have fun!

In Which I Am Both Cheap and Shiny. Kind of Like Your Uncle Bob's Suit. You Know, the One He's Worn For Years? Yeah. It Just Means I'm Worth Keeping Around, Right? Right?!?!

MTL: It's like I won the lottery with you, except I didn't have to enter.

TM: Well, you did kind of spend thirty dollars for a ticket.*

MTL: True. Best thirty bucks I ever spent. Now that I think about it, the ticket was kind of expensive when the prize is so cheap.

--Silence--

MTL: Um. That didn't come out right.

TM: Would you like to clarify that one for me?

MTL: What I meant was, you see, that you're so low-maintenance.

TM: Ah. Okay. I won't hit you then.

He's lucky he's so dang cute. And that I get him and knew it was just a brain-mouth disconnect. Besides, he's pretty much right. I am low-maintenance. I like it that way. For that matter, most men I know like it that way. In real women, at least.

My hair? I wash it in the mornings with Pantene. I towel-dry it vigorously. Then I run a brush through it and go. No blow dryer, no product, no hair irons.

My clothes? Yeah, I like to look good, but I tend to keep things pretty simple. Nothing too overwrought or complicated to grab and go.

My morning routine? I've been known to get showered, get dressed, get the boylets dressed, grab our stuff, and be out the door in twenty-five minutes. That's under pressure, granted, but still.

So yeah, I'm low-maintenance.

However, I'm very rarely seen out of the house without some makeup on.

It's nothing much, mind you. Powder, blusher, eyeliner, mascara. Perhaps a little eyeshadow. I can whip it on in a few minutes. But I wear it every day.

We all have our insecurities about our appearance. We all have our security blankets. Mine happens to sit around in a little pink bag. See, I'm as critical about myself as the next person. I scowl at my brownie muffin tops. I suck in my squishy belly. I peer at my complexion in the mirror, sighing over the scars and lines and certain other aspects that I'm not going to admit to in writing. Then I pull out my makeup bag and brush on a subtle veneer.

So when Jodie over at Mummy Mayhem challenged bloggers to post their naked faces on their blogs, sans makeup, sans primping, sans anything but woman au naturel, I was more than a little nervous. But her argument about how critical we women are about our bodies was a good one, and her challenge to bloggers to link up along with her has received a wonderful response. And then the amazing Wanderlust joined in with her own post, and when I whined in a comment about not having a good camera, she sent me a lovely and encouraging and totally guilt-trippy email more or less commanding me to Do It Anyway and so...

Here's the picture I just took of myself after my nightly ablutions, squeaky clean face and all (I swear it's fuzzy because of the crappy cell phone camera, not from any retouching):

And as proof that sometimes this happens without planning, this photo is from about three months ago on a day when I overslept my alarm, didn't even have time to shower (thus the hat for hair control purposes), and got nowhere near my little pink bag:

I've exposed a good bit of my heart and mind and soul on this blog. I suppose it only makes sense for me to expose my face as well.

Do you hide behind that sexy camera angle or PhotoShop magic or whatnot on your blog? Then head over and take the challenge too. I dare ya.

--------------------------------------------
*That's a story for another time. It probably sounds worse than it is.** But that could just be my gutter brain working.

**which isn't bad, trust me on that one. Get your own brain out of the gutter! Arby, I'm looking at you.

There Are Things That Make Me Sad: These Are Not Some of Them*

What's been making TeacherMommy giggle this week? Glad you asked.

A "letter of appreciation" from a former student for Teacher Appreciation Week:

Dear Ms. TeacherMommy,

U made me learn how 2 right bettr. eye din't thenk u wood help me 2 right as good as eye do now!

U R

AWESUM!

Sincerely, Steve H. :)

------------

A letter from daycare I found sitting on the dining room table when I returned to the house last night, obviously left there via the ex for my enjoyment information:

Dear Mr. or Mrs. TeacherMommy,

Today DramaBoy did not choose good choice at naptime, so we are sitting down and talking about what he chose to do instead. DramaBoy has told me that at naptime we are supposed to be quiet and stay on our cots. DramaBoy told me instead he was playing around and not listening to the teacher. I have asked DramaBoy if tomorrow he will make better choices and listen to the teacher when she tells him to be quieter and he says he will try but might need me to sit by him, to which I agreed. If he makes good choices tomorrow at the end of naptime we will draw nice pictures and write a good letter.

Thank you,
Ms. D-------

(The kicker? DramaBoy wrote his name at the bottom too. IT'S HIS FIRST BEHAVIORAL CONTRACT, PEOPLES.)

------------

From the car on the way to school/work this morning:

DramaBoy: Mama, do you like Hannah Montana?

TeacherMommy: No, I don't really like Hannah Montana very much, baby.

DramaBoy: But why don't you like her? Girls LIKE Hannah Montana!

------------

Gems gleaned from going over rough drafts of the paper affectionately known as The Bitch:

Harriet Beecher Stowe aroused many people through her very famous and controversial book, Uncle Tom's Cabin.

This theme was completely utilized towards the end of Uncle Tom's Cabin when the beloved hero, Uncle Tom, is brutally beaten to death by a viscous slave driver.

Through Twain's life, his experiences and wisdom seldom come, molded the modern author into the sculpture he is today.

(I can't help but wonder--did the first of those have anything to do with the slave driver's stickiness in the second? I know. Ewwwww.)

------------

And the fourth thing that's made me giggle?

All the snarky, funny, wonderful comments and emails and texts and whatnot my friends and family have been sending. I big puffy heart you all.

-----------------------------------------
*Inspired by the song "Things" from my favorite children's CD (it's #19 on the songlist)

I Think It Should Be More Than One Week A Year, But At Least There's SOMETHING!

Photo courtesy of www.worldbuzznow.com

(See? I CITED MY SOURCE!)

Have you thanked a teacher today?

I mean, you don't necessarily have to walk up to some random teachers and thank them, because while they may be somewhat pleased, they'll also be very confused. This is because they'll be sure you must have been their student/parent of a student at some point and they've forgotten your face and name and holy crap what do they do now?!?!?!

So be nice. Thank a teacher you know. Or, more to the point, knows you.

As for me, my not-so-little brats are driving me crazy today because they apparently did NOT get the memo. I'm trying very hard to not commit a felony stay professional.

WARNING: RANT POST MAY BE FORTHCOMING unless those kids who didn't show up for the presentation THEY SIGNED UP FOR were in the hospital and have the doctor's note to prove it, because they are DEAD MEAT otherwise, let me tell you grumblemumblegrumblegrrrrrrrrr......

Cheers!!!

First of Something

Oh DraftQueen my DraftQueen. Thank you for giving me something to post, because dude, I gots nothing. I have this former student who promised me a written account of a highly entertaining dream he had in which I was a star player (and, um, no, not in THAT way, you dirty-minded people you. SHAME.), but the pesky business of doing Top Secret Stuff on computers over in Iraq got in the way, so I'm having to come up with my own blog fodder.

Oy.

But you, my darling, have tagged me. I'm It. Apparently I am to repost my first ever blog post and then tag some others to do the same. I'm sure, if I tried hard enough, I could tie this meme in to the fact that today is International Worker's Day as well as Beltene, but today is Saturday and I don't have a maypole handy, so I'll just be lazy and post the damn post already. You're welcome.

As a relatively new addict to the world of mommyblogs, I have had my concepts of blogging seriously challenged. My exposure to blogs was limited to the travesties of MySpace and the more personal ones of a few friends and family members--you know, the kinds that really only their friends and family are meant to see and enjoy? But a short while ago, on a day when I really had MANY other things I needed to do but really didn't feel like doing, I followed a series of links that led me to, of all things, a MommyBlog. (I won't say which at the moment, as I do believe in asking permission before linking and don't have the courage to go ask this High Lady of Humor for permission to link to my sorry little starter blog.) This Mommy was Funny. And Smart. And Funny some more.

As I became addicted to her blog and then (perhaps unwisely for the sake of the stack of papers that is teetering precariously on the corner of my desk) to several others that she herself linked, I realized that (1) blogging mommies Rock, (2) the ones worth reading have actually improved their writing skills through blogging, and (3) apparently blogging can satisfy something in women who are mommies but like to think too.

Now you have to understand that I am the type of person who writes really well when it comes to academic sorts of things, and I know it. However, that confidence falls short when it comes to the Personal. I am much like Adrian Plass, Aged 37 3/4, who starts a diary with the entry:

Feel led to keep a diary. A sort of spiritual log for the benefit of others in the future. Each new divine insight and experience will shine like a beacon in the darkness!

Can’t think of anything to put in today.

This is Me. I have started a half dozen diaries (or, rather, "Journals," very much in the tradition of Great Contributers to Literature) with the rather pompous and idealistic vision of sharing Great Thoughts with Humankind. I buy the pretty ones, the appealing ones, the Journals with lovely clean pages just aching to be written upon with a proper pen (I feel strongly in this matter, as does Anne Shirley, that only the right pen* will do). They generally lasted for a scattering of entries, and then they lay forgotten and dusty on various shelves. I find them later, mourn over another waste of money, laugh at myself and those silly entries, and then try to find something more useful to do with all that lovely paper. Such as jot down important notes about items to find and gems to get cut and quests to fulfill in another addiction of mine, World of Warcraft. But that's another post.

Similarly, the only blogging I have ever done was one exasperated post (about the frustrations of dealing with hormonal teenagers, as I recall) on the otherwise silent MySpace account I created solely to be able to read my sister's blogs. She doesn't blog there anymore, so that account lies quiet and dusty, but definitely unmourned, on some shelf the Webgods have tucked away in a back corner.

We shall see if this blog goes that way. I hope not. Mainly I need to remind myself that the best MommyBloggers are those who edit themselves and yet remain true to themselves. That way they avoid the pomposity and short-lived interest in what they write. From what I have read, at any rate.

So, here begins my account of life with Diapers and Dragons.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
* So do you find it curious, as do I, that upon reading over this entry I realized I had initially written "write pen" rather than "right pen"? A slip of the pen, or keys, or whatever, but amusingly apt.

I'm struck by the irony in one of those last lines I wrote: "...the best MommyBloggers are those who edit themselves and yet remain true to themselves." If you've been following my journey at all, you know that I was frantically lying to myself for years, and the first few months of my blog were the last few months I spent doing that. Go back and read last post of 2008 and then read through my journey of 2009...Good Lord. I feel like I'm looking back at the words of a completely different person.

And thank God, I'm not her any longer. 

So where were you and how far have you come since you first started blogging? I'm tagging MomZombie at MomZombie, Monica at And I'll Raise You Five, Arby at Boarding in Bedlam, and Nicola at Some Mothers Do Ave Em. Happy First of May!

I Didn't Anticipate This When I Chose My Nom de Plume

7 Quick Takes Friday

--1--

Today did not start well. The boylets have gotten into the habit of staying up far too late regardless of when I put them to bed, and last night was no exception. I sleep downstairs on the couch, too far away to monitor all that happens up there after lights out, and I discovered this morning that The Widget had committed the No-No (NO NO NO!!!!) of playing with my makeup. An eyeshadow container displayed mini-finger-sized gouges, which also explained the interesting brown war-paint that decorated his sleeping face. I suppose I should be happy it was makeup and not, well, Other Brown Stuff.

So we began the day with whining and complaining and Consequences. I was all set for the day to be a Horrible, Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

Then I got my Good Morning text from MTL.

The Widget wore Big Boy Underwear to school today, because he has finally turned the corner with potty training.

The boylets stopped whining and gave me kisses instead.

The Color Guard Booster Parents coffee stand had cherry-flavored coffee this morning.

And I started counting my blessings.

--2--

One of my students who had Messed Up begged me for mercy over email the other day. He showed up with donuts and coffee for me this morning. My students seem to have figured out my weaknesses. They are:

• Bavarian Creme or Boston Creme donuts
• Brownies, especially thick gooey fudgy ones like another contrite student brought me yesterday which were the Best Brownies Ever. I had to scoop them into my mouth WITH A SPOON. And with every bite, I giggled. No, really. And then I took the rest to MTL and he nearly wept with every bite. That student gets an A+, he informed me. For everything. Especially if he makes them again.
• Godiva dark chocolate bars with raspberry filling
• Dark chocolate anything, really
• Especially paired with raspberry, for that matter
• Food, now that I think about it

--3--

My waistline is becoming an issue, what with all the Tribute and Mercy Offerings and the lack of exercise due to OMG MY BACK AND HIPS OMG.

My physical therapist said yesterday would be our last session until fall, when hopefully some of my OMG STRESS OMG will fade and he can focus more on my neck and upper back issues. In the meantime, I am carrying on with the alignment exercises and strengthening exercises and the strange things I do with a long white noodle and a small yellow ball. Don't ask.

I asked what kind of exercise I am allowed to do that would address my waistline and brownie muffin-tops. He said nothing weight-bearing or high-impact (so no Zumba, *sob*). Ideally, I should do twenty minutes on a stationary bicycle three times a week, achieving an aerobic heart rate level of 120-130 bpm.

This would be lovely, except I do not have a stationary bike and am a bit hesitant to fork over cash for membership at a fitness center, what with OMG NO MONEY OMG and only using one machine for an hour a week. I suppose I could exercise here at school, but that would involve finding space and time in the weight room, as well as puffing and swearing sweating away in front of students. Oy. Must think on this.

But at least I have options and my hips and back are so very much better and I cannot recommend my physical therapist highly enough because he is a miracle worker.

--4--

Not all students clog cheer up my heart with chocolate alone. Yesterday a young lady came in the room with her mother.  I had her two years ago as a sophomore, and she has visited me frequently since then. She came yesterday, however, to say Goodbye. For various personal reasons, she had decided to withdraw from school, get her GED instead, and pursue college after that. But she came to find me first.

I wanted to tell you, she said, that I'll miss you and you were the most influential teacher I've ever had.

Later one of the co-principals told me she had mentioned my name in her exit interview and said I was one of the only people who had made her academic experience a positive one.

I can't win every student's heart, and that's not the reason I'm here, but hearing these things from time to time is what makes this career worth all the stress and exasperation and downright pain.

--5-- 

My classroom has scattered memorabilia from current and former students all over the walls and boards. Bizarre cartoons, surrealistic sketches and paintings and drawings, amusing or stunning posters and projects, senior pictures, little notes of affection and/or snark. This morning a student whose schedule change required her to switch to a different English teacher at the semester break came to visit before her next class. She left behind a markered note on my board: Kaylee <3s you!

I like Ms. P, she said, but I miss your class so much. I wish I hadn't had to switch out!

She had nearly failed my class first semester. Oddly enough, quite frequently it's the students who fail or came very close to it who come back and say they miss me the most. I was always an academic high achiever: I cannot help but wonder why I connect so strongly with students who struggle in the classroom setting.

It certainly isn't because I coddle them. I'm more likely to give them a verbal kick in the ass for not living up to their potential. I believe in Tough Love. Success only matters if you earn it.

--6--

I've never considered myself a maternal sort of teacher. At least, not in the gentle, cuddly, sweet sort of way. Not that I'm a soulless sort. I'm fairly decent at adjusting my approach to individual students as appropriate, and I've had my share of sessions comforting a distraught student in the hall. Nevertheless, I'm more likely to kick them in the ass (metaphorically speaking) than not.

So I was caught off guard this year when a close-to-my-heart former student told me he sees me as his mom, certainly more so than his biological mother (let's just say they have a difficult relationship). And then when I had a good half-dozen or so current students tell me I sound like their mothers. And then I realized that a good number of the comments I leave on former (as in graduated) students' Facebook Walls have a rather mothering tone to them.

In a snarky, raised-eyebrow, slap-upside-the-head sort of way.

I mean, I'm barely old enough to be the biological mother to my (younger) current students, and even then I would have had to be a teen mother! Somehow, without meaning to, I've crossed some invisible border into Mom territory. Although definitely more on the Roseanne (but with WAY more class) (I hope) (please God) side of the mothering spectrum than the June Cleaver one.

I'm not sure what to think about that. I'm still figuring out how to be Mom to my biological kids without adding a few hundred more to the list.

--7--

Those kids and those relationships, however, are the real reason I do what I do. It's the main reason I've stayed in the high school arena rather than moving up to the college level, as was my original plan when I started this career. I would miss the kind of interaction I can have with high school students.

There are perks to maintaining those connections, too. Tonight I will attend a play at Wayne State University in which a former student is performing, and I'm going for free. She gave me a comp ticket out of gratitude for a small favor I did for her. MTL is going along, and we'll go out for coffee with my gorgeous, talented former student afterward. And who will be watching my kidlets while I do this, you ask? Yet another former student. One of the four or five former students who babysit for me. At a marvelously reduced rate, I should note, and occasionally with my offer of payment refused.

Because they love me.

I may never have a building named after me or a statue erected in my honor or be a household name. But when I look at my life and what I do and why I do it...

I have not wasted my time.

Today is a good day.

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As a two-for-one, today is also Flog Yo Blog Friday over on MummyTime. Join in the awesome!