5 Things about 5th Grade

Today started out as a normal day. I went to my school, thinking I would make a few copies, plan a few lessons, chat with my teacher friends, and then leave to do other things.

But that's not what happened, because the secretary came to my teacher prep room, where I was prepping.

"Heather," she said, then paused.

And beamed at me.

"Heather," she said again. "How are you?" she asked. There was more beaming.

I started to feel a little worried. I beamed back at her and said "Good, how are you?" 

"I'm good," she said. "How do you feel....about.....being an emergency sub in 5th grade for the rest of the day?"

Here's how I felt about it:

But here's what I did on the outside:

And that's how I ended up in the 5th grade portable, surrounded by a bunch of kids as old as my baby sister and as tall as me. From this experience, I have gained 5 pieces of wisdom I would like to impart:

1. 5th graders can't tell that they are as tall as (or taller than) you when you are sitting down behind a desk. Well actually, maybe they can. But no one said anything about it. So maybe they can't.

2. The new trend right now is zip-up hoodies that zip in the front and can zip all the way up onto the hood, so that when someone zips all those zippers together, they look something like this:

These things are all the rage. Trust me, you'll be cool if you have one.

3. 5th graders love cutting their own hair. They greatly prefer doing that to working on Language Arts, which is what everyone else in the class is doing.

4. There are some words that 5th graders think are funny in any and every context. Today when they were reading and finding words that they were unfamiliar with, this conversation happened:

Boy #1: Dude. Look what word I found.
[The word he's pointing at is "naked."As in "the naked blade."]
Boy #2: What is that word? *Guffaw* Oh, na-a-a-a-ked.
Boy #1: *Snicker* I'm writing it down.
Boy #2: Wait, what page is that on? Ha. Ha. (in a really high voice) Naked!

5. I used to think that teaching in a portable would be a little bit like teaching in Hell. I had this idea in my head that it would be all creaky sounding and the wind would come whistling through holes in the walls, and the desks would slide to one end of the room every time a particularly strong gust of wind came along. It is actually kind of like teaching in your own little island paradise. No one wants to walk outside, so they just ignore you and stay in their cozy offices inside. Little do they know that it is actually like 89* in the portable, and you can adjust that as you wish. It's not so bad :


Good luck to any real live fifth grade teachers! I was okay for one day, but I might hate it if I did it err day. 

I-I-I-I Work Out

Sometimes, your boyfriend really wants you to work out with him. And while you might think that this is working out,

the boyfriend might not agree. Which is unfortunate, because his version of working out might be a 45-minute military training thing that he invented that includes push-ups, planks, jumping jacks, crunches, squats, arm circles for AN HOUR.....and sundry other things.

Working out so hardcore is actually kind of fun if you are motivated by your goal to get Venus dimples by the time you go back on-track. But no matter how fun it is, it can also be extremely tiring.

Which is why, sometimes, your roommate ends up taking this picture:

and sending it to you the next day.

After all, who doesn't love a good post-workout nap on the perfectly clean carpet of their 6-girl college apartment?

Life Lessons** Learned Snowboarding*

*And by "snowboarding" I mean hike-boarding.

**And by "Life Lessons" I mean musings that may not be true in every case, but are true in my experience.

Anyway, that's what I was doing this past Saturday: hike-boarding and musing. And here are the conclusions I came to that I would like to share with you:

1. Snowboarding is an activity which requires intense planning. If you were planning to go at 8:00 a.m., you might find yourself leaving Provo at 11:00 a.m. And if you are planning on going with someone who doesn't want to leave at 8:00 a.m. like you do, because that is too butt-early, you can definitely plan on leaving at 11:00 a.m. like she wants to.

2. The best way to get excited about snowboarding, when you are feeling apprehensive, is to borrow your roommate's blue snowboard and your other roommate's blue coat. That way you will match and you will want to take pictures to document it.

3. Sometimes, girls who were not even terrible at snowboarding the one time they went 4 years ago are horrifyingly awful at hike-boarding. It's a whole different beast, kids.

4. And when I say "horrifyingly awful," I mean that sometimes, those girls will face-plant within 10 seconds of the first attempt down the mountain.

5. You might be tempted, when this happens, to laugh at her and say "Hey, Santa Claus!" because she is sitting there with her board in the air and her face all covered in snow and so it would seem appropriate to say such a thing.

6. But it might not be as appropriate as you think.

7. Sometimes, "You're a hard worker and maybe someday you'll be good at snowboarding" is as good of a pep talk as you are going to get.

8.  Sometimes, boys who are really bad at teaching snowboarding and giving encouraging pep talks are really good at other things, so it's whatever.

9. When you're all the way down the mountain and someone else is all the way at the top, you might think that that is a perfect opportunity for you to pee. But no matter what you think, you're not being all that sneaky. 

9b. On that same note, you might think that the snow you are sitting on has never been touched by another creature, never spoiled by human or animal. But you could be wrong, because your snowboarding instructor might have peed on in just a week earlier in an effort to pack down the powder into a useable jump. And his roommate might have peed on it too. Which is why you shouldn't eat snow, no matter how safe you might think it is.

10. You shouldn't pick a snowball fight with someone who is stronger and faster and more experienced in the snow than you are. Because you will lose.

11. Even if you are about as close to being Shaun White as salsa is to being a flying tomato, snowboarding can be great fun. And you might be really glad you went.

My Two Boyfriends

Every week, we have 5 word wall words. This week's words are didn't, too, two, they're, and have.

"Who can use this word in a sentence?" I asked, pointing to "two."

The answers included, but were not limited to:

"I have two sisters."

"I have two dogs."

"My sister is two years old."

"It is two o'clock."

"Miss Connor has two boyfriends."

I decided it was time to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.

"I do not have two boyfriends!" I said. My class insisted that I do and brought up the names of two boys that I mayyy have mentioned in class. I clarified that neither of those boys were my boyfriend, which my class did not like.

"You need one, Miss Connor," they huffed, and then everyone started calling out which of the two boys they preferred.

"Why do you want me to have a boyfriend?" I asked. "How would that be good for you?"

"Because," they replied. "Then he could come and be our substitute, if you were gone."

And thus the truth came out. They don't really care if I have a boyfriend. They just care if they have a good substitute.

"What if I had a boyfriend and he came and was your substitute, and he was grouchy? Or not that fun?" I asked.

"Oh, then we'd tell you," they assured me, "so you can get rid of him. So you can say, peace out, mister!"

When you think about it, the 2nd grade litmus test of character might actually be very helpful. 

An Attainable Boyfriend

In class today, we talked about making SMART goals: goals that are Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, and Time-bound. When we were talking about attainable goals, I had my students think of one goal that was attainable and one that was not. Then I called on a few students who shared one of their goals and we showed (with thumbs up or down) whether that goal was attainable or not. Here were some of their responses:

"Breaking the sun in one second!" (Unattainable)

"Reading 200 books that are 20 pages each in one month!" (Mixed reviews)

"Do a front flip on a snowboard!" (Attainable for some of my students, but not others)


"My sister made a goal to make out - I mean, uh, sorry. Not make - anyway. She made a goal that she was going to get a boyfriend and then she was going to make a cloth out of all of her clothes for him. But then she didn't get a boyfriend so she could do it. So I guess her goal was unattainable?" (I was confused by this one. I don't even think we voted, I just kind of said "Uhhhh, haha, that's funny...." and then moved on.)


"Ride a mile on my bike!" (Attainable)

"Break the moon in ten seconds!" (Unattainable)

"Get Miss Connor a boyfriend!"

"Now hold on," I said. "We're not making goals for me, we're making goals for you. These are goals that YOU are going to work on, not that someone else is going to work on."

"Yeah but Miss Connor!" my students protested. "I am going to work on it! We can work on that!"

"How are you going to work on it?" I asked, a little afraid.

"Set you up on blind dates, tell you if a boy is a good one, or like, if you shouldn't have one be your boyfriend, find a boy you will like and bring him to class one day...." The ideas just kept coming.

"Okay," I said, trying to get back to the lesson. "Fine. Is this an attainable goal? Show me with your thumb what you think."

The thumbs shot up. Well....most of them did. Thanks, cuties.

My class is a little one-track-minded, I think.

But at least they are looking out for me, right?

Picture a Christmas

Once upon a time, I flew home for Christmas. Just like I do err year. I was greeted at the airport by my cute (suddenly giant) family.

And then, I gained 30 pounds.

And Jacob grew 30 inches.

And we all froze to death.

And so did Sarah's American Girl doll magazines. We found them in the freezer.

Then, I made some really fantastic potato soup. It was so fantastic, I cried a little about it.  (Although that could have also been the onions that I cut....)

"Julie. I am so happy to share with you, because you shared with me. ......Nicole lied." - Nicole

"What do I know? I'm just a fat old man with jowels." - a very self-pitying Dad

*everyone listening to "I want you to rock me" by One Direction, when Dad comes and turns it off*
Jo: Dad! We were listening to that!
Dad: I've been rocked enough!

"He has nose hairs?? How does the man survive!" - Dad

This year is looking like it's going to be pretty good already :) We miss you, Delly!

Blogworthy, Nonetheless

I haven't blogged a whole lot this month. But here are some things that have happened that have been blogworthy even if they haven't gotten their own entry:

- I got power nails! I got them for my parent-teacher conferences, and I got a free appetizer and a discount at Chili's on girls' night, and then I didn't have any bad parent teacher conferences, so I guess they did their job.

- And speaking of that free food at Chili's and parent teacher conferences, I would also just like to announce that my PTA fed us dinner both nights of conferences. And you know that made it all worth it to me. 

- McKen Doll and I went to our ward's FHE for the sole purpose of feeding ourselves, because we heard there would be pizza there. There was, and for some reason, it was the best pizza I have ever inhaled. (Because that's absolutely what I did with it.) At first I got two slices, because I was thinking I would eat one and save the other one for my lunch the next day. But then I accidentally ate both of them.


- And then Kenna and I accidentally each took two more slices on our way out the door.

- There was also that one time when I was so exhausted when I got home, so I was taking a nap, and then my roommate woke me up to tell me that there was free Zupa's at the clubhouse (?!?!?!) so I zombied my way over to the clubhouse and helped myself.

- I got some presents for the ladies I teach with. As a true daughter of my mother, I gave them all nail polish and toe separators with a tag that said "You have "nailed" teaching! It's great to work with you. Thanks for helping me "polish" my teaching!"


- One of the nail polishes was a really great color. So I accidentally painted my nails with it.


- And then the next day at school, I accidentally improved on my manicure by putting glitter on some of my nails. While I was at school. And while my kids were also at school with me.

- Then this boy saw my nails and, remembering when I had power nails the time before, said "That's so much power in your nails!"


- There was that one day (yesterday) when my desk looked like this:

And that was justttt fine.

- We had our Christmas party in class, and the room moms who put it all together threw away all the leftover frosting. I'm talking like, 5 containers that were still halfway full. So I pulled them out of the trashcan and then this conversation happened:


Student: Miss Connor, what are you doing?
Me: Hmmm? Oh I'm.....there are box tops of these.
S: Oh! We need to cut those off!
Me: Yeah! Can I borrow your scissors?


After I had cut them all off....


Student: Now you're going to throw them back away?
Me: What? These don't go in the trash.
S: Oh....I thought they were thrown away.
Me: Oh, no! Look how much is left. There's still a ton.


And you better believe I am keeping those.

- Also can I just say that the room moms in charge brought in sugar cookies and root beer floats for the snack after we were done making the gingerbread houses. I was so nervous, you guys. I just thought, "There is no way that my children are going to listen to a word I say for the rest of the day." But I was wrong! They did. I just love my kids so much. They are the nicest little class and I never want them to go to 3rd grade.

- I got an email from my principal. She informed me (and the rest of the teachers) that there are some mice in our school. In the first grade hallway, to be exact. I was pretty on edge after I heard that....and this poster in the front office only made me feel a little bit better:

- I went to my ward's talent show. It was.....something else. I mean wow.

- My school does something called "Battle of the Books" every year," where you read about 5 books and then you have the chance to sit on stage and do sort of a game show thing with buzzers and questions about the books. Anyway, to kick it off, they had 5 teachers participate and show how it's done. The announcer lady said: "Okay! So whoever wins is going to be crowned the queen of the book challenge! And she will receive a crown and a cake!"

My head snapped up. "What??" I whispered to my intern friend. "The winner gets a cake? I didn't know that! I might have participated if I had known I could get a cake!" She kind of just gave me a weird smile and we went back to watching the battle.


In the end, I watched with envy as they placed the crown on Melissa's head....then with confusion as they draped the cape around her shoulders. No one came forward with a cake. At this point it occurred to me that maybe, the winner gets a crown and a CAPE, and maybe I might have to work on my listening skills.


- The North Pole wrote a letter to my class.

I told my kids that if they were super-duper good, we could probably help Santa out. Sorry if you think this was a little manipulative of me....but it worked pretty well :)

- I lost my voice. Teaching is greattt when you have no voice. This conversation happened:

Student: Miss Connor! One time, I lost my voice.
Me: Oh yeah? Where did it go?
S: I think my stomach? Actually no. It went on vacation.
Me: Well how long was it on vacation for?
S: Like, a week.
Me: A week!? I can't wait a week for my voice to come back!
S: Maybe it will come back sooner. Like, maybe your voice can't afford as nice as of a vacation as my voice did.


- After I lost my voice, I went to this Christmas singalong thing that Larry H. Miller does every year up in Salt Lake. It was sooo cool! I just felt a little depressed that I couldn't sing along.

- That depression was alleviated because someone handed me a donut right when I walked in.

- I got lost on my way home from Walmart.

- Then, the next day, I got lost on my way home from the payroll office. Where I happened to be because apparently I never got paid in September! So I had to go and pick up my check. You know that's a merry Christmas. 


- The Jew came to town for a day! She helped out in my classroom all day. My class loves Miss Julie, and thankfully, she doesn't try to distract them....unlike SOME people who visit! You know who you are. (Not you, Aunt Carol. It's not you either, Mom.)



I think we're all caught up now....now that I'm already back in Maryland. Maryland, my merry land. It's good to be home :)

Teacher's Pet

A blonde walks into Walmart and straight back to the pet section. She examines the bettas, plucks a little red one off the shelf, and takes it up to the cashier.

"How much for this betta?" she asks, and then swipes her card without listening to the price, since the school will be reimbursing her for the fish anyway. The blonde leaves the store, fish in hand, and gets back in her car.


Does this sound like the start of a dumb blonde joke? It's not. It's the start of a very serious life-and-death drama, and it is a true story.


Here's a shocking confession: I am the blonde in this story. The red betta is my class pet, the honorable Brad Rudolph. The cashier will remain anonymous.

Wednesday: I took Brad Rudolph - BR, for short - from Walmart. I placed him securely in Cassidy Jane Carbaby. I brought him to my apartment.

Thursday morning: I brought him to school and slid him into his new home: a beautiful glass fishbowl perched on the windowsill, where he could watch all the kids play at recess. When my kids came in and noticed him, they loved him immediately.

Thursday afternoon: We named him. Aka, they named him.

Friday morning: We wrote letters to Brad Rudolph.

Friday afternoon: I thought to myself: won't BR need to eat over the weekend? I put Brad Rudolph in the little container I had bought him in and got him settled back in Cassidy Jane Carbaby. We got back to my apartment. I poured him into a bigger tupperware container, so he could have some wiggle room.


Saturday: uneventful.


Sunday: uneventful.


Monday morning: Disaster struck. I couldn't find BR's traveling case. I poked holes in a water bottle lid and pretended like that would be okay. I went over to the sink and tried pouring BR into the water bottle. Before I knew it, I had lost 96% of the water down the drain, and BR was still swimming frantically around in the inch of water left in the tupperware container.

I panicked. I tried to facilitate a gentle transfer by setting the water bottle in the container so BR could just swim right in, but that just made all these weird air bubbles rush out of the water bottle and into the water in the tupperware container, and that just made BR thrash around like a sad little piece of red seaweed.


Which was just as terrifying as it sounds! I'm not sure what happened next, but somehow I ended up trying to pick up BR with my bare hands from off of a dirty plate in the sink, and there was no water in the tupperware container, and there was barely a centimeter of water in the water bottle, and when I eventually managed to grab him and drop him in the water bottle, I remembered that he needed water, so I turned on the faucet for about half a second before I remembered that betta fish need special water that has water conditioner drops in it, and tap water will kill them....


So then I snapped off the tap water, appalled at myself, ran over to the shelves where Shannon has her betta fishes, and brought one of them over to the sink. That fish kindly shared some of his water with BR's water bottle. Then the other fish shared some of his water with BR, too.


I felt so bad the entire ride to school. I just kept checking my water bottle to see how poor little BR was holding up.

He seemed a little shaken, but he wasn't dead.  Just to be extra-careful, though, I didn't even turn on the radio the whole way there. I don't want my fish to be deaf any more than I want him to be dead!



At last we got to school and I was able to pour him back into his bowl.

Home, sweet home.

I tell my kids a lot; some might even say that I tell them too much. But you better believe that this is one story I did not share with them.

Thanksgiving Leprechauns

Every Friday, I have my class copy down a poem, to work on their handwriting. Last week, we had to do our poem on Wednesday, since we weren't in school on Thursday or Friday. As you might have been able to guess, the poem was about Thanksgiving. Here it is:

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving is a special day 

To celebrate each year

We gather with our closest friends

Who come from far and near. 

We have so many things to eat

Turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie

Topped with a mountain of sweet whipped cream

That reaches clear up to the sky!

This particular week, I also had them color in the head and legs, from the knees down, of a pilgrim boy or girl. They glued these on the top and bottom of their poem, so it would look like the pilgrim was holding the poem.

I put the following instructions on the board:

1. Copy the poem.
2. Color your pilgrim.
3. Cut out your pilgrim.
4. Glue the pilgrim to your poem.

But, I teach second grade. So these instructions were still a little tiny bit confusing for some of my kids. After about 20 minutes, I reviewed the instructions again by reading them out loud.

I was just saying ".....so in the end, after you've glued the pilgrim to your poem - " when my cute D exclaimed, "What? Pilgrim? I thought this was a leprechaun."

I looked over at his desk, and, sure enough, he had colored in his pilgrim just like a leprechaun.

PS: This is amusing to you too, right? I don't just think this is funny because it's my class and I love them, right? I just want to know that this is not like when new moms post pictures and Facebook statuses about their newborn's poop. This is funny in the real world too, isn't it?

If not, here's something that I know for sure is actually funny to more than just me:

I don't know why I still laugh so hard every time I see this picture....but I do.

Lumberjacks

Some people put up fake Christmas trees. Some people put up real Christmas trees. I'm not saying that one is better than the other.....but let's be honest. Real Christmas trees are better than fake ones.

Some people buy real Christmas trees from a lot. Some people chop down their real Christmas tree. Again, I'm not saying that chopping down your own Christmas tree makes you better than other people. But it might. 

This weekend, Kailyn, Caitlin, the Jew, Erin and I ventured over to the far corners of Utah:

That's right. We went to Richfield, Utah.

One-stoplight-town, Farmville, home-on-the-range, we're-from-the-country-and-we-like-it-that-way, Richfield. We made a brief stop at this place:

"Are we going there someday?" "I don't know, you tell me...."

Once we were done there, nothing could stop us from getting to Kailyn's beautiful home! Except for the one stop sign in the town. We met her family, talked up one of our friends to make a good impression on Kailyn's family in his absence, and then took a nap, all of us piled on Kailyn's bed.

When we woke up, something was different. We didn't have facial hair or rough, callused hands, but an unmistakable change had taken place: our nap had turned us into lumberjacks.

There were about 8 trucks in the driveway - Kailyn's family believes in trucks - so we all climbed in and struck out for the mountains.  First, the trucks did the hiking. Eventually, we had to get out and do the rest of the hiking ourselves. K-Mom gave us one piece of advice: "When you bring the tree back to the truck, you'll want to carry it down the mountain, not up the mountain. So go uphill to find it."

Our tree was living in a little patch of ankle-deep snow when we found him. He smiled at us with his soft, sage-colored needles, and even though he was a little bit balding on one side, we felt in our hearts that he was our tree. (Or maybe it was just getting dark and we weren't sure how long it was going to take to chop him down or if we would be able to find another one if we left him.....)

Lumberjacks have riveting conversations while they chop. Here's what ours sounded like:

"Hold that pose, can you just wait there a second?" "Wait the lighting was weird! Take it again." "Why do I have an alien head?" "Now you two together. Smile!" "Are you still holding onto the tree? Because it's probably going to fall soon...." "Did you ever txt him back?" "Perfect! I love this one!" "Can that please not go on facebook?"

In case you couldn't tell, at least 3 of us were on our phones or cameras at any given time.

Sawing down the tree was one thing; getting it down the mountain was a whole 'nother task. A mother of a nother task. Gravity swung on by to help us, but it still took all of our Kailyn and Caitlin and Erin's strength and muscles to bring it to Kailyn's brothers. Then it took about 1/18th of their strength to hoist it off the ground and carry it on their shoulders to the truck.

So what did I learn from all this?

Sometimes, boys are like trees. And you have to climb a mountain to find one that you like. And sometimes, he is a little bit balding on one side, or his needles are a little poiky, or he's stuck in the spot where you found him, on account of his roots or whatever.

Sometimes, you need your friends to help you saw down the tree that you want. Wing-girls are so necessary.

Sometimes, you kind of love the tree the moment you see it. But then you still have to cut it down and find a way to get it back to your apartment.

Sometimes, trees look a lot taller when they are laying in the snow than they do when they are standing in the snow. Sometimes, you notice the same thing about boys.

Sometimes, you see all these people coming down the mountain with their trees, and you think how easy it must have been for them to just pluck their tree from the side of the road. But sometimes you're wrong, because probably they didn't pluck their tree or their boy from the side of the road, and probably they had to go through the same process that you did.

Sometimes, there's a tree that really freakin' wants to be your tree, but he takes his sweet time coming down the mountain and puts up such a fuss about it that you almost leave him there on the dead log that he's hanging onto. But then you don't, because he really is the most beautiful tree you've ever seen, and besides that he is really good company, and you like it when he txts you and comes over and even when he eats your food, so whatever. You'll drag him down the mountain even if it kills annoys you, because let's be honest: the chances that he'll end up flying off the truck on the way back to Provo are looking pretty slim, and you honestly believe that one day he will look beautiful, all decked out in lights and ornaments and popcorn in your apartment, and you'll forget about the sap and the splinters and the bruises, and it will all be worth your stupid day month as a lumberjack.

Here we are putting up our beautiful Teddy:

Cute bum, where ya from?

And here he is, all lit up and beautiful:

Meeting the Parents

There was this one time when Ashton Kutcher went to meet his fiancee's parents, and it went horribly. He was a really nice boy, but Bernie Mac just did not think he was suitable marriage material for his daughter, and he took every opportunity to make that abundantly clear.

While this concept made for a movie that I found very funny, it is a concept that hits all too close to home for some people. Namely, 90% of the male population. Boys get nervous about meeting girls' parents, just as a general rule. Dads are overprotective, moms are picky and fastidious, and the fear is that, no matter what you do, they are not going to like you.

It's easier to be a girl and meet a boy's parents, at least in my experience. Dads are generally easy to please - if you are not a troll, they feel all proud of their son and they like you. Moms like you as long as you are not a hooker. Bonus points are always awarded if you are good with kids or can hold a conversation.

So keeping all of this in mind, and remembering that I am a girl, it should not be too surprising that meeting parents is not something that has ever really bothered me.

.......Until now. Tomorrow and Wednesday, hordes of parents will be descending upon my school for Parent-Teacher Conferences. They all want to meet me and ask me how their child is doing. And I am not particularly looking forward to it. In fact, if I'm being honest, I'm dreading it.

I just really don't want any of them to go all Ashley's sister on me. I have an entire year to convince my kids that I'm nice and they should like me. I only have 15 minutes with their parents.

Wish me luck??

An Attitude of Gratitude

Of course, I am thankful for all the typical things: family, friends, food, the gospel, America, etc. Here's what I am thankful for besides those things:

- roommates who understand that my love languages are food and good parking spots

- boys who have 8-packs

- the Park City outlets

- that the one time I ran into an ex, he didn't know about it

- .....and he looked bad anyways

- 4-hour naps on Sunday - these are so essential to my happiness



- my sisters and their blogs

- the Draper temple

It is beautiful inside, seriously beautiful.

- that one time my mom dropped Crisco on Nicole's foot

- that other time when Nicole said, all nurturingly, "Jacob. When I was your age, I had e-coli." And Jacob replied, "What? Whose poop did you eat?"

- that time when Julie was squinting at the menu at Disney World and this employee came along and kindly handed her a menu in Spanish

- all the times when we have started singing at the table, quietly, and then Nicole has joined in, a little louder, so the rest of us have stopped singing, and my dad has looked up from his meal and gotten upset at Nicole

- the mental image I have in my head of Nicole in seminary

- Antoine Dodson....I know this was like 2 years ago but I still want to thank that guy for the hours of entertainment he has provided me with

- that I know how to make frittatas, lemon glaze, meatballs, parmesan broccoli, paper snowflakes, Hootenanny pancakes, and a plethora of other things

- that my roommates can make even more things

- that I don't have a unibrow

- Cassidy Jane Carbaby

- that one time when my dad started singing about a lemon tree at the dinner table

- that one of my students came in on Friday and gave me a piece of paper with a note that said: "Miss Connor you are the best teacher thanks for being my teacher see you after school!" and had a purple jolly rancher taped to it

- Owen Wilson

I don't know what it is, but I love him. And I am indeed thankful for him. 

Love Me

For the art center this week, I've cut out a bunch of colorful feathers on which my students are supposed to write things they are grateful for. Today, I was going through, taping them on the turkey and reading what everyone was grateful for.

There were the typical answers: family, dad, Earth, my teacher, food, school, etc. And then I came across this one:

"Don't eat me!"

and this one:

"Love me!"

I think it's fair to say that C didn't quite understand the assignment.....but I put his feathers on the turkey anyway. You know why? Because turkeys need love, just like everybody else. If I could, I would put a feather just like that one on Selena Gomez, and another one on Justin Bieber.

Because I just need to say that I heard (2 days after the fact!) that Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez are, in fact, broken up.

Why would you ever break this up??

What??  Just because Emily and Jef did it, that doesn't mean it's cool!

I am more upset about this than the logical part of me really thinks is reasonable. I take these things pretty personally.

As in, I am still not quite over the fact that Ryan Phillipe cheated on Reese Witherspoon, what, 10 years ago?

And she is all happily remarried and he's still a sub-par actor whose fame probably peaked with the notoriety of his infidelity, so Reese clearly won and I clearly shouldn't still be upset about it, but whatever. 

If JP and Ashley try to follow this trend I swear I will take a personal day about it.

But you know who I'm not upset about?

Whatever.

Christopher....bye.

While preparing a social studies lesson for tomorrow, I had a bit of a crisis. So of course, I went to the smartest man I know: my dad.

Via google chat, I said:

     me:  dad

   did christopher columbus not really find america?

   did he just go to haiti and cuba?

   did amerigo vespucci discover america?

He responded:

 Sid:  that's right ...

To which I said:

 me:  dang it

i've been so deceived

And then this little cyber-barb appeared on my screen:

 Sid:  i am in a meeting and what you are writing is being displayed for the whole world to see


You know I felt just fantastic about that. I think I turned pink as I pictured all the suits tilting their heads slightly to read what I had typed, and then glaring as the ignorance of it all settled into their minds. I pictured my dad getting all flustered and trying to ex out of our conversation before any more damage could be done. I pictured my latest message popping up insistently, clamoring for a spot on the screen.

It took me a good three minutes to come up with this response:

me: sorry

good thing you knew the answer or this would have been really embarrassing

God bless the public school system. Just, bless it.

Unsolicited Life Advice

If you aren't really interested in some life advice, you should teach second grade. These kiddos give me advice I wasn't looking for all the time. It's probably partially my fault for telling them all about my life.

Sometimes I feel like my class consists of about 20 of these.

Here's some advice I got when.....

- I told them I was allowed to wear jeans the next day: "Make sure you wear skinny jeans." Wait, when did I switch to teaching 6th grade?

- I told them I didn't know what to be for Halloween: "You should be a teenager. Cuz that's what you look like anyway." Well, thanks. 'Preciate that.

- I told them I was going to buy a car: "You should get a nice one. Like a Bugatti." Maybe if I had chosen a different career.....

- I told them I wanted to make math a little funner: "All you need to do is bring us candy. Like, a big huge bag for each of us. That would be reallllllyy fun." Let's consider the resulting sugar rush.....not fun for me!

- I told them that the dress I was wearing belonged to my roommate: "You better start wearing your own stuff. She could poison your food, you know."

And today's piece of advice, which came when I was standing innocently around, signing assignment sheets after having said nothing about any boys all day:

K: You should get married.
me: Oh, really? Why?
K: Because you're a teenager.
me: I'm not a teenager!
K: Oh, then you should for sure get married.   . . . . . . . tomorrow.
me: Tomorrow?? But why?
K: Because you're a grown-up.
me: Okay, well I'll work on that then....
C: Yeah! Then there can be two Mrs. Connors!
*Pause*
C: Wait.....
A: Well, you don't have to get married exactly tomorrow.
K: But by Thanksgiving at least.
A: Maybe go on some dates first.
K: No, she's already been on some dates. So now you can get married.
A: But maybe a few more dates would be good?
K: She doesn't need to go on more dates. She just needs to get engaged, then married. Boom.
me: I think your mom is waiting for you....

Who knew there were so many things I never knew?