Monday, August 25, 2008

True story

I am loving 6th graders already. They are so funny in the cutest way possible.

I was talking to them today about synonyms. Why on the first day I was trying to teach them something, I do not know, but here is how the conversation played out.

Me: "A synonym is a word that means the same thing as another word."

I see a sweet girl with a very perplexed look on her face. Raises her hand.

Sweet girl: (tentatively) "I thought that was a spice."

Me: "What? (confused) Oh, no, not CINNAMON, synonym."

I know that is teacher humor, but I got a good laugh out of it.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Ho Hum

I have been deliriously happy this week, and that makes me sad.

That seems a strange statement to make, but the more I think about what has made me so happy, the more I realize that I may be a terrible mother. I have had a great week at work. We started back to in-service this week, and I have been secretly loving every minute (everybody else was grumbling, so I sort of grumbled along, but I was really squirming in my chair with joy not boredom). I loved being at the school with the smells of floor wax and learning wafting down the halls. I wish I could bottle that smell. I loved walking briskly down the halls (Toni would call it the "teacher walk") toward my classroom-my little piece of the school. I LOVE my classroom with my personality saturating the walls. I am in a portable this year and I am adoring it! I even got to paint. It was very Trading Spaces. I love creating documents to hand out to my students. I love updating my website. I love talking with the other teachers. I love my job.

Because it was in-service week, I had to go all day everyday. My gig this year is part time so I can stay home with the babe in the mornings and she won't forget me. Because the way I have been working this week, I would not be surprised if she thought Kelly was her mom. However, as much as I have been working, I have not really missed what was going on at home. I was enjoying myself too much. As I was sitting at my desk at 8:00 last night, I realized, I did not miss bathing Zoey and putting her to bed, and that made me sad. What kind of mother enjoys working more than being at home? I was a little sad that I had not seen Zoey at all that day, but I felt like what I was doing at school was more productive than what I do at home. I mean, I am raising a child. What could be more meaningful than that? My mind knows that, but my heart can't seem to grasp it. The only explanation that I have seem to come up with is that the babies at school get to go home at the end of the day. Even though I play several roles to them including mom to some, the reality is that the weight of responsibility of teaching is so much lighter than parenting. And my shoulders have sure been sore this summer from bearing that load. My how the seasons have changed. Summer used to be my vacation time. Now it seems that my getaway is school. I guess I'll have to do some great mother loving today to make up for, well, life.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

One more for good measure

Zoey loves her exersaucer and has recently really stuck to her nap schedule. I apparently am not as much of a stickler, because I was chatting with John when all the sudden I noticed it had gotten quiet and this is what I found:

Please note the pool of drool she has going on. If there was an Olympic sport for drooling or spitting up, she would take the gold.

Rock and Roll

Starting on her back.

Starting the roll...

Halfway there...


Thursday, August 14, 2008

Some short, badly written poetry

Ode to the Clean Floor

Oh, clean floor I simply love you.
I miss you so when you are gone,
which is more often than not.
You are so faithful
although you are used and abused.
You have been tracked on with fresh cut grass;
you have been pooped on by a sick kitty;
you have been spit up on by a healthy girl-
yet every time I wish to see you again,
all I have to do is give you a little scrub and there you are again
shining up at me like the ugly duckling turned into a swan.

Ode to a Glass of Wine

Beautiful wine sparkling in my glass,
do you know the joy you bring to me?
No, you do not for you are an inanimate object.
However, you show me more love than most living creatures.

Ode to a Sleeping Baby

Sweet baby girl-
love of my life
resting peacefully with little babely sighs.
Little sleeping hands clutching your blanket
still for the first time all day.
Watching you sleeping your dreamless sleep brings peace to our house
and joy to our hearts.
Mom and Dad hold hands as they watch your chest rise and fall
afraid to move too loudly.
Because although you look content in sleep
if we wake you up,
we will have hell to pay.

THE END (and the end of the torture)

Friday, August 8, 2008

confessions of a tired mom

I have been completely wiped out for the past week. It seems like nothing I do catches me up on my sleep. I was even desperate enough to take a nap with Zoey once. However, since the girl hardly naps herself, it was moot. Aside from being a crazy person all week, my exhaustion has led me to do a couple of things I wouldn't have normally done this week. As a preface, I completely blame the first thing on mommy brain. On Wednesday I went to Praise Team practice at our new "building" (the trailer that sits on our land with containing our pastor's office). I was so excited to go there, because I am really proud of where our church is going and I had never been to the site. I was a little unsure how to get there, but true to word, you really do just continue straight down W. Lake Houston until the road runs out. So, I pulled into the dirt patch considered part of the parking lot and bopped into the the building. At the end of practice, we took prayer requests. I talked about my job and starting school. I am so happy about this job. God has been so faithful in this matter. It is the perfect part time job and I have the perfect person lined up to watch Zoey. For those of you who know me, you know that while I am sharing all of this, I am being overly animated and well, gushy. At one point I clasped my hands together and said, "My life is perfect." Also, please note that I was the only girl at practice this week. I know the guys thought I was a little (okay alot) crazy. Well, after practice I trudged through the mud back to my car. I started to back up, and I realized I was stuck. My four wheel drive off road vehicle was stuck in the mud. Well, so much for the perfect life. It was very short lived. Oh, the irony. As I was searching for my cell phone (that I had conveniently forgotten) to call John, Douglas, our drummer, knocked on my window. He told me that he and our bassist were going to jump on the back of my car so I could get some traction. Commence jumping. Didn't work. So Douglas had to stand in ankle high mud and push my car while the other guy kept jumping. We finally got the car out but not without a few casualties. Douglas' shoes will probably never be the same. One might think that the story stops there, but oh no. Mommy brain continued to wreak havoc. I have mentioned before that I had never been to the building. Well, on the way back, I was a little distracted by my embarrassment and I didn't really take notice of things until I realized the arrows on the street were pointing toward me. Then I noticed the other guys driving down the other side of the street looking at me in a curious manner. It is a good thing that no one was coming toward me. I managed to get on the right side of the road, and when I pulled up next to Douglas I casually mentioned that I would appreciate this being our little inside joke. Being the gentleman that he is, he agreed. I managed to get home with no more incidents, but needless to say I was a little frazzled. I tried to relay the story to John as a joke, but he clearly was not in the mood, and he was concerned that I had run over some re bar. He started grilling me about where I had parked, and the craziness of the evening caught up with me, and I may have overreacted to the interrogation. At several points in our "conversation" I had my fingers in my ears. Really mature, I know. All I really wanted to do was go to bed and sleep until I woke up. Zoey had different plans. She woke up early the next morning, and it was a long day. John went to a men's fellowship that evening, and I found myself alone. As I got myself ready for bed, I noticed something curious on the bedspread. Upon further investigation, I realized one of the cats had thrown up on the bed. Gross. I stood there for a good few minutes trying to figure out what I should do. it hadn't been that long since we had gotten the bedspread back from the dry cleaners, and I really didn't want to have to load it up in the car along with a baby and drop it off again. So, what is a tired mom to do? She simply picks up the mess and sprays Resolve on the spot in hopes that the evidence will disappear. Much to my dismay, it worked, and I chose sleep as my reward.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Random thoughts on a quiet evening

In true Julie Andrews style, here are a few of my favorite things:

1. A good glass of wine (which I am enjoying right now) with a piece of pizza or chocolate or air
2. The moment when Zoey finally goes to bed
3. Placing fresh baked cookies to cool on wax paper
4. Swimming in the evening
5. Wearing Zoey in the Snugli
6. Cleaning the kitchen (minus washing the big pots)
7. Watching T.V. in bed
8. Simpson Family "Meat Fest"
9. Guitar Hero
10. Reading for as long as I want
11. Zoey chatter
12. Laughing at midnight about stupid things with Kelly
13. $1.50 Cheesecake
14. marital privileges with my husband( I am just being honest)
15. Fires in the fireplace
16. ALL holidays
17. Texting
18. My husband
19. The good kitty smell
20. Snuggling in bed

Sigh. Magic. "...When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad!"