This is the message that played across my screen moments ago. Or at least that's what I read. I'm sure what it actually said was something along the lines of "We are sorry but your internet connection has stopped. Please check that it is connected and try again." Before I continue let me just remind you that I cannot write blogposts without internet access... so really it must be Hulu that hates me. Either that or I'm just extremely moody. Why I should EVER be moody I really don't know.
Perhaps it is because I'm packing. I hate packing. It is one of my least favorite things about a trip. Actually I love trips so it really isn't saying much when I say that something is my least favorite part. For instance, the countdown till I leave, the planning, the preparations, the anticipation, the excitement and imagining what I will do once I get there. Then the actual leaving. Le sigh. (Your guess is as good as mine whether that "sigh" is of relief or despair) Then the traveling and the traveling and the traveling. (Honestly, I think the traveling is one of my favorite parts... minus the hotels. I don't like hotels all that much right now) And then the arrival at the destination. Oh JOYOUS occasion!!! Unfortunately this is followed by the leaving and arriving at some predetermined point in the future. You understand now why I'm so mixed up. It seems that my heart will never be happy because no matter where I am, I am away from someone or something that I love.
My Mother once told me that you can never go home. Unfortunately she first told me this after my first year of college when I tried to move back in with my parents. ZOMG! Fail. Fail of epic proportions. Then I moved out. And in with my other family. You can imagine how terrified I was when I went to visit Bernie in Virginia. What if this was no longer home after I left? What if I could never find home again? Fortunately when I came back after my week away I still felt like Texas was my home but now I'm afraid of what California will be like. Will I miss Texas while I am away? Will I be overwhelmed with how much I missed California? What if something happens while I'm out of state? With all the spring changes I'm terrified that I'm going to miss something. Most of all, I'm afraid of what I am leaving behind. There are just some things that I can't describe- that I'm afraid to leave. What if once I'm gone they never come back? I suppose I should be grateful that I am so attached to Texas now, but the fear lingers on. Now you understand, the world hates me, and loves me too. I can't seem to escape it no matter what I do.
Nothing in California stayed the same after I left the first time, so Texas, be kind to me, on this my moodiest of days, and try not to change too much while I'm gone. Keep the flowers at bay a little longer, let not the children grow, let no one come to any harm, and try to keep my friends occupied... just not too occupied, because I want them to miss me and want me to come back.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Penitential Rite
As Lent draws near, I am once again reminded just how much I hate it. I mean really, as a good Christian I suppose that I should embrace and appreciate that a penitential season is good for me and is beneficial to my eventual attainment of heaven. I know this, I recognize this, but the child I was still stands forth and speaks out about HOW MUCH I hate this.
So, once again, in an ever failing effort to be penitential I'm going to NOT be on facebook for Lent (okay, excepting Sundays) and the rest I won't tell you what I'm doing, other than I might have to take my Bible out of my car and dust it off. For the record, I leave my Bible in my car because it's more convenient to find it there when I go to Church and, lest you think me too holy, when I get mad at other cars (who conveniently have Darwin fishes on them), I look at my Bible and it helps me not to curse. Anyways, not being on facebook should give me plenty of time to do all those things that I hate. Bah, humbug, whoops- wrong holiday. See you in forty days... well at least on facebook.
So, once again, in an ever failing effort to be penitential I'm going to NOT be on facebook for Lent (okay, excepting Sundays) and the rest I won't tell you what I'm doing, other than I might have to take my Bible out of my car and dust it off. For the record, I leave my Bible in my car because it's more convenient to find it there when I go to Church and, lest you think me too holy, when I get mad at other cars (who conveniently have Darwin fishes on them), I look at my Bible and it helps me not to curse. Anyways, not being on facebook should give me plenty of time to do all those things that I hate. Bah, humbug, whoops- wrong holiday. See you in forty days... well at least on facebook.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Phases of Love for Children
So in my life... I easily see lots of cute kids... every single day. Don't get me wrong, I still love that sometimes I turn around and realize that I have a shadow or that half the kids at my school seem to think my name is "Gaffy" "Gatti" or "Daddy". I wouldn't trade one tearstain on my shoulder or one handprint on my car... or on my pants. Every snot covered shirt I've had to wash and every exhausted night I have crashed into bed, as much as I may gripe about it later, it's all worth it to be loved by them. And besides, how else am I going to convince children that washing my socks can be equated with love?
At the Early Learning Center I have worked in every classroom from six months to twelve years. I don't know if I am actually that cool to smalls or that I'm just there, but I have discovered that all of them want to love and they all love me.
From six months to a year anyone who is not Mama or Daddy is... well, not anyone of importance... except for the minor detail of... "WHERE'S MAMA!!!!!" Naps are... evil... if Mama isn't there.
From a year to eighteen months kids are in the high energy stage. They want to be constantly entertained with constant change in topic every three minutes. Naps are regulated to whenever they feel like it and God hath no fury like a wakened toddler.
Eighteen months to two years is even more high energy. They want flashy hands and noisy toys. It's frightening. Yet they love you no matter what.
From two years to two and a half years they want song, noise, constant attention, and constant hugs. Being held is awesome, flashy toys are paradise, and nothing is quite right if naptime is delayed.
At three years they develop a change- they still love you and want your time, energy, and patience... but now they've discovered that if they are bad they achieve the same goal. ZOMG!!! Naptime is an evil which must be avoided at all costs and destruction is the best way to learn. They still love you but they haven't grasped the idea that torture does not equate to affection being rendered.
At four years some sanity returns with the recognition of punishment which result from bad behavior. However, attitude comes in, followed shortly by bad attitudes and dragging of heels just long enough to drive everyone else nuts but quick enough to avoid punishment. Their love is constant, even when their halos are not.
Five year olds are much the same except we add in the desire to actually TEACH THEM in school. (It may be argued that "school" isn't a good word for this- I think "Circus" would be more accurate.) They may pretend to hate you, but they are genuinely offended if you forget to love them.
At six they discover either a) they like to learn and will do so willingly, like a flower hungry for the sun's rays, and/or b) they don't like school and will be the torturers of the modern age. At this age they return to infancy and claim to love no one but Mama and Papa but still want your undying attention, affection, and energy.
Seven-year-olds require constant attention, not because they require it but because they desire it. "Did you know that..." "Can you guess why..." "Who do you think will..." Every sentence begins with something that they know that they question if you know. Word to the wise, if they don't do this to you, they don't like you and they certainly don't love you.
Eight-year-olds begin the stage of believing they are little adults. Up until this point they identify themselves soley as "big kids" but now they want duties and enjoy being entrusted with them. However, *doing* the job is another thing.
At nine they begin to actually be helpful. They understand that your time is not their time and in some cases seem to appreciate any time you spend with them. Continuing on this wavelength, they are easily flustered when they are unable to complete tasks on their own through some complication beyond their control (i.e. height, strength, weather, etc.). They are capable of working independently but this is the beginning of the change in which they want all your love but aren't quite sure how to show it anymore. This the beginning of that wretched word: "tween".
Ten-year-olds continue much of the nine-year-old phase as their bodies begin to grow at a more rapid pace. They still desire attention and affection constantly but they attain a growing level of independence. They sometimes want the attention of adults outside of their parents and make relationships with other role models.
Eleven-year-olds will frequently lose their minds. At this point and for the next few years, physical affection is very important to them as they progress. Bodily growth is increasing, followed shortly by puberty. They are moody and unpredictable in every respect except for one- they want to be loved.
Twelve-year-olds don't have a clue what they want- all they know for sure is that you are not providing it. They lose their minds.
Thirteen-year-olds lose
your minds.
Fourteen-year-olds have no minds.
At fifteen they begin to temper down a little as a lull before the storm.
At sixteen they think they know everything.
At seventeen they think you know nothing.
At eighteen it occurs to them that maybe you aren't as dumb as they thought- not that they'd tell you. They also begin to wish they were small again. This brings about a reversion to kindergarden maturity. I'd like to add they still want to be loved.
Nineteen-year-olds begin to understand what it's like to fear- what if something happened to you? They express their love more frequently.
At twenty they begin to plan what will happen next and wonder how you will play a role in this.
At twenty-one most children are out of "the nest" and planning for making their own little nests and though they may leave they now start to wish they were smaller again.
At the Early Learning Center I have worked in every classroom from six months to twelve years. I don't know if I am actually that cool to smalls or that I'm just there, but I have discovered that all of them want to love and they all love me.
From six months to a year anyone who is not Mama or Daddy is... well, not anyone of importance... except for the minor detail of... "WHERE'S MAMA!!!!!" Naps are... evil... if Mama isn't there.
From a year to eighteen months kids are in the high energy stage. They want to be constantly entertained with constant change in topic every three minutes. Naps are regulated to whenever they feel like it and God hath no fury like a wakened toddler.
Eighteen months to two years is even more high energy. They want flashy hands and noisy toys. It's frightening. Yet they love you no matter what.
From two years to two and a half years they want song, noise, constant attention, and constant hugs. Being held is awesome, flashy toys are paradise, and nothing is quite right if naptime is delayed.
At three years they develop a change- they still love you and want your time, energy, and patience... but now they've discovered that if they are bad they achieve the same goal. ZOMG!!! Naptime is an evil which must be avoided at all costs and destruction is the best way to learn. They still love you but they haven't grasped the idea that torture does not equate to affection being rendered.
At four years some sanity returns with the recognition of punishment which result from bad behavior. However, attitude comes in, followed shortly by bad attitudes and dragging of heels just long enough to drive everyone else nuts but quick enough to avoid punishment. Their love is constant, even when their halos are not.
Five year olds are much the same except we add in the desire to actually TEACH THEM in school. (It may be argued that "school" isn't a good word for this- I think "Circus" would be more accurate.) They may pretend to hate you, but they are genuinely offended if you forget to love them.
At six they discover either a) they like to learn and will do so willingly, like a flower hungry for the sun's rays, and/or b) they don't like school and will be the torturers of the modern age. At this age they return to infancy and claim to love no one but Mama and Papa but still want your undying attention, affection, and energy.
Seven-year-olds require constant attention, not because they require it but because they desire it. "Did you know that..." "Can you guess why..." "Who do you think will..." Every sentence begins with something that they know that they question if you know. Word to the wise, if they don't do this to you, they don't like you and they certainly don't love you.
Eight-year-olds begin the stage of believing they are little adults. Up until this point they identify themselves soley as "big kids" but now they want duties and enjoy being entrusted with them. However, *doing* the job is another thing.
At nine they begin to actually be helpful. They understand that your time is not their time and in some cases seem to appreciate any time you spend with them. Continuing on this wavelength, they are easily flustered when they are unable to complete tasks on their own through some complication beyond their control (i.e. height, strength, weather, etc.). They are capable of working independently but this is the beginning of the change in which they want all your love but aren't quite sure how to show it anymore. This the beginning of that wretched word: "tween".
Ten-year-olds continue much of the nine-year-old phase as their bodies begin to grow at a more rapid pace. They still desire attention and affection constantly but they attain a growing level of independence. They sometimes want the attention of adults outside of their parents and make relationships with other role models.
Eleven-year-olds will frequently lose their minds. At this point and for the next few years, physical affection is very important to them as they progress. Bodily growth is increasing, followed shortly by puberty. They are moody and unpredictable in every respect except for one- they want to be loved.
Twelve-year-olds don't have a clue what they want- all they know for sure is that you are not providing it. They lose their minds.
Thirteen-year-olds lose
your minds.
Fourteen-year-olds have no minds.
At fifteen they begin to temper down a little as a lull before the storm.
At sixteen they think they know everything.
At seventeen they think you know nothing.
At eighteen it occurs to them that maybe you aren't as dumb as they thought- not that they'd tell you. They also begin to wish they were small again. This brings about a reversion to kindergarden maturity. I'd like to add they still want to be loved.
Nineteen-year-olds begin to understand what it's like to fear- what if something happened to you? They express their love more frequently.
At twenty they begin to plan what will happen next and wonder how you will play a role in this.
At twenty-one most children are out of "the nest" and planning for making their own little nests and though they may leave they now start to wish they were smaller again.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Rules and Choices
"The choices that we make dictate the person that we become." My Mother used to say that and since it is so very somber, I'm sure she stole it from someone else. My Aubelita used to say, "Show me your friends and I will show you who you are." Originally it was said in Spanish but for the benefit of my reading audience I didn't try to spout out my bad Spanish memory. There are certain laws that all people must live by, and that no amount of persuasion will ever allow them to cease. These laws would include the law of gravity, the law of sobriety, and the mortal man's curse. You see where I am going with this.
This weekend one of my dearest friends was in a car accident involving a drunken driver. Everyone of the five people in the car survived and they are relatively uninjured (a black eye, one damaged spinal cord, and one broken arm), but they are survive. I won't examine what they were thinking but will instead examine my choices following my knowledge of the event.
At first I was shocked- my family will attest that I sat there, holding whatever small child would allow me to squeeze them, picturing the events over and over again in my head. Every single time they all ended up dead. Then I moved into fear. "They should all be dead now" continuously played over in my mind followed by, "I could've lost you forever." Then I got angry. I won't replay what I thought at this point because I'm sure anyone's imagination should have sufficient explatives to understand what I was feeling. Then I got stuck, I spent the larger portion of yesterday being angry, and steadily getting angrier and angrier. Finally God intervened and sent me Sasha, who managed to get me past that (still not sure how) and now I've moved into acceptance and, dare I say it, gratefulness.
Choices- at least one person in that car did not make a good decision that night and forgiveness will be a long time coming for me.
Rules- death is forever.
Choices- I have issues with losing people suddenly.
Rules- if any one of those people had died that morning, everyone at the university would be beyond comfort and in many case, scarred for life.
Choices- I will have a hard time forgiving any one who drives drunk in the future.
Rules- gravity is a real downer.
Choices- drunkeness is a real downer too.
Tali if you're reading this, I want you to know that I love you and I am very grateful that I get the opportunity to tell you this. I am very grateful that God gave me the chance to tell you this and I pray that He will always protect you. I am forever in the debt of your guardian Angel and I am so very happy that I didn't lose you. I know I speak for everyone who has ever met you when I say this.
This weekend one of my dearest friends was in a car accident involving a drunken driver. Everyone of the five people in the car survived and they are relatively uninjured (a black eye, one damaged spinal cord, and one broken arm), but they are survive. I won't examine what they were thinking but will instead examine my choices following my knowledge of the event.
At first I was shocked- my family will attest that I sat there, holding whatever small child would allow me to squeeze them, picturing the events over and over again in my head. Every single time they all ended up dead. Then I moved into fear. "They should all be dead now" continuously played over in my mind followed by, "I could've lost you forever." Then I got angry. I won't replay what I thought at this point because I'm sure anyone's imagination should have sufficient explatives to understand what I was feeling. Then I got stuck, I spent the larger portion of yesterday being angry, and steadily getting angrier and angrier. Finally God intervened and sent me Sasha, who managed to get me past that (still not sure how) and now I've moved into acceptance and, dare I say it, gratefulness.
Choices- at least one person in that car did not make a good decision that night and forgiveness will be a long time coming for me.
Rules- death is forever.
Choices- I have issues with losing people suddenly.
Rules- if any one of those people had died that morning, everyone at the university would be beyond comfort and in many case, scarred for life.
Choices- I will have a hard time forgiving any one who drives drunk in the future.
Rules- gravity is a real downer.
Choices- drunkeness is a real downer too.
Tali if you're reading this, I want you to know that I love you and I am very grateful that I get the opportunity to tell you this. I am very grateful that God gave me the chance to tell you this and I pray that He will always protect you. I am forever in the debt of your guardian Angel and I am so very happy that I didn't lose you. I know I speak for everyone who has ever met you when I say this.
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Continued Adventures of My Continued Education
This past week and half has been very exciting for me so in order to set hte record straight I thought it best to clear it up here. As some of you may have heard, last Thursday I got a call from my school, Texas Teachers for Alternate Teaching Certificates for the State of Texas, asking me to call them back. On Friday the greater Austin area was closed because of snow warning. On Monday I finally reached them where I was informed that I was no longer a student at their fine insitution because they believed that the university where I had gotten my BA was unaccredited at the time of my graduation. Me being the quiet, passive girl that I am, immediately called my university and they (fortunately) immediately started calling people and fixed the problem by Tuesday. Unfortunately for me the lady handling the whole issue never got to work on time and took extra long lunches. Consequently, it took many, many days to get in contact with her. Finally Friday I got everything sorted and was accepted back into the program with two minor issues- 1, I missed an important week of class, 2, I hadn't done anything but play phone tag all week. Answer to problems, scream. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Stay tuned for the continued adventures of my continued adventure. Monday, I get to call them and try and schedule a time for me to make up this class time, because the makeup date is in two months sandwiched between my family reunion and my college buddies wedding.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
Lost in Neverland
I make no secret that my favorite book ever written, from Crime and Punishment to Persuasion, from Blue Castle to Dracula, my favorite favorite book is Peter Pan. James Barrie was known for his outlandish ideas that captured children in his spell. I've read the book at least three dozen times, not to mention all the sequels and fan fiction on it. I've even taken to reading the Tinkerbell books. I admit as a child I had a huh-uge crush on Peter and it will be no surprise to anyone who knew me then that I constantly dreamed of flying off to Never Neverland. If I ever have a son (and an understanding, unjealous husband) I intend to name him Peter.
This past week I watched the Disney classic with the kids and for the first time I began to understand why I was so drawn to the story. It wasn't because Peter could fly or that he battled pirates or that he made friends with mermaids (although all of those reasons might've been), but for the first time in my life I realized how much my life paralled Wendy's.
Let me point out that I never liked Wendy. Or maybe I was just extremely jealous of her- she had the chance to never grow up and instead she chose to (for the record, I'm not sure what I would choose if given the choice), but I digress. Wendy was the leader of her many brothers. Though she loved them, she often felt surrounded by them and didn't necessarily enjoy behaving like a girl. She was very fond of her dog and she often told stories. She loved her parents more than anything, even when her father didn't understand her and didn't know how to understand. She adopted the lost boys without question and enjoyed playing their mother. The culmination of her dreams coming true resulted in Peter whisking her away to Neverland but when she finally had everything she wanted- Peter, Neverland, unceasing childhood, and the adventure of a life time- she realized she had to go back and grow up. Are we noticing some similiarities here? I hope you do.
Wendy's brothers are her best friends whom she confides the most important thing in her life- Peter Pan. Her Mother is her biggest fan and though she doesn't always understand she is always supportive. Her Father sometimes masquerades as the villain in Neverland, but he's also her hero. Tinker Belle represents that feminine prankster that I find innate in all women, and in some ways I think that though Tinker Belle is jealous of Wendy, Wendy is also jealous of Tinker Belle. Peter is the delusion that holds my attention the most. He is the youthful, innocent love- of boys, of childhood, of the impossible happening. Peter is the first boy she ever loved and will always be there, somewhere in her dreams and imagination, but he will never be the man that she needs.
Maybe Peter Pan is everyones story- we all have to be grown ups some time, but the few lucky among us, never have to grow up.
This past week I watched the Disney classic with the kids and for the first time I began to understand why I was so drawn to the story. It wasn't because Peter could fly or that he battled pirates or that he made friends with mermaids (although all of those reasons might've been), but for the first time in my life I realized how much my life paralled Wendy's.
Let me point out that I never liked Wendy. Or maybe I was just extremely jealous of her- she had the chance to never grow up and instead she chose to (for the record, I'm not sure what I would choose if given the choice), but I digress. Wendy was the leader of her many brothers. Though she loved them, she often felt surrounded by them and didn't necessarily enjoy behaving like a girl. She was very fond of her dog and she often told stories. She loved her parents more than anything, even when her father didn't understand her and didn't know how to understand. She adopted the lost boys without question and enjoyed playing their mother. The culmination of her dreams coming true resulted in Peter whisking her away to Neverland but when she finally had everything she wanted- Peter, Neverland, unceasing childhood, and the adventure of a life time- she realized she had to go back and grow up. Are we noticing some similiarities here? I hope you do.
Wendy's brothers are her best friends whom she confides the most important thing in her life- Peter Pan. Her Mother is her biggest fan and though she doesn't always understand she is always supportive. Her Father sometimes masquerades as the villain in Neverland, but he's also her hero. Tinker Belle represents that feminine prankster that I find innate in all women, and in some ways I think that though Tinker Belle is jealous of Wendy, Wendy is also jealous of Tinker Belle. Peter is the delusion that holds my attention the most. He is the youthful, innocent love- of boys, of childhood, of the impossible happening. Peter is the first boy she ever loved and will always be there, somewhere in her dreams and imagination, but he will never be the man that she needs.
Maybe Peter Pan is everyones story- we all have to be grown ups some time, but the few lucky among us, never have to grow up.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Just when do you sleep?
So another month has flown by and despite my lengthy list of google calendar emails set up to remind me to actually do my life, I somehow forgot to add "write in blog" to the list. However, "clean out Bennie", "work out", and "Call your Mother" did manage to make it onto the email reminders list (note to self: add "schedule social life" to calendar.)
It seems that every month that passes brings about another big change in my life. Last month was "begin school again." NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Seven months of freedom I have enjoyed only to be blighted out by the return of *gasp* SCHOOL to learn how to TEACH!!!! Which means MORE SCHOOL!!!!!
As a side note, last night my class seemed to be centered around "think positive, be positive, and be organized." The more they grilled this into my head the more I kept thinking, "Gee, I wonder if Dr. Barr EVER taught that way." His non-sentimental, cynicism in the classroom seems to have been ingrained into my skull as the BEST way to teach because I don't think I worked harder for any of my teachers than for him, largely because he was un-impressable, but I digress.
Today I broke my all time record at the Early Learning Center and took care of seven different classes, ranging in age from ten months to ten years. For the last few hours of my work day I was put in a classroom with mainly four-year-olds. Consequently, I got to finally talk to some of the teachers from that corner of the building. They are more my age and seem to be more my style of people so I was very, very, very excited for this move.
One of the teachers and I got to talking and after a while it came out that I have three jobs, am going to school part time, along with various other time consuming activities in my life. Now this is a working mother of two, wife to one, very busy red head so it surprised me when she stopped me to say, "So just when exactly do you sleep?" My response: "Oh I sleep a lot... I just don't have much of a social life." Mwahahahaa! I lied. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one it was.
It seems that every month that passes brings about another big change in my life. Last month was "begin school again." NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Seven months of freedom I have enjoyed only to be blighted out by the return of *gasp* SCHOOL to learn how to TEACH!!!! Which means MORE SCHOOL!!!!!
As a side note, last night my class seemed to be centered around "think positive, be positive, and be organized." The more they grilled this into my head the more I kept thinking, "Gee, I wonder if Dr. Barr EVER taught that way." His non-sentimental, cynicism in the classroom seems to have been ingrained into my skull as the BEST way to teach because I don't think I worked harder for any of my teachers than for him, largely because he was un-impressable, but I digress.
Today I broke my all time record at the Early Learning Center and took care of seven different classes, ranging in age from ten months to ten years. For the last few hours of my work day I was put in a classroom with mainly four-year-olds. Consequently, I got to finally talk to some of the teachers from that corner of the building. They are more my age and seem to be more my style of people so I was very, very, very excited for this move.
One of the teachers and I got to talking and after a while it came out that I have three jobs, am going to school part time, along with various other time consuming activities in my life. Now this is a working mother of two, wife to one, very busy red head so it surprised me when she stopped me to say, "So just when exactly do you sleep?" My response: "Oh I sleep a lot... I just don't have much of a social life." Mwahahahaa! I lied. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one it was.
Friday, January 21, 2011
What It Actually Said
Few people understand why I am usually in a good mood, and even fewer know why. The simple truth is that I am dyslexic (joy). Consequently I read things wrong all the time. This usually makes me laugh as I recheck what I read and compare the two. Thus I create "WHAT IT ACTUALLY SAID"
What it said was "Royal Port Rush Drive"
What I read was "Royal Pain Push By"
What she said was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little underdressed."
What I heard was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little undressed."
What it said was "Loveless sinners"
What I read was "Lifeless suckers"
It said "PSM Pantry"
I read "PMS Pantry"
(It made way more sense to donate to that one.)
What he said "Soccer for life."
What I heard "Sucker for life."
What it said was "Royal Port Rush Drive"
What I read was "Royal Pain Push By"
What she said was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little underdressed."
What I heard was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little undressed."
What it said was "Loveless sinners"
What I read was "Lifeless suckers"
What he said "Salve mundi."
What I heard "Salty Monday."
What it said "Excorcising demons"
What I read was "Excercising demons."
What it said was "The catchiest song"
What I read was "The catechesis song"
What's better is I blinked and read "The catiest song"
Thursday, January 06, 2011
What is in a name?
Given that it's been a long time since I last posted I figured now was as good a time as any. That and I'm procrastinating about cleaning my room. Some of you may know that a few days before Christmas I started my latest job- assistant teacher at an early learning center about two blocks away from my house. I like my commute.
Anyways, due to my new position I have an unique perspective on life- to see what parents think (or rather, don't think) of when naming their little bundle of joy. Maybe it's a sign of the times but should I be worried that most of my kids have names of characters from movies that came out a little before they were born?
In the three classes that I've taught I've had at least one Isabella or Bella in every single class. My first class had three. My current class has only one but there are only three girls. Please note- there are no children named Edward. However there are two Jacobs. For this reason I now believe that Texas is Team Jacob.
Initially that was going to be my entire blog post except for some snide comment on parents making unique names by misspelling common names like "Karizma" or "Caiden" until I got the newest students in my class.
The first is named Jack- yes, there are Disney fans even in Texas- I have want to call him Captain.
The other little boy is named Hunter. I thought this was a particularly boring name... until I realized that every single day Hunter wears camo... camo jacket... camo pants... camo hat... camo shoes... I didn't even know they made those... and camo shirt. It is one thing to name your child after your weekend obsession... it is another thing to make it the theme of his life and wardrobe. Poor kid. What's better is he's got a unique issue with meat- as in, he hates eating it. Again, poor kid.
P.S. Hunter wore a shirt today that says "You call it a mascot.... we call it a hamburger."
Anyways, due to my new position I have an unique perspective on life- to see what parents think (or rather, don't think) of when naming their little bundle of joy. Maybe it's a sign of the times but should I be worried that most of my kids have names of characters from movies that came out a little before they were born?
In the three classes that I've taught I've had at least one Isabella or Bella in every single class. My first class had three. My current class has only one but there are only three girls. Please note- there are no children named Edward. However there are two Jacobs. For this reason I now believe that Texas is Team Jacob.
Initially that was going to be my entire blog post except for some snide comment on parents making unique names by misspelling common names like "Karizma" or "Caiden" until I got the newest students in my class.
The first is named Jack- yes, there are Disney fans even in Texas- I have want to call him Captain.
The other little boy is named Hunter. I thought this was a particularly boring name... until I realized that every single day Hunter wears camo... camo jacket... camo pants... camo hat... camo shoes... I didn't even know they made those... and camo shirt. It is one thing to name your child after your weekend obsession... it is another thing to make it the theme of his life and wardrobe. Poor kid. What's better is he's got a unique issue with meat- as in, he hates eating it. Again, poor kid.
P.S. Hunter wore a shirt today that says "You call it a mascot.... we call it a hamburger."
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Winter in Texas
So I've finally admitted that autumn is over and winter is finally upon us and my first impression of the state may have worn off. With the changing of the seasons I still love my second home but I must say there are a few observations that I feel must be reported. I don't know how my Mother ever managed the changing of the seasons in California but the abrupt, yet welcome drop in temperature has been.... special. Christmas decorations are flying up (sometimes more literally than figuratively), it takes us at least seven minutes to dress every individual child for the weather, leaves are migrating into the house with every little person's step, Jim get's out every time a door is left open, and the baby's breath has become special to say the least. With all this cheerfulness it's hard to stay sober... er, I meant somber. This will be my first Christmas away from my parents and brothers and sister; as happy as I am to be here, I sometimes get caught up with the fact that there are people who aren't here... that normally are. I just want you to know that I miss you, I wish you were here, but I feel like I'm supposed to be here now. Don't feel neglected- just remember that in everything I do, I am most CERTAINLY my Father's daughter... but I promise not to marry a guy who doesn't speak your language or your culture... or join the seminary for ten years.
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