Monthly Archives: February 2013

When the Bell Tolls No Longer

The other day I snarled at the intercom in third period.

The way the lunches are scheduled means that a bell rings no less than TEN times during the course of that one class.

At 5000 decibels.

In my room.

While we’re trying to have an intelligent discussion.

I made a wish, after snarling–something about bringing in a giant magnet to slap over the grill to silence it.

And one of my juniors brought me one!

In he walks, with a big, white magnetic circle and voila. Almost silenced bells. We can still hear them, but we are no longer cowering in the corner with our hands over our ears. Discussions proceed uninterrupted.

I love that boy.

(Also, on a side note: we had tacos.)

Two Questions

Pretend for a moment that an ex-dean of yours calls and offers you a position teaching summer classes  at his University.

He then sends you an application to fill out for Human Resources.

Would it be weird to use him as a reference on that application?

Also, is it possible to melt contact lenses to your eyeballs while grilling burgers?

Okay, fine–make that two questions and a statement:

It really does help to make yourself accountable for goal keeping. I know, because if I hadn’t promised publicly to make dinner a minimum of 5 out of every 7 nights this year, I’d quit. It was okay the first month or so. It was more than okay–it felt great to be that mom whose first priority was getting dinner on the table every night. Just deciding that not making dinner wasn’t an option made things surprisingly simple.

But then, I, like, totally ran out of things to make. And I was, like, so tired and stuff.

(I said that in my best sophomore voice, by the way.)

Point being, I do it whether I feel like it or not. Mostly because I don’t want to also make you dinner.

No offense.

I know, I know.  It’s probably just one of those weeks. I’ll be back to flour-slapping, dinner-making happy in a couple of days.

But sometimes, when I walk into a classroom and that kid at the back asks if we can just have a nap day, I totally, like, get it, you know?

Takin’ it on the Road

Betcha didn’t know the Honda Odyssey was built to carry 4×8 sheets of plywood:


Or that I could blog from highway 17; I know I didn’t.

And no, I’m not the one driving.

Also that we are having pizza for dinner. Because blogging is one thing; cooking? Entirely different.

Music to my Ears

Overheard in fourth period:

“What??! Is that seriously what time it is? Why does this class always go by so fast?”


“Man. This makes my brain hurt. No. Like seriously. My brain hurts just thinking about this. Wait!!! No, don’t take it; I want more time. “


When I began running, it took me two years to get to the point where I could run 5 miles. It took me almost a year to lose 35 pounds.

The entire process was excruciating and superhuman.

This past New Year, my husband decided that he’d lose 35 pounds, too.

It took him five weeks.

Ten days ago, he took up running.

He got like… five yards, the first day.

Today he ran seven miles.

So. Not. Fair.

Just between you and me, I put extra cheese in his chili tonight.

Kidding. Really; I’m kidding. It’s actually really inspiring to see someone transform like that. I think it’s rubbing off on my boys.

Now if only I’d taken a before picture of my family…

(Mom? Rex?)

What More Can I Say?

Pot roast. Just in case you were beginning to wonder.

How (Not) to Start a Weekend

Leave work at 3:00 pm, and proceed directly to picking a lock on a county building.

Enlist large male to pry off the door trim and try to jimmy the lock.

Give up.

Delegate breaking and entering to elderly woman you met only yesterday.

Give her your keys, and go home.

Try to hack into your “official” email for two hours.

Gain access and realize the expensive, official email client provided can’t send emails with attachments. Which was the point.

Nor can it send anything except plain, unformatted text.

Not even a bulleted list or a table. Or italics.

Transfer all relevant contacts into a new, free email account.

Write 93 emails. Respond to 57.

Delete voicemails based on area code.

Make breakfast burritos for dinner.

Call students’ parents.

Write students’ parents.

Eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner in one sitting–in front of a computer.

At 9:45 pm.