Best. Day. Ever.

I love Fridays at school.  Mostly - if not entirely - because it's short day.  We have Language Arts in the morning, lunch, and 20 minutes of whatever until the bell rings.  LOVE IT!

Today was especially fun because of two tiny little words - fried worms.  Yesterday we finished reading the book "How To Eat Fried Worms", and today we watched the movie - complete with a pajama party, blankets, pillows, popcorn, gummy worms, and even some "fried worms" I made from hot dog strips and pancake batter.  Fantastic.  My kids love it.  The other teachers in 3rd grade hated me because all their kids wanted to be in my class today.  I'm awesome.  What can I say?

On top of all that wonderfulness I got to wear my pajamas to school, and got to miss out on all the after school meetings because I had a dentist appointment (cavity free after 2 years!  Woot!).  What could be better?

Now if only I had a hot date for tonight...

Discoveries

It's already the end of the 3rd week of February

There are no mailboxes near my house

Diet Dr. Pepper really does taste more like Dr. Pepper

Pursuing your dreams is rather invigorating

The only basic 3-dimensional shape that people aren't really familiar with, is the prism.   And it's mostly that they just don't realize it's called a prism

Ghirardeli brownies are DELICIOUS!  Especially when made by someone else

Easter weekend is free

I currently have just over $1 in my checking account

Wikipedia has a "random" button

This is possibly the most ingenious website I've ever discovered.  Please visit often.

Story story

For some reason, I've taken to writing stories in weird places and at weird times.  My most recent endeavor was during the run of "Cash On Delivery" at Hale Theater.  I was a doctor who was supposedly taking notes, when in reality I was writing a story.  It turned out rather well, I think.  It's a bit long, so I won't post it here, but I will post a poem that I wrote during the last show on Saturday morning:

Mrs. Pumpernoodlestein

Had a cat, and it was fine.

She bathed it once or twice a day

Bathed it in the usual way

With rubber ducks, and suds, and soap-

The kind that hangs upon a rope

The cat would scream, and scratch, and screech

But Mrs. P kept out of reach

She thought it pertinent that he,

The cat, that is, should be as she

Squeaky clean, dressed to the nines

That's how she sleeps, and reads, and dines

The kitty, though, had other plans

You see, he'd found some rusty cans.

He planned to soil his pristine fur

And that would surely rankle her.

He sprang from tub, through bathroom door

And dashed along the hallway floor

He found the cans in back, you see

And thus began his dirty spree

But her poor cat runs out of luck

And gets picked up by garbage truck

Mrs. P sees that he's gone

And sheds a single tear - just one.

But soon a new friend comes her way

And Mrs. P smiles to this day

Mrs. Pumpernoodlestein

Had a bird, and it was fine.

Here's a short story that I wrote at church a few months ago while practicing my cursive handwriting.  I teach cursive in third grade and thought I might want to brush up a bit:

Once upon a time there was a little house in the woods.  Inside the house lived a small boy with his family.  The boy was missing one of his eyes, but he was very happy.  In the summer he would go to the beach and lay in the sand and relish the feelings of the waves as they washed over him.  All of a sudden he was attacked by A Flock of Seagulls - the band, not an actual flock of seagulls.  However, it was not a physical attack of violence, but an attack of pancakes!  The best part was that pancakes were the boy's favorite food.  So the boy feasted on pancakes with A Flock of Seagulls.  Then an actual flock of seagulls came and ate the boy and the band. 

The End.

One day I may publish a few of these stories.  Do you think the world is ready for my warped tales?

Spreadin' the love

I'm so super busy that lately I've been starting to feel it.  I'm kinda lonely, never have free time, bogged down with brain-melting homework, frustrated with friends, professors, kids, church etc. etc. etc.

Then today happened.  My kids were relatively well-behaved, I had the big-wigs, including my coach, the reading first guru for the district and the state, and my principal, as well as the 3rd grade faculty from my school come and watch me give a lesson for 20 minutes or so.  The main big-wig described the experience as "a breath of fresh air."  My principal had nothing but good to say, and my reading coach (who happens to also be my most beloved of aunts) is even going to buy me a loaf of bread!  Math time was productive, some of my kids are improving, the gym was awesome and I got half-way through a book.  PLUS I got free cookies at the show!

Then I ran into my friend's blog and here's where I get to share my joy.  She did a pay-it-forward post - A hand-made gift to the first three commenters - IF - they did something similar.  So I said, "Shoot!  Done!"  and left the 3rd comment.  So, here's the deal, the first three people to leave a comment on my blog - doesn't matter which post, just the next three comments I receive, get a little something special from me at some random point between now and Dec. 31st.  I can't guarantee anything hand-made, because though I aspire to be crafty and cool, it rarely turns out as well as I plan, but don't be surprised if I hit a patch of genius this year, and you're the recipient. :)  But I digress.  The catch is, you have to pay it forward.  Let the games begin!

The Handbook

"Dear Mr. B,

Please don't send me to Mrs.Larson.  I am sorry and don't tell her how behave she yelled at us how do you think that feels.  Would you like it?  As her if she will like it. And plus I'm going tell my dad to take my hole family to, go ,to, a different school. And for your imfermation we girls cry because you are sometime torchering us and we don't like it. No ofence.but you're very rude sometimes."

This girl was sent to Ms. Larson's room after a second infraction of appropriate classroom behavior.  Ms. Larson started her career teaching in inner-city Memphis, so she doesn't really take crap from anyone.  This young woman came back to my room sobbing - She couldn't really even talk.  (The crying comment in the letter is because another girl broke down into tears later in the day and I was lamenting the fact that I have such emotional girls in my room.)

I had another girl who came to school on Friday after having seen her parents carted off to jail the night before.  She didn't want to go to power hour, so I let her just sit in my room and read, though I almost wanted to send her to power hour.

In these moments I realize how hard it must be to be a parent sometimes.  Where's the line between tough love and a little TLC?  I almost felt bad for the first girl when she was crying so hard she couldn't even talk to me, but I realize that sometimes you need to be brought to tears for a change to be made.  With the second girl I thought, well she's at school so she might as well be doing what the rest of us are doing, but for crying out loud!

So, all you parents out there, here's a chance give those of us who are a little less experienced an insight or two.  What are your thoughts on this?  When do you let it slide, and when do you take a "spare the rod, spoil the child" approach?

Random facts

1.3 million Earths could fit inside the Sun.

Since the 21st of December, the days have been getting longer.  A sunrise/sunset chart in my room graphically displays this most pleasing phenomenon.

3 third graders decided this week to spray on a bunch of cologne to knock out their asthmatic teacher.  They are now suspended.

Ms. Larson is SO GOOD at making kids cry.  She saved my day today.

Rounding is hard for 8-yr-olds.  As is distinguishing among lines, rays, and line segments, and remembering how to behave in the library.

Punxetawny Phil did, in fact, see his shadow. *sigh*

A short conversation:

1: Hey, let's go over by Carlos.

2: I'm not going by that hideous beast!

Careful what you ask:

Me: Have any of you visited your grandparents and seen old toys they used to play with?

Student: Yeah!  My grandma had this really old toy.  It was kind of a worm and when you squeeze it, it lights up!

If you traveled to the Sun at 60 mph, it would take 177 years to get there.