Drivers

Let me explain to you one of my pet peeves.

Yes, I have more than one. In fact, I rather think that listing them all would take more time and energy than I have inclination. They are from the mundane (people who can't put carts away) to rather seriously annoying (the America 'public's' view of education and teachers in general). I could lecture for hours on just sthose things.

But I digress.

We're just going to talk about one.

Drivers.

People who are supposedly well versed enough to earn a license in their given state and have enough funds to purchase a vehicle.

This does not mean that they know how to drive.

Let me explain to all of you out there who aren't so sure about the most important item to be used in driving a car - the gas pedal. It is not the break. It's the gas. Gas means go. When you drive on a freeway, you use the GAS so that you GO. You do not use the breaks. You use the GAS so that you GO. The speed limit on our main highway from the city is 70. The average idiot uses the BREAK more than the GAS and does not GO 70. Most go 60.

Fine.

I get it. Not everyone likes to GO. I know I have a lead foot. I believe if going is good, GOING is better. Not everyone wants to GO like I do. Not everyone clearly knows where they are going.

Here is my hint for today and I'm not even going to change for this simple piece of advice.

If you are not going to GO, do not drive in the left lane. Do NOT toddle along, humming happily to yourself in the left lane. The left lane is only for those who wish to GO. I should not have to speed around you on the right. Really. In fact, in case you missed it, most highways have this cunning little sign that says 'Slower traffic move right'. If you are not going my speed, YOU ARE SLOWER. Therefore you are supposed TO DRIVE ON THE RIGHT.

I do not think these are hard concepts.

Perhaps I'm wrong, but I don't think so.

Just remember to drive on the right unless you're passing and we'll all be okay.

You Capture - Friends

So I've been wanting to join a Blogroll/Carnival for a bit of time - especially the photography memes because I love taking pictures.

I found this one through the winners of the BlogLuxe Awards (first posted at Cake Wrecks). It's called You Capture from I Should be Folding Laundry. I decided I had to enter the theme this week - Friends. Monkey Boy is such a good friend to people that he takes great pictures. Not all of these are taken by me, but all deserve a place of recognition!

Once you're done looking, please head over to I Should Be Folding Laundry and check out all the other links - they're great!

Here is Monkey Boy playing on the rocks with BF (Monkey Boy would like to be adopted by his family, but I'm holding out for a bigger pay off! *g*)


Here again are Monkey Boy and the BF. This is the bus ride home after a school field trip. They had had their first sleep over the night before and neither had slept well. So of course the bus makes a great place to sleep.



And sometimes the best friends are the ones you are related to. The Monkey Boy and his Cousin:

They are both involved in their DSes. You'd never know they were related would you?!


Thanks for looking! Be sure to stop by and see the rest of what I Should be Folding Laundry is sharing!

Cricut

I am borrowing a Cricut from a very very very nice coworker for the week. She has willingly allowed me to bring it into my home and cut apart things to my little heart's content. There is nothing so blissful to a teacher as freshly cut apart pieces of paper. It makes it palpatate with please.

Bum bumbum bum bumbum.

I love loading it and see things come out all beautifully trimmed.

We did have to have a serious discussion about recognizing exactly which buttons I am pressing and that I am speaking about things it must do and am not to be disobeyed.

The most amusing thing - other than not having to cramp my fingers with scissors to get each and every piece cut out and when you have 24 students on average - you have a lot of cutting to do - is Delusional's reaction to this piece of machinary.

First of all, Delusional would like to think he's a person. This of course is not true. I know this because I know few people who walk on all fours, meow and have fur (and if you are one of them, I don't think we should talk).

Second of all, Delusional, if human, would be certifiable. Paranoid would merely be on lots of large pills and have a small place to sit and rock and hum until he felt better. Delusional is just... he's the Joker of the cat world without all the guns and explosions.

Thirdly, Delusional considers all machines that move back and forth and spit things out to be scary and his mortal enemy. I don't think they wear capes and leather, but I don't pay too much attention at night. They must be watched. And stalked. One cannot nap when they are working. One must watch them at all times. Delusional actually got up the MOMENT I turned on the machine and sat just out of its reach and watched suspiciously until it ceases.

If it continues, I may just pin him down to the sticky board and see if it works on cats just to know how paniced he will get....

*evil cackling ensues*

School

Contrary to what you are thinking, I'm not going to write about the school for my children, but the school I am attending.

Somewhere along the past year, I lost my mind.

Not literally - that happened eons ago. In fact, I am not sure I ever had one. I'll have to examine that fact.

Needless to say, in the past year I somehow managed to lose my grasp on reason. How can I tell? I signed up for a summer class.

Not just any class, but one wherein I actually I have to work. It's one thing to take one of those summer classes where you kind of slough off and do a little bit of work and pretend that you are paying attention to the online discussion in a random sort of way. It's easy, you end up with clock hours and renew your license and then go on your merry little way - cackling at the A you received for merely living and breathing.

I didn't go that route. Oh no.

I decided that I wanted to earn something new - an additional license. Oh for joy.

So instead I get these horrendous long things I have to read and process (ick) and have to read and write about an extra book. It's work. Darn it all. Lots of work.

I hate work.

Tell me again - why did I do this to myself?

Is it over yet?!

Good Morning to You

Morning. I'm not sure there is much good about it.

I believe it all depends on how one is awoken.

To truly have a good morning, one must slowly climb from slumber, blissfully leaving behind a world of dreams and darkness, to rise and stretch. The alarm clock is turned off before it even comes on and you smile bright and awake and ready for another brilliant day.

This is not how it works around here.

Oh no - that would be asking far far too much.

My morning resembles something closer to The Exorcist combined with Lion Tamers and Barney.

Truly.

It all begins sometime around the ever so unglorious hour of 6am when Monkey Boy decides he is awake. Instead of being that lovely agreeable child and rolling over in his own bed and attempting to return to sleep, he decides that being awake means he should visit his mom's bed. Therefore he exits his room and enters mine, crawling into the bed and promptly draping himself all over me.

I am now awakened from a glorious dream about some hot guy named Nick who's desperately in love with me and proposing.... Before all the good stuff. Sigh.

But far be it from me to begrudge the Monkey space in the bed.

So we all settle down and attempt to return to something resembling slumber.

This would be the cue for Delusional to enter the bed. His thought process reads something like 'Extra human in bed. Extra hand to pet. Must snuggle very close.' So he promptly plops himself down on top of the Monkey and begins the process of licking until the Monkey gives him proper attention and petting that he is certain he deserves.

For the Monkey, proper attention involves picking up the cat and heaving it off the bed.

For me, it means hiding further under the covers and praying for the dreams to resume.

Delusional, in typical I'm a cat and therefore should have my way fashion, repeats the process all over again, certain the first toss off the bed was a complete mistake.

When I'm finally whimpering and begging for a chance to gather a bit more sleep, I collect Delusional and pin him down wherein he proceeds to lick ME until I pet him therefore completing ruining any chance of further sleep as who can sleep with rough cat tongue being slathered hither and yon.

Finally sated, certain both Monkey and myself are awake, Delusional deserts the bed to chase Paranoid who just happens to be strolling through the room. This gives Monkey the chance to drape himself over me, snuggling tightly to my neck to be sure that I don't actually drift off to sleep once more.

Just as I manage to figure out how to sleep while having my windpipe crushed by a limpet Monkey, he boldly announces that he's off to play his DS.

Once more I am completely awake as the occupants of the bed shift until it is just me. Blissful once more, I settle back down, pulling up the covers, eyes closing, dreams of the hunky guy returning as I feel myself fall back into slumber....

And the alarm goes off.

So, explain to me again, why we call it a good morning?

Flickr Update

Monkey Boy has new Pictures! Enjoy the summer set!

The art of the Nap

Everyone thinks that naps for for babies or small fluffy animals.

I beg to disagree.

Naps are for all ages and sizes and should be mandatory in school through at least high school. I would be so much better at my job with the guarantee of 30 minutes of recharging on a daily basis. Who wouldn't do a better job? My students could have uninterrupted quiet time. Of course the argument for something like that would be insane since most parents fear even allowing snack or any break from regimented academics. But then, few parents understand the taxing adventure that is school these days. Most assume we either play for 90% of the time and color for the rest or have no idea how one manages one seven year old much less a classroom of 22 of them - all with different needs, desires, wants and levels of parental input into their lives.

But that alone is a rant for another day and time.

Today is about the Nap.

A blissful mid-day or mid morning period.

Time to recharge. To snuggle into your couch and have a touching bonding moment with its fabric and cushions.

To investigate the inside of one's eyelids for light leaks.

To feel the heaviness of a cat lounging on top of your suddenly still and stable body, purring in hopes that you might barely open your eyes or move just enough to pet the stupid furry thing.

To feel the tug of a small child who seems to have forgotten all abilities that belonged to it in the morning to whinge about the need for Koolaid or some other beverage.

To dream scarily of Martha Stewart remolding your bedroom with a sledgehammer and a blowtorch because the television was left on.

Ah - the nap.

But at least one awakens somewhat recharged with a new perspective on why one get's a better sleep at night.

And what does Monkey Boy do when I attempt to nap? This:

Why yes... he does play a Nintendo DS with his feet.

Only An Optimist Would Think This is fun...

The story of a single mom, one brilliant little boy and two anxiety ridden cats.

I may be single, but am never alone.

This is the journey of my life entwined with theirs as I teach, am taught and take no prisoners.