Friday, November 6, 2009

Counsel This

I don't think my counseling skills are at the level they should be. Anger management should not include folding your unfoldable glasses when you're just a little mad at your parents.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Think About It

There's something to this special ed way of playing TicTacToe. I'm thinking that I might like to play this version. Not sure why I like it, but I do. Anyway the students in room 105 like it this way. A lot.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

No Excuses

I have no excuses for not posting, 'cept the new job, and the wild clients, and my OCD son not adjusting to school, and a daughter who has entered junior high, and middle school students who write my name on the lunch tables(don't ask), and....and.....well, you know.

So, in the words of one of my colleagues, I may enter the world of Professional Bummism. I tried it out for fit at a recent Pittsburgh Pirate game. What do you think?
(Can you believe that people leave this shit in the parking lot???Can you imagine what that seat was like? Yeah, I thought of it well after I sat myself down in this chair.)

Tuesday, September 1, 2009


This is Alex. He is my special needs neighbor, and he and I have a lot in common. First of all, he loves to play games. My kids won't play games with me, so I have to borrow Alex, and he'll play Uno til you can Uno no more.

We also have "sportin" clothes in common. Alex always beats me in the sock department.

And, then there's this.....we have this in common too.

"Alex, I understand, really I do, but you have to resist, and put the gun down. It gets easier; I promise. Pretty soon the urge will almost be non-existent."
I love Alex.

Still not working for me.....

In our house, my children have carried on a horrible habit of falling asleep well after Hubby and I do. When they were younger they would stay in bed and watch TV, and now that they're older, they seem to come to our bedroom quite often between the time that Hubby and I go to bed and they fall asleep, which could be a difference of two hours.
Problem starts with gettin'g busy. We can't not find the time to get down, have fun, you know what I mean. If you don't have children you may not understand the inability to really enjoy yourself when you not sure if a child will come barrelling through your bedroom door.
Because one of our children is 8, and he still gets scared, we have an open door policy, unfortunately that seems to continue even if our door is closed for the few times that it is, and it's not like you can say, "Hey kids, tonite's the nite we're getting down, so keep out!" That's just freaky. To solve the problem, my husband put a lock on our door so when it is closed, for the five minutes we spare ourselves, no one will come in the room, interrupting us.
This worked well until recently, while when were in the midst of gettin' busy, I hear "p-ting, 'yes'!" This was coming from my son's room. Now it's his dad that should be saying, "Yes" or me or whoever is having the most fun at that moment, but it's not, it's coming from this little eight year old at 11:00 at nite in the next room.
Stifling my laughs, I try to get through our business, because all focus is now lost. When we're done and the bolt unlocked, I go into my son's room to find him lying on his back in his bed, shooting popcorn kernels straight up in the air, ricocheting them off the ceiling into a bowl on the floor.
Now I must admit that this takes talent. That this is what we've been waiting for, for him to entertain himself. For him to stay out of our bedroom. But I can't. I just can't get busy when there is a loud game of Popcorn Kernel Ball in the next room.
Plan B....MMMM....wonder if the third floor has a lock?

Sunday, August 30, 2009


To the gods of the CornHole and Pass the Pigs World, I am truly sorry. I beg your forgiveness. I now know that I was in error in my previous post, stating that you were deplorable, bumpkin games. I'm sorry for the following reasons. Do you see the picture above? Can you imagine the evening I had playing croquet looking very similar to the posted picture? Could I ever be forgiven for wanting my children to wear white shorts and navy collared shirts and give up Corn Hole and Pass the Pigs in order to play the above mentioned game? Alas, no.

I was thrilled, when at a recent family gathering, someone pulled out the Croquet game. I had not played the game since I was 15 years old. That's a lot of years. That's 24 years ago, and in all that time, my memory had forgotten the game, the pace and the rules. Not to fear, we had the rule Nazis with me!
You must understand my family. We provide a vast array of fun for all, and last nite was my time spent with the Hiram and Wellsely graduates. Me, humble sport that I am, graduated from a mere state school, and some of my family does not hesitate to remind me of this, but with pride I hold my head high.
The process began with one person setting the wickets up with a tape measure, then eyeing their line up then resetting the wickets and remeasuring.Lawsy Mercy.
The next step came with my young niece arguing incessantly with a much older family member, who has played longer than my niece has been breathing air. First she argued that one can accumulate strokes during the turn. Secondly she argued that one can not "send" another's ball. After carrying on for several minutes, she then realized that she was recalling the "British" rules. Are you serious? British rules? Dear stars in heaven.

Next came the discussions of Civil War theories (yes, I bet you didn't realize there are "theories" about that war, stick with me kids, you learn you something.....that is after I learn me something first) and then came talks of research and professors who "don't know what they're talking about" in all of their 60 years of life. Schnikes. Whatev. All this while others were measuring just how far the ball did make it through the wicket and wondering if it should count when there was still 1/8 " remaining of the ball lying under the wire wicket.
And so it went...needless to say, I lost, and I came to the conclusion that my children can play Corn Hole just as much as they please.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Hot For Principal

My husband never thought that he wanted me to be a principal, but now that I have recently obtained the position and school has started, he has a whole new fantasy. He's hot for principal. Now that just makes me hot for Curriculum Director, which is his title, but somehow that just doesn't sound so, well, hot.