Random Thought Thursday 5-22-08

Is it Thursday again already? How time flies when the school year is almost over!

Now that I've started, I can't remember any of the most scathingly brilliant ideas I had to write about. But at least I can still end sentences with prepositions without even thinking it over.

Today was awards day. I only gave three. I teach three subjects, you know. So I figured that was enough. The highest percent all year, that was my criteria. I'm not one of those lily-livered touchy-feely namby-pamby I'm OK-you're OK nurturers who try to make an award for everybody. That's not how I roll.

Yesterday, I came down with a touch of road rage. I have to make a right turn from a service road across a divided highway every day on my way home. There's a traffic light. I wait my turn, because there is a sign that says "No Right Turn On Red." There's another sign that says "Left Turn Yield On Green." That one is on the opposing traffic side as well. I know, because I travel that service road in both directions throughout my fun-filled week. At least once a week, some yahoo will try to beat me when the light turns green. That means the yahoo across from me darts across in front and up onto the highway, while I am in the middle of my lawful right turn on green. Even if I've been sitting there with my right-turn signal on since before the yahoo drove up across from me. Do they not understand what 'yield' means? It is a pain to slam on my squealing LSUV brakes on that inclined approach to cross the highway, just to avoid killing a fool in a little tin cannish sports car. Those little sports cars ain't all they're cracked up to be, if they can't beat my LSUV off the mark. I'm mad as heck and I ain't gonna take it any more. I blast my loud LSUV horn to show my displeasure. I mean...to warn them that I might not be able to stop. They make my blood boil.

Is it unprofessional to hope that a lot of kids stay home tomorrow? Because we're not doing anything. Really. The kids have an early dismissal. And we have to have grades in the system by noon. But then we have to stay from 1:00 to 3:00 to put in our work day time. Am I the only one who sees something not quite right about this? We can't work on grades. We have to traipse about the long, long building gathering initials so we can check out. It's kind of like a professional scavenger hunt. Turn in core competencies and get initials. Turn in IEPs and get a different one. Profession Development? That's somebody else. Pay your debts? Someone entirely different. Oh, and the principal wants your keys and your gradebook. WAIT A MINUTE! We don't have gradebooks anymore. That could throw the monkey wrench in the ointment for some people. Thank the Gummi Mary, I have taken tender loving care of My Old Red Gradebook all year. She ain't what she used to be...but she exists. I'm thinking it's an old checkout form we're using. I might need to print an extra set of grade reports. The counselor took mine before she would initial for me early. I thought the ones in the computer were hers, but she took my hard copy.

I have counted beans over the last few days. Technically, that's texts, chairs, desks, computers, bookshelves, file cabinets, printers, dvd players, VCRs, tables, rolling carts, clocks, dictionaries, resource books, and anything personal you want to toss in, like mini-fridge and microwave, just in case, you know, there's a disaster and all is lost and if you survive, you want to be reimbursed.

Mr. H told me that his 'little duty' in the event of a disaster is Public Relations. I laughed in his face. "When the reporter sticks a microphone in your face and asks you to assess the situation, I can see you flapping your arms wildly and screaming, 'We're all going to DIE!' " He agreed. He said that I should be in charge of Public Relations, because I was so cool when I handed out my three awards. I snorted. "I can't be Public Relations. My 'little duty' is to make sure everybody is out of the building. I have to do a room by room search on my end of the hall. And believe you me, every time we have a drill, I go over those rooms with a fine-toothed comb. Because you know how tricky the drill-holders can be. They HIDE kids under desks and in cabinets so when you leave them in there, they can say, 'YOU KILLED THEM! YOU DID NOT DO A THOROUGH SEARCH. They are just kids, and they depend on YOU for their SAFETY!' Hmpff! All you have to do is stand there in the midst of desolation and look pretty." Mr. H responded by demanding, "Smell my hand." There's more to that story. Maybe I'll tell you tomorrow. Maybe not.

There ends the slide show of snapshots of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's life.

The Bitter End

And now comes the time to put the "All About Mrs. Hillbilly Mom" test to bed. Whoa! Don't weep so loudly. A snot bubble might come out your nose. This final installment brings you the musings of "Vivian", who marches to her own drummer. I am thinking of hiring my own drummer to multi-task as bodyguard, should my restraining order against Vivian be violated. Here is Vivian's manifesto, aka her answers to my test. Remember, this test was all about ME. But methinks Vivian did not get the memo.

Another job I have had besides teacher is...stalkin' Vivian.

When not busy molding the minds of tomorrow's citizens, I like to...stalk Vivian.

The WORST thing you can do to make me mad enough to send you to the office is...say that Vivian is not my favorite.

What gift do I give the principal, secretary, and my best teacher friend every Christmas? a Vivian cardboard person.

What do I think of roller coasters? they remind me of Vivian's fast mind

What honor did I earn in high school? the honor of meeting Vivian

What organization elected me president when I was in high school? the We Love Vivian club

My husband recently built...a mannequin of Vivian

One time, I got really mad at my husband, and threw Vivian at him. After it hit him, he waved it in my face and said, "Thank you. I take that as a compliment."

At a family reunion, my husband bragged, "My son is really smart. He... knows everything about Vivian, and that's a lot to remember."

A new neighbor threatened to shoot my husband because... he dropped my cardboard cutout of Vivian.

I am embarrassed because my husband used a Vivian to build a lean-to on one side of the barn.


When the cargo door of my LSUV would not stay open, my husband gave me a Vivian to prop it up.


I think you can find a theme here. There were 52 questions. Vivian got 14 right. None of them are listed above.

They Should Be Comedians

Here are some more examples of my students' wit from the first annual Favorite for a Day test, entitled "All About Mrs. Hillbilly Mom." I will be sharing only two questions/answers today. Here now! Stop that whimpering. Two is as good as a feast.

One time, I got really mad at my husband, and threw _________ at him. After it hit him, he waved it in my face and said, "......... ." (The correct answer-roll of toilet paper- "Did you throw this?")

notebook-"Are you happy now?"

my kids-"Ha ha ha. Now we don't have kids anymore."

a fork or spoon-"You throw like a girl."

a sock-"It didn't hurt."

blowdryer-"HA!"

book-"Good shot."

tissues-"TISSUES!"

a phone-"Stop."

fist-"You're weak."

bullets-"I'm Superman!"

turtle-"Don't go there, Girlfriend!"

a kid-"You killed him."

a can good-"Ha ha. It's mine now."

rocks-"Nice try!"

pencil-"Loser."

stapler-"Why did you do that for?"

acid to burn his skin-"I will kill you."

frying pan-"Can I have some ice?"

a dog-"Wash the dog."

brush-"In your face."

a hairbrush-"Ha ha. That did not hurt."

sponge-"You throw like a girl."

an object-"How do you like those apples?"

a turtle-"HEY!"

At the family reunion, my husband bragged, "My boy is really smart. He...."

won the science fair.

almost has 100 % IQ.

got straight A's.

made his Wiimote work on his computer.

got bullied by a nerd.

knows a lot.

can breakdance.

can chew gum and walk at the same time.

is a geek.

fell and broke his arm.

knows stuff.

is smart.

got it all from me.

Tomorrow, I will share one test that was very, very different.

Testing, Testing...

I gave my 'Favorite for a Day' test today. It wasn't for real points--just for participation. The results were quite interesting. Out of 52 questions, the high score was 38. The other winning scores were 35, 34, 34, 30. The lowest score was 0. There was only one of those, but about eight kids scored 5. My #1 son took it himself last night, and he didn't even know all the answers.

Mabel took a copy. If you haven't answered yours yet, Mabel, don't read on. You will have unfair advantage. Here are some of the more humorous answers.

If not a teacher, I would be...(the correct answers were lawyer, writer, comedian)
ditch-digger (I'm strong)
turd tank cleaner (I can't smell)
scientist (I'm a genius)
singer (they obviously haven't heard me sing)
doctor (who sells malpractice insurance?)
bum (such a vote of confidence)
clown (I concur)
pilot (I'm afraid of heights)
cop (that would be work)
astronaut (that heights thingy again)
janitor (an honest night's word)
racecar driver (too many speeding tickets, I guess)
scuba diver (I feel claustrophobic already)
hobo (a bum on a train)
billionaire (now you're talkin')
Ray Charles impersonator (umm...not sure where this came from)
nurse (I'd be technically proficient despite certain attitude issues)
acrobat (I can't see it)
dancer (don't think so--at least they didn't specify 'lap')
model (I'm OH SO PRETTY)
actress (I am good at acting like they don't drive me crazy)
engineer (toot toot--definitely not the bridge-building kind)
bull rider (9 seconds is entirely too long to work)
skater (I broke my arm at 9 while roller skating around Grandpa's house)

What honor did I earn in High School? (correct answer-valedictorian)
a diploma (wow--what an honor)
geekest (I could see it)
Val of Victorian (a right famous wench, I was)
most smartest (yep)
saludivictorian (perhaps--it sounds important)
none (another vote of confidence)
honorable discharge at graduation (has a bit of a negative connotation)
saluet victorian (salute me, darn it!)
nerdiest (I think we covered this)
most talkative (what are you saying?)
perfect attendance (not even a diploma?)

My favorite joke about me is 'You are so old....' (right answers-your Social Security number is '1' OR if somebody told you to act your age, you'd die)
you saw the dinosaurs (no, we did not co-exist)
you rode dinosaurs not saddled right to school (and my mama dressed me funny)
yes, you are (no need to get personal)
you look wrinkley (hey! no need to get personal, I said)
you act young (spoken like a true favorite)
you are skin and bones (don't I wish)
you have no friends (that hurts)
you saw Jesus (no, just the Gummi Mary)
you make my Great Grandma feel young (say 'hi' to Gammy)
we just stopped counting (what, the breaths I have left?)
that your face makes ME look old (sorry about that)
end of story (I'm as good as dead, it appears)

What gift do I give the principal and secretary and my best friend Mabel every Christmas...(correct answer-Chex mix)
cards (logical)
a donut (I'm cheap, it seems, and they all have to share)
cookies (too much work)
Lotto tickets (good guess)
a kiss under the mistletoe (that is not allowed at school)
gum (heh, heh. That's what I give the kids as prizes)
socks (I'm not your grandma)
money (I like to keep that for myself)
box of Skittles (not very festive for the season)
Flubber (this is not your Christmas wish list)
a candy cane (too simple)
a kiss on the cheek (that's how rumors get started)
macaroni and cheese (I am not a cook)
snow globe (it's the thought that counts)
cheap ones (that's a black mark on my character, by cracky!)

That is all we have time for tonight. More tomorrow. Please come back. Please.

Of Course It's About ME

I am giving my students a test tomorrow. It is the long-awaited 'Favorite For A Day' test. It will reward the student in each class who has patiently indulged my boring stories from Day 1 until now. A prize package will be awarded to each winner. They are hyped up about it. I have been promoting the big event for three weeks now. You know, just in case those who tune me out in favor of carving 'Spike is gay' on the metal desk, or putting on make-up that would shame a trollop, wish to quiz me on personal specifics. The testees (heh, heh) will be rewarded with participation points and a piece of gum if they answer the test without being hurtful. A sense of humor is encouraged in case an answer escapes them. Let the best favorite win, I say.

The students who daily proclaim themselves to by my favorites are shaking in their thongs. Not buttless underwear thongs--the feet kind. I'm that old. Flip-flops used to be called thongs, people! Why use two words when you can use one? I'll back up that argument with 'manpurse' instead of 'European carryall'. Back to the regular favorites, who are nice kids who listen, but not necessarily good at storing facts and regurgitating them on tests. The kids who will see more success on this favorite test are likely the kind who will grow up to be stalkers.

I was a bit worried that the students who go to a resource room for test-taking would have an unfair advantage. Then I decided that while the teachers there may know personal information about me, they have not been held captive in my classroom to hear many of the stories to which my dear readers are also privy. Heh, heh. I said 'privy'. That's another word for 'outhouse' around here.

Unfortunately, I can't post the test for y'all to try your luck. Unless I change the names to preserve my status in the Blogger Protection Program.

This week will fly by.
Monday, we have the Favorite For A Day test.
Tuesday is the trip to the zoo incentive/finals day.
Wednesday, I will crown the favorites, award prizes, and show a movie.
Thursday is the awards assembly and not much else.
Friday is an early out and graduation.

The school year is almost over, you know!

But I Wanted A Pony

I am incensed. Well, I was on Thursday night. The burn has slowed a bit. Let's get right to the details, while it's still smoldering.

The #1 son had a choir concert that he had to attend at 7:00, or lose 600 points and have to do a long test to make it up. I had to go to the school board meeting, as Science Fair placers were being honored. They did this last year, except that nobody from Newmentia entered, and the sole honorees were my son and his partner, who placed 1st in the Middle School Physics division. Flash to this year: we took 13 kids from grades 6-12, and ALL FREAKIN' 13 of them placed. So you'd expect all of them to be honored, right? Helloooo? I'm talking to you. Don't let your mind wander.

I asked the #1 son all week if he'd heard anything about it. He and his partner again won 1st Place in the Middle School Physics division this year, and a 6th grader received Honorable Mention, which is like 4th place. There were 16 entrants in that category, so this was a big deal to them. My boy said he hadn't heard anything, but I was sure this was something that would be sprung on him at the last moment, like the day of, which is how it usually goes in Basementia. I had already promised two of my students a ride from the meeting in Basementia to the concert, which was being held at Newmentia. I even asked my principal if ALL the winners were being honored, or if it was just for High School. "It's for all of them," he told me. I added that my boy had heard nothing about it, and he said, "Well, they were invited."

After school, the #1 son got off the bus at Newmentia, and informed me that he didn't have to go, because he asked his principal, and was told, "No. We're just honoring Students of the Month and FCCLA." Hmm... We went to my mom's house to save a trip home, and #1 said he was riding with me anyway to catch a ride to the concert, because he didn't know when his dad would get there. Here's where it gets interesting.

Because a lot of people were coming, the meeting had been moved to Basementia's gym. We parked out front to make a quick getaway, and #1 went to see if the door was unlocked. It was, so he motioned me to come on. It's an old building, made of slick concrete blocks and wooden bleachers. It has an echo. We heard, "Welcome. Come on in." As we rounded the corner, we saw that we were the first to arrive. #1's principal was the only one there. He gave us an odd look. Like we didn't belong. We sat on the back row, again, planning an early escape. The kids were supposed to be at the concert by 6:45. My principal assured me that the honoring would only take 10-15 minutes. I knew better.

The boy and I got a fit of giggles. He whispered, "He thinks you're going to make a scene." I told him I wished he had put on the tie he was going to wear to the concert, and he could sit there with his hands in praying position, and jump up when it was announced that Science Fair winners were being recognized. Then we started riffing on possible scenarios:

After they've announced all of our winners, I want you to cry a single tear down your cheek, like that garbage Indian from the 1970s. (That was back before we called them Native Americans, and it was acceptable.)

Look. Your principal is talking to mine. They're whispering. I bet he's saying, "Why are they here?" Can you read lips?
Maybe. Except their backs are to us. I'm not a miracle worker.

There's Mrs. C. Hey, he's signing something. I bet it's our awards.
I guarantee they are Mrs. C's awards.

Mr. G is printing something on his laptop. Maybe it's our awards.
He's not printing. He's putting those pictures up on the screen. Where's he going to print?

Hey! I'll go up and say, "I have pictures on my phone from the Science Fair if you want to use them. That'll make them feel bad.

I know. I'll go up to your principal, and say, "Oh, are you giving your kids Science Fair awards, too?"

Maybe they can download some really quick from Certificates 'R' Us.

When they call the last of the High School kids up, you can stand up like you think you're next.

Make a big scene, Mom.
No thanks. I like my job.

Have dad call him, and say, "The last man to mess with ME had to pay $2500 for bond and a lawyer."

I'll leave you sitting here after everyone has left. As they turn out the lights, say, in a pitiful voice, "Is it time for my award now?" Like Ralph Wiggums.

The shindig started at 6:00. A bunch of students of the month were awarded, from the entire year, with quotes about why there were chosen. Then the FCCLA sponsor introduced her kids, to perform a 3-act skit. Then my principal gave awards to some vo-tech students. Then he announced that the science teachers were giving their Science Fair certificates. Which was news to me, because never had he once said I even had to be there, and most certainly had not told me that I would be presenting. Or my colleague, either. We muddled through some unprepared remarks, which wasn't too hard, because hey, we're teachers, and we know how to think on our feet. We finished at the stroke of 6:40, and I rounded up my boy and the students to hit the road to the concert. #1 said, "Mom! Didn't you see me? I was waving to you and pointing at myself. Why didn't you mention US?" Which kind of broke my heart.

Although the partner was not present, the 6th grader WAS there, because his sister got an award for FCCLA. I imagine it was a bit hurtful for them to see the high schoolers recognized while they were not. Could I have mentioned them? Not without committing professional suicide. What if they had come up front? There were no certificates for them. They weren't mere certificates, but were signed by the principal and the school board and the teacher, and were in nice black glass-fronted frames. Even by mentioning their names, it would have been brought up in front of the school board that some students were honored, while other students just as deserving were left out. And in all my years of teaching, at a variety of schools, there is one thing I have learned. If you make the principal look bad, it will come back to bite you in the butt 1000 times. It was not my place to recognize students that were not MY students, even though I was at the Science Fair with them all day, on a day off school, after they had worked hard preparing a project on their own time. As opposed to the Students of the Month, whose only requirement was to breathe, and be voted on by some teachers. Not that I am saying they didn't deserve to be recognized...only that those little Science Fair kids deserved it as well.

This whole situation had me spittin' mad by the time I got to the concert. I told HH. I said, "Every time #1 walks by, put your finger up under your eye and drag it down your cheek like the garbage Indian tear. He'll know what you mean." We did it when he walked out to sit in the bleachers. We did it when he came off the risers. We did it when he went back for an encore of the school song. After the concert, the boy said, "I will never look at you again!" Huh. He was laughing about it each time. All he had to do was look away. He knew we were going to do it.

HH is very put out. He called a higher-up on Friday, but the higher-up was out of the office for the day. HH did not leave a message. He is calling back on Monday to raise the issue. He threatened to call two of the board members, but I discouraged that tactic. HH said, "I know what he'll say. "Why didn't Mrs. Hillbilly Mom say something about it?" And I'll just tell him, "It's not her building, and it's not her students. She didn't want to get involved." Which is exactly the truth. It will be taken out on my sweet #1 when it all finishes rolling downhill, anyway. But it's not right, by cracky! Someone has to go to bat for these kids.

I suspect that somebody simply forgot about the Science Fair awards, and didn't want to admit it. All he had to do was say, on that day when asked, "Oh. I forgot. I'm going to give those awards the last day of school, at the award assembly." That would have sufficed. But don't ignore these kids, and think nobody will say anything. You can award kids for going to a regional Spelling Bee, but not for winning a regional Science Fair? I'm sure it was not intentional, but it was a crucial public relations faux pas.

What kind of world is this? I though we were still in the namby-pamby, touchy-feely, I'm OK-you're OK, everybody's a winner world of rainbows and unicorns, and that we were all getting ponies when BObama is elected President.

Does this mean no ponies?

Random Thought Thriday, 5/16/08

I must combine Thursday and Friday. It's the least I can do. I was in no mood to sit down some more and type when I got home last night. I needed a recliner. Needed it bad. There's a good story there, but it will have to wait until Saturday. Random thoughts are percolating.

Funny thing, all the way through Elementia, my kids did not sing actual Christmas carols at the Christmas Program. I assumed it was because we can't reference religion, in case some patron might find it offensive. Never mind that Halloween became 'Fall Festival' because the religious people were offended. Like playing the race card in the Presidential Election, it apparently is a swinging door that works only one way. Imagine my surprise at the 90-minute choir concert last night when every single song was religious or in a foreign language or in Latin or was written by the instructor. All except a medley from Queen. Figure that one out.

Students are trying to get my goat. Or to be specific, they have succeeded in getting my Puffs With Aloe right off my desk. I'm not one of those teachers (like Mabel's old buddy) who refuse to buy tissues, and plop a roll of school toilet paper on their desks for noseblowing. No. Only the best for MY kids--Puffs With Aloe. And what thanks do I get? The heathens who have no honor swiped them to stuff into their Egg Drop containers (due today) that they created on the spur of the moment from a school milk carton and MY TISSUES.

I'm incensed about a lack of recognition for my little genius regarding a major accomplishment. More on THAT tomorrow. I know Mabel will have my back.

The Mansion has been invaded by creepy crawlies. It must be all the rain. Just this morning, as I plopped down on the (ahem) throne, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Black on white. A black CRICKET in my white shower. That is OH SO WRONG. I hate crickets with a passion. They jump, people. Just when you think, "Aha! I've got you now!" they jump. I nabbed him with a wad of toilet paper. The good kind that bears use in the woods. I dropped him in the toilet, and before I could flush, he jumped up on the side. I slammed down the lid and flushed for all I was worth. I checked all up under the seat and sides. I think I got him. But I don't like the thought of sitting down and having him lurking below my nether regions. Oh, but he had a guest. When we got home this evening, the #1 son went out through the laundry room door to the back porch to look at Poolio. I feared that Poolio was getting too full of himself from all the rain. The boy came back in and shut the door. I glanced down, and saw, a single millimeter (I can judge a millimeter, people--I'm a science teacher, you know) from my son's foot, a big ol' hairy spider. It was about the size of a silver dollar, mostly black or gray with a yellow threaded pattern around his legs. I screamed, "WATCH OUT!" That scared two years' growth out of the young whippersnapper. Then he saw the spider. He squealed like a schoolgirl. I said, "Get it!" He whimpered, "I can't." Geez. How's he ever going to capture a wife? At least he knows how to program a VCR and set the thermostat.

I know somebody who's getting married. We're not close. I'm not even going. But I think it is a case of a true-life 40-year-old virgin. Really.

The head of the future cooks and cleaning ladies of America handed out Egg Babies yesterday. How thoughtful of her to coincide with my Egg Drop contest of today. Oh, the humanity! One of my students accosted me in the hall after school to ask if I wanted to be the God Aunt of her fowl offspring. I asked if it would cost anything. This sponsor is a whiz at making money out of nothing. In fact, the kids say they leave their Egg Babies in the 'daycare' in her room during school so they don't break them. I'm sure this daycare is not free. Anyhoo, I was assured that it would cost me anything. The student was gone today with some activity. I made a hat with a cotton-ball tuft, a matching purple polka dot dress, and a fancy schmancy gift box with a purple bow. OK. So they were all made out of copy paper and a dry-erase marker and a cotton ball left over from an Egg Drop container. It's the thought that counts.

Some people have too much time on their hands.