Empty Fridg-i-dater

I'm lucky that SergeantDad keeps the lines of communications open with me while I work. Throughout the day he sends me little emails about what's happening at home, who's doing what, and how the kids are behaving. Today I got a pretty amusing email at 11:02 am. I will share for your enjoyment.

"hey they just came with the new fridge hookin it up now. collin is being a little bit ornery. and hes getting on my nerves at the moment. he wont stay out of the way. and just screamed at the lowes guy for eating all the food out of the new fridg-i-dater. "

This last part had me almost in tears, because I could just picture my little boy, standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips, yelling at this poor Lowes man for eating all the food in the 'fridg-i-dater' while the Lowes man looks back in wide-eyed disbelief! This child is a firecracker...but at least he's a funny one!

Look at me, look at me, look at me, NOW....

I fear my child has become a showboat. Although I'd like to blame it on the recent changes like the birth of his sister and my returning to work, those changes have been in effect for well over six months, and his desire to be the center of attention continues. Granted he is funny, but perhaps our constant laughter at his jokes and antics has only perpetuated the madness.

Most recently, he has started interrupting adult conversations simply to show off a drawing, lego creation or one of his many new 'tricks'. It grates on my nerves.

I think it irritates me so much because it reminds me of a certain student I have, let's call her Layla for arguments' sake (and to save my arse from any complaining parents.) Layla has absolutely no self control. In the middle of class she blurts out whatever comes to her mind, interrupts me when I'm talking to both students and adults, and generally makes wildly inappropriate comments.

In the latest Layla escapade, I had noticed on Friday while waiting for her bus to be called, she was insisting other students read a story she had written in a green notebook. I had given her verbal warnings twice that same week for writing in the notebook in class, but had assumed it was schoolwork. Anyhow, I overheard Kaia and Colton (*names have been changed, as usual), the two students reading her story, expressing their disgust at the subject matter. Before I could step in, Layla's bus was called and she was out the door, but only after screaming for Sal to "COME ON, LET'S GO!" because she just can't control herself. *sigh*

After she was gone the students approached me to vent/gripe/complain/hope I would do something about the inappropriate material that was in the story. Surprisingly enough, they were too embarrassed to tell me what was in the story but would only say it was "perverted" and "something you would find in a certain mens magazine." Yikes! The fact that these 14 year olds, who normally have no reservations sharing things that make me blush daily, wouldn't share the details was startling!

So I dropped a quick email to her team, our 8th grade administrator Mrs. B, and our guidance counselor, Ms.H. and their advice was for the homeroom teacher Mrs. C. to take the notebook on Monday morning. Monday morning rolled around, and Mrs. C saw the notebook instantly, she went to confiscate it, but not before Layla could tear a page out of it. Mrs. C demanded the page, and received it only to discover the "disturbingly, inappropriate story." I can't wait to get with Ms. H and read it for myself!

In the end, because of her IEP, administration chose to issue a guidance referral for sharing the story with other students, as opposed to a discipline referral. Throughout the day, though, Layla was relentless with all of her teachers, disrupting class insisting she had to go to the discipline office. It's ALL about her.

And so, this is my fear, with my own son. I don't want Collin to grow up with a look at me, I'm the center of the world, it's all about me attitude. I don't want my child to be the 14-year-old that writes a graphic sex story just to get the attention of his peers. I don't want my child to be the kid that teachers grit their teeth and gossip in the teacher's lounge over. So, I'm determined to stop the behavior in it's tracks...now if I could only figure out how.

Check It Out Yo

I don't know much about 'blogiquette' or how many times per day one should blog, but I don't give a rooty poo, because this blog is for me, my family, my children, and chronicling all the wacky things that happen in our lives. Something wacky just happened, so I shall chronicle.

Collin was playing with PlayDoh earlier, because he recently got a bunch of new molds and toys and things. Well, I guess he made a butterfly from a mold and he runs over saying "Mommy, Check it out Yo! I made this super rad butterfly." Um, thank you very much stereotypical 1992 skateboarder Collin.

Stupendous Sounds Like Stupid

How bout that phonological awareness?

Ok, so I'll spare you the literary jargon, and get to the point of my story. Yesterday Mia awoke from her nap and as usual the first thing she wanted to do was eat. So I nursed her, which took more effort than usual because, much to my dismay, she's become highly distractable, and nibbly. Afterwards, we sat on the bed playing. Naturally, Collin wanted to join us. He started jumping on the bed and she of course broke into a chorus of giggles. I made the comment "Mia, you're doing so great keeping your balance while Collin's jumping." Collin, my walking thesaurus, interjects "Actually, Mommy, she's doing stupendous." Ah, at barely three, you can already tell he's the child of a bibliophile.

I commented to him that I really liked the word he used, stupendous. He then says "You know, Stupendous sounds just like Stupid, but they don't say the same thing." While I was clearly impressed with his phonemic awareness (being able to hear the differences/similarities between sounds), and his ability to discern the meanings, I was displeased at his knowledge and use of the word "stupid." This is one of those words that he somehow got permission to use from SergeantDad and there's not a word I can say about it to him because "Daddy said it was fine to say, just not to people." So, for the record, Stupendous sounds like stupid, but don't say stupid to people.

On the teacher front, it's the countdown to FCAT Writes. I have knots in my stomach. My lessons for the next two weeks are so incredibly packed with information, and I hope at least half of it sinks in. Many of my students are still struggling to write coherent paragraphs and in just 12 school days they will have to write an entire essay. No pressure, TeacherMom, no pressure.

Preface: How I came to be TeacherMom

preface

Pronunciation:

\ˈpre-fəs\

Function:

noun

2: the introductory remarks of a speaker or author

In a book, the preface is the foreword, the back story, the catchup to the present. In a blog, it's all the little details you need just to figure out what the heck said blogger is talking about. In this instance, I, TeacherMom am the blogger who feels you, the reader, needs to know how we got here.

In the little town of Leesburg, on a crisp December morning in the cafeteria of Leesburg High School, TeacherMom, then known simply as Lindsay, met SergeantDad, formerly James. James and Lindsay hit it off and started dating. Their relationship was filled with the typical highs and lows of adolescent relationships that now make TeacherMom roll her eyes a little. However, they survived, and their relationship made it through the ultimate test of love; high school.

After graduating high school, TeacherMom, having known since birth she wanted to teach, made the arduous three hour journey to Florida State University. Though she adored this environment, the distance took a toll on her and SergeantDad's relationship, and the routine trips took a toll on both their wallets. In the end, TeacherMom moved back to the little town of Leesburg, where she continued her education at a nearby community college. Later that year, on their 5 year anniversary, TeacherMom and SergeantDad were married.

Having a knack for getting the ball rolling, five short months after their marriage began, TeacherMom and SergeantDad took the plunge into parenthood. It was not long after this that SergeantDad realized he needed to find a career, and chose corrections as his path. Collin Gregory was born on February 7, 2005. SergeantDad continued to juggle being a part time stay at home dad and work at the prison in the evenings, while TeacherMom worked as an assistant at a local middle school, continued her education at the University of Central Florida, and continued to be Mommy on her off-time.

Around the time SergeantDad was promoted and became a Sergeant, and TeacherMom was on her last year of schooling to become a Teacher, they were wide-eyed with shock at finding out baby number two was on her way. TeacherMom finally graduated from UCF, 2 months before Mia graduated from the womb, and the quest was on to find a job.

Despite laws preventing discrimination, Teachermom found that being a 9 month pregnant woman on the quest for a teaching job was quite a discriminatory process. With no luck, she prayed hard and vowed to not worry about a job until after baby Mia was born. So on the morning of July 17, 2007, TeacherMom went into labor, and was rushed to the Birth Center where baby Mia was born just 45 minutes after their arrival! They were all released to go home at noon.

That very day, as joyous as it was, Teachermom's heart was secretly heavy with worry, as she knew the school year was quickly approaching and she was still without work. Not one hour after arriving home with baby Mia, the phone rang. It was Principal B from a nearby middle school, hoping to get an interview with TeacherMom. Naturally, TeacherMom saw this as her answered prayer and interviewed 3 days later, scoring the job for 8th grade Reading Teacher.

So, since August, TeacherMom works fervently to improve her students' reading scores during the day, and be the best mom she can be during the evenings and weekends. SergeantDad stays at home during the day and keeps inmates in line in the evenings. It's an adventure that never ends.

And that is the story of how I went from being Lindsay to TeacherMom.