5 things not to do with your nails wet...
For the first time in my life I have nails long and nice enough to keep painted. So I now I have learned- a little belatedly- how freaking hard it is to have nice nails.
1) Anything with your children- like any thing. Within this category I have personally experienced the following:
A sleeping baby will ALWAYS wake up the moment you finish painting your last pinky nail.
A child will ALWAYS have a poopy diaper, when you THINK your nails are dry.
An hour after you think your nails are dry- you will engage in a tickle fight that will ruin your
nails.
2) Don't wash your hands- You would think after a decent amount of time of "drying" that it would be ok to wash your hands. Liquid soap, water- nothing harsh about it. Yet, your nails look like a 2 year old who used a 3 inch paint brush did your nails.
3) Don't go to bed. Sheets are your worst enemy. WORST. ENEMY. EVA
4) Your pointer finger will sustain the worst damage from ANYTHING. You know how mom said not to point- maybe this is the reason.
5) Don't kiss your hubby- He will want more than a kiss and "more" will ruin said manicure.. lol
Monday, October 29, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Contradiction
So my last post was all about, I need something new, teaching is wearing me out, blah blah blah.
Then someone said something that unintentionally pissed me off. They insulted my job with out meaning too. They said something along the lines of "oh, you are a teacher? You don't get paid enough and all those Kia in one room, gah." I felt very defensive in that moment. It is like: you can talk bad about your siblings, but no one else can. Except I am an only child
Anyway, it really irked me, and made me realize that I really do like my job, I really do love my kids, and I rally don't want to go anywhere else. Not that I have the guts to leave my job and go else where anyway- I can be a big talker, I suppose.
So if you ready last blog, then the very next day saw my fb update and thought I was a little bipolar. It is ok, because I am.
I am here at a social studies conference getting amped about teaching in new ways. Sometimes we just need to be energized and renewed.
Then someone said something that unintentionally pissed me off. They insulted my job with out meaning too. They said something along the lines of "oh, you are a teacher? You don't get paid enough and all those Kia in one room, gah." I felt very defensive in that moment. It is like: you can talk bad about your siblings, but no one else can. Except I am an only child
Anyway, it really irked me, and made me realize that I really do like my job, I really do love my kids, and I rally don't want to go anywhere else. Not that I have the guts to leave my job and go else where anyway- I can be a big talker, I suppose.
So if you ready last blog, then the very next day saw my fb update and thought I was a little bipolar. It is ok, because I am.
I am here at a social studies conference getting amped about teaching in new ways. Sometimes we just need to be energized and renewed.
Monday, October 22, 2012
good teacher
You know that movie bad teacher? The one with the gorgeous Cameron Diaz. She really is a bad teacher. I thought watching that movie would piss me off, but I had a good laugh with it. I was able to take of my "teacher hat" and just enjoy.
That is a really strange and barely related introduction to the post that has to do with the ridiculousness that is my job. This is the first time since I have been teaching that I have wondered if this is the job for me? OK wrong question, this is definitely the job for me, but is it the job I want to do? Again- wrong question because I desperately want to do my job, and do it well. Maybe the question is Can I do this job any more?
I was telling my cousin this weekend, as his phone rang off the hook from his job, that it was such a blessing that no one calls me after I leave school to ask me to do my job some more. Sure, if I was a glutton for pain, I could check my e-mail. I am and I usually do. But it is not mandatory and no one expects me to do anything about the e-mail they send after hours until the next day. I take that back, there are a few crazies out there who can't understand why I cant provide a multiple choice make-up test the very next day when they e-mail me at 11 pm. But again- few and far between. Anyway, so I am watching him take these calls, most of which I feel if the person on the other line had tried, they themselves could have handled the task, and I realize there is no perfect job.
I could teach college, but the hours would suck in a different way. AND I would have to go to school to get my PhD. That would be way expensive. I have a girl friend who teaches the "teaching" class at her local high school. That seems like a really sweet deal.
I would love to work for a text book company, but no one is buying text books these days- I know we haven't had an adoption in 5 years. Our reading books are about 10 years old- at least. There is a lady who comes to our grant training, and shows us how to use the materials we purchased as a grant. She is a former teacher and seems to have a lot of fun.
In reality, I am not going anywhere. I am going to stay a teacher. Continue grading papers. Still disciplining, encouraging, and bonding.
That is a really strange and barely related introduction to the post that has to do with the ridiculousness that is my job. This is the first time since I have been teaching that I have wondered if this is the job for me? OK wrong question, this is definitely the job for me, but is it the job I want to do? Again- wrong question because I desperately want to do my job, and do it well. Maybe the question is Can I do this job any more?
I was telling my cousin this weekend, as his phone rang off the hook from his job, that it was such a blessing that no one calls me after I leave school to ask me to do my job some more. Sure, if I was a glutton for pain, I could check my e-mail. I am and I usually do. But it is not mandatory and no one expects me to do anything about the e-mail they send after hours until the next day. I take that back, there are a few crazies out there who can't understand why I cant provide a multiple choice make-up test the very next day when they e-mail me at 11 pm. But again- few and far between. Anyway, so I am watching him take these calls, most of which I feel if the person on the other line had tried, they themselves could have handled the task, and I realize there is no perfect job.
I could teach college, but the hours would suck in a different way. AND I would have to go to school to get my PhD. That would be way expensive. I have a girl friend who teaches the "teaching" class at her local high school. That seems like a really sweet deal.
I would love to work for a text book company, but no one is buying text books these days- I know we haven't had an adoption in 5 years. Our reading books are about 10 years old- at least. There is a lady who comes to our grant training, and shows us how to use the materials we purchased as a grant. She is a former teacher and seems to have a lot of fun.
In reality, I am not going anywhere. I am going to stay a teacher. Continue grading papers. Still disciplining, encouraging, and bonding.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Playing
So I have really tried playing with little man a little bit every day. Today I took him outside with the rake. I made a little pile of leaves, swung him around, and plopped him in the middle of the pile. He immediately put his hands in the air and remained stick still.
He was terrified to touch the leaves. This is RH magic trick to keep him where I want him. Put that bigger in a pile of leaves and I am gold! When he got his sad face on, I took him out. I threw him in again, and this time he crawled out. It was too cute. He only wanted go palms to touch the leaves, not his fingers. It was like watching a woman with wet nails try to pick up something.
The hubby took over taking when he got home and was dropping leaves over him. He would pull his hands up to his face and squeal. Ah-dor-ah-ble. I know one day they are going to groan and say "Do I have to rake" and I will be forced to bribe him to go outside and touch a leaf. But for know I will thoroughly enjoy the squealing boy before me.
He was terrified to touch the leaves. This is RH magic trick to keep him where I want him. Put that bigger in a pile of leaves and I am gold! When he got his sad face on, I took him out. I threw him in again, and this time he crawled out. It was too cute. He only wanted go palms to touch the leaves, not his fingers. It was like watching a woman with wet nails try to pick up something.
The hubby took over taking when he got home and was dropping leaves over him. He would pull his hands up to his face and squeal. Ah-dor-ah-ble. I know one day they are going to groan and say "Do I have to rake" and I will be forced to bribe him to go outside and touch a leaf. But for know I will thoroughly enjoy the squealing boy before me.
Friday, October 5, 2012
The beach was Good, it really was
So There were many great things at the beach, many lessons learned.
One- 10 lbs of fresh shrimp is really only 5 pounds of cooked shrimp.
The hubby really wanted fresh sea food while we were at the beach. So he and his dad headed out one afternoon in search of some. He returned with a big stinking bag of fresh shrimp- fresh as in eyes, tentacles, and tails. This is about 3 pm. I go ahead and start cutting heads off the shrimp. I find some really big guys in there and we get excited about our haul. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. The hubby starts to shell and gut them. Cut. Cut. Shell. Gut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Shell. Gut. It takes much longer to shell and gut these guys than to cut the head off. So, My brother in law begins to help. cut shell gut, cut shell gut. Well about 3 hours later we are nearly done. nearly. OMG really. We all stink, our backs hurt and we are starting to think shrimp- not so great. Finally, we finish and then cook the shrimp. Well after loosing their heads, shells, guts and being cooked. They looked like the little cheap shrimp you find inside your lean cuisine microwave lunch. You know the ones that are so small they truly match the name shrimp. Next time pay the extra bucks and get the shrimp ready to eat, because that was ridiculous, and will not be repeated.
two- my kid can sleep with someone else in the room, he just chooses not to when mommy and daddy are around. That stinker slept just fine with his cousin in the room that whole week. They "talked" and then went to bed. Even if his cousin was having a rough night and cried some. Little man just rolled over and went to sleep. OR, he tried to comfort his cousin. It was cute.
Three- My kid is totally straight. EVERY girl that walked by in a bikini was watched with the same intensity he gives to Elmo's World every morning. He likes girls- ALOT. Yikes.
Four- Baby Boy pukes the same amount in North Carolina as he does in Georgia
five- blogging really does help when you are feeling down and out
six- Mother Nature loves me just enough. She gave me my first period since the baby before we went to the beach AND decided fall could wait until we were getting ready to head home. She is a gem, that one.
seven- I have a great Uncle who flew in from Chicago to take care of mom so we could have our vacation. Great Uncle. Awesome Uncle.
One- 10 lbs of fresh shrimp is really only 5 pounds of cooked shrimp.
The hubby really wanted fresh sea food while we were at the beach. So he and his dad headed out one afternoon in search of some. He returned with a big stinking bag of fresh shrimp- fresh as in eyes, tentacles, and tails. This is about 3 pm. I go ahead and start cutting heads off the shrimp. I find some really big guys in there and we get excited about our haul. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. The hubby starts to shell and gut them. Cut. Cut. Shell. Gut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Shell. Gut. It takes much longer to shell and gut these guys than to cut the head off. So, My brother in law begins to help. cut shell gut, cut shell gut. Well about 3 hours later we are nearly done. nearly. OMG really. We all stink, our backs hurt and we are starting to think shrimp- not so great. Finally, we finish and then cook the shrimp. Well after loosing their heads, shells, guts and being cooked. They looked like the little cheap shrimp you find inside your lean cuisine microwave lunch. You know the ones that are so small they truly match the name shrimp. Next time pay the extra bucks and get the shrimp ready to eat, because that was ridiculous, and will not be repeated.
two- my kid can sleep with someone else in the room, he just chooses not to when mommy and daddy are around. That stinker slept just fine with his cousin in the room that whole week. They "talked" and then went to bed. Even if his cousin was having a rough night and cried some. Little man just rolled over and went to sleep. OR, he tried to comfort his cousin. It was cute.
Three- My kid is totally straight. EVERY girl that walked by in a bikini was watched with the same intensity he gives to Elmo's World every morning. He likes girls- ALOT. Yikes.
Four- Baby Boy pukes the same amount in North Carolina as he does in Georgia
five- blogging really does help when you are feeling down and out
six- Mother Nature loves me just enough. She gave me my first period since the baby before we went to the beach AND decided fall could wait until we were getting ready to head home. She is a gem, that one.
seven- I have a great Uncle who flew in from Chicago to take care of mom so we could have our vacation. Great Uncle. Awesome Uncle.
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