On Christmas I Crush Things

Tonight was my Preschool Christmas Program. (Should all the words be capitalized?)

Eh. Whatever.

The sweet little ones were all dressed up. There were wise men and sheep and camels and an angel and there was even a donkey named Clyde. It was all very "awww".

Moms, Dads, Grandparents, Siblings and random other extended family all thought it was a great show. I have to agree, not to mention knowing this is the last time I have to sing  "must be Santa" this year makes me positively giddy.

Back on point!!!

So normally while I am at preschool I wear Batman t-shirts and assorted other nerd stuff. I pair that with sneakers or flats, sometimes flip flops. Basically I am not a fancy person.

Who can blame me. A smear of snot or a handful of paint are always close at hand. Plus I really love Batman and I like to pretend that the reason I own 5 Batman shirts is because I teach preschool.

Tonight was different though. All the little ones were in their Christmas finest and I needed to step up my game. So I wore heels. This is always cause for comment because of the aforementioned Batman obsession but there was a time when I wore heels more often then not. I can even run in them if necessary although I don't recommend it.

So after I pointed out to all my awesome coworkers* that it wasn't a big deal I crushed a stool and nearly face planted onto the stage.


Yeah you read that right!

While walking onto the stage after the little angels were done to ensue none of them took a header into the audience (no stage diving allowed) I crushed a plastic stool with my heel and caused the audience to gasp.

This is the offending item. According to the Home Depot website it is rated to 325 lbs. LIARS!

I did get a high five from one of the Dads for my recovery so I'm still counting tonight as a win for me.



*Normally it would be safe to assume this was sarcasm but just this once you would be wrong. They really are AWESOME.)

Proof I'm Not Normal. (In Case You Had Any Doubts)

Many of you faithful readers (Pause while I check my view count. YEAH double digits!) might remember I got a JOB! At a preschool!

We can discuss all the ways that is crazy another day. Right now I want to talk about my meeting.

Yes Preschool teachers have meetings. There are a lot less charts and talk of streamlining and a lot more talk about the taste of paste and who has any wipes to spare.

So I was sitting in my meeting talking about how to plan the weekly activities to make sure my little ones get all the education they need when I mentioned our philosophy was going to be based on Omerta.

 Now if you already know what this is you are my kind of people but sadly, my fellow preschool teachers did not. (I still love them.)

This is mandatory reading in some neighborhoods.

I found this lack of knowledge disturbing. I thought everyone knew the code.

Wikipedia, in part describes Omertà as an extreme form of loyalty and solidarity in the face of authority.

Basically Snitches get Stitches.

Luckily they are now aware of this word and it's meaning and I am reminded that I am not normal.


As a side note I have a long post about my brother's wedding in the works. Hopefully I will post it soon. This vocab lesson will come in handy when I do so keep it close by. 

My Last Day.

I was going to call this I Survived but apparently I already said that when I was talking about that Crazy Race and that isn't what I'm talking about now.

Now I'm talking about Preschool.

Today was the last day for my little ones.

Tomorrow night they graduate, then they will spend the summer making their parents insane before they head off to kindergarten.

I've learned a few things along the way and I wanted to share them with you in case anyone ever offers you a group of young minds to mold. I mean teach. I totally meant teach. Not mold. That would be weird.

1. Stockpiling is a necessity when it comes to red paint and glue sticks. Hoard them like they are the only weapon that will work against the zombies.

2. Snot is sticky. You might already know this but it needs repeating.

3. Whining is contagious like Ebola. You need to stop it at patient zero or it can turn into an epidemic.

4. Structure is great but you need to go with the flow sometimes and that might mean your perfectly cut craft turns into a fairy unicorn instead of the horse and carriage you found on pintrest.

5. Kids can be frustrating beyond words.

6. Kids can be insanely funny, sweet, kind and insightful.

7. Yesterday was the most exciting day ever. Or it's hard for four year olds to grasp the concept of time.

 8. Mom's cry over their babies big moments. Some times it's my fault, some times it's not. Either way you have to comfort them.

9. Adding dots to letters is fancy. 

Now I don't remember anything about being in Preschool personally. I know it was in a church in Queens but I don't remember any classmates or teachers. I don't remember what color the walls were or what songs we sang at circle time.

I'm not so vain as to think I have somehow changed their lives but I hope I gave them a good start so that one day when they meet that teacher that they remember forever it's for all the right reasons.

For me it was Mrs. Hall. She taught 3rd grade and I remember sitting in her class and learning how to fold an origami swan. I know she taught me about the states and multiplication and a thousand other things but that one moment I remember like it was yesterday.

If you've ever sat in a boring meeting with me than you know I can still do it. I can still fold that perfect swan 30 years later.  

2 things are happening RIGHT NOW.

The princess graduated preschool today. Although they don't call it graduation. They call it Bridging. Something about bridging the gap between Preschool and Kindergarten. I was only half paying attention as Colin kept raising his hand as if we were at the question and answer part of the event

(He also raised his hand when they said they were going to read Dr. Seuss. He wanted to volunteer his oratory services.)

It was  adorable. Natalie sang songs and danced her little heart out.



Natalie and her future husband Weston.



Triple S wasn't home. Long story short but basically Captain Steve is a self serving jerk. (this is one of the reasons he should have his own blog. All tugboats, all the time.)

I videotaped it of course. Like a good parent so that I will be able to torture her one day with her adorableness. When she is old enough to think she is too cool for me I will pull it out and remember when she didn't mind holding my hand.

Oops. Got mushy there for a moment.

Back on topic.

The theme was Beach Party.

Wait, just a bit more mushiness. It was really nice seeing all the kids up there. I'm glad that many of them will be with Natalie at her school next year.

Seriously what is up with my hair? Root touch up time I guess.
And yes my children look nothing like me.

Okay on to my second topic. The part where I confess my insanity.




Yes that is barbed wire but I suppose I shouldn't complain. It could be razor wire.

 I signed up for the Spartan Race. And yeah it is exactly as scary as you think it is. See this is what happens when you start working out again. Crazy people at the gym convince you that this is a good idea. They sweet talk you with promises of matching outfits and mud.

These crazy ladies are jumping over FIRE!!!! Real FIRE!!!
PS I will not be wearing a half shirt. Matching or not.

So here starts my journey to insanity! I have about 10 months.

Two days before my 13th anniversary to Triple S I am going to be wearing some matching outfit with some awesome ladies and trying my best not to die.



Just found this. I can do anything if I get to fight someone!

I think I am going to put a slide show of Gerald Butler on my phone and stare at it while I try and get ready for this.

I know they used makeup to make those 6 packs but who cares?

So if you are at the gym with me and I start yelling about "Madness? This is Sparta." Now you know why.

Preschool: year 3

So I'm a preschool teacher. I've mentioned that before. Last year I managed to avoid the sophomore slump and get the loudest cheers at graduation.

This year though, I was worried about criers. 

I love 4 year olds. They are smart and funny and fun and we play with crayons and play dough and dress up. There are swings and slides and nature walks. It's basically the coolest job ever. Plus I get to indulge in my superhero t shirt obsession. 

The problem is that none of that fun stuff can happen until they get to know me and not miss their moms so much. 

Sometimes that takes a few minutes and sometimes it takes a few days. For the littler guys it can take weeks. Although it feels much longer when they won't stop crying. Poor babies.

This year my new kiddos walked right in and got down to the business of having fun. No tears. No crying. Nothing but smiles. It was epic.

I'm hoping it was a sign of how our year together is going to go and not a "things can only get worse" situation.

Questions I get asked.

So I live a weird life.

I do things that aren't considered "normal".

This makes odd questions commonplace for me. Some might say de rigueur. (I'd say that because I love fancy words.)


This weeks question are entertaining. So I figured I would share them with you.


Question one:

"Are you a nurse?"


This is really only an odd question because an ICU nurse asked me. Also, it isn't something I hear on a regular basis. There was this one time a cop asked me during a "routine traffic stop". Apparently, he was bored and upon seeing my USAA insurance card asked what branch of the service my husband was in. When I mentioned that it was my service that earned my right to use USAA he asked what branch.

Of course a logical question.
When I answered Navy his reply was "A nurse?"

But I digress.

This nice lady said she was curious because of the way I talked and handled myself. A compliment for sure.

Question 2:

Was prefaced with the always wonderful. "I don't want to offend you."

For normal people that is usually an indication that they are, in fact, about to get offended but I'm not normal. (see above.)

The question was "How do you talk to children?"

He was, of course, asking this because we had just finished a workout together and I pepper most of my conversations with curse words. Like ALL the time except when I am teaching preschool.

So his question was how did I manage not to say FUCK in front of small children? A valid question.

Truthfully I don't know. I do know I've not slipped up once in front of the little ones. Maybe because they are so little? Maybe because I do have a small window every day where I can control myself. Maybe it's because play-dough and glitter make me so zen I don't feel the need to curse.

That last one can't be right but it sounded good in my head.


So those are my two weird questions this week. Anyone else asked the most random things?

Sophomore Scream

Year 2 of teaching preschool is in the bag and I don't mean to brag but I did pretty good. I avoided the sophomore slump nicely.

Fact: My parents cheered the loudest at the graduation ceremony. (I didn't even have to pay them)

Opinion: My kids were the greatest. (although the other kids were pretty awesome too.)

Fact: Without my trusty side kick Robin I wouldn't be able to be so awesome.

Opinion: I'm pretty good at this. (At least I hope I am.)

So let the summer begin. It's time to get my tan on. (PS Remember sunblock is your friend!)

Before I let my brain cook in the Southern sun I want to remind you of a few things.


1. Glitter is like the sand of crafting. It gets everywhere and no matter how hard you try there is always a little more.

2. Hugs from small children are great. Even better are hugs that come with sweet words.

3. You can build up a tolerance to snot. Not something I wanted to learn.

4. I've never met a child that didn't like goldfish crackers.

5. Coloring with crayons is very calming.

6. Pretty band-aids are the cause of more injuries than old benches.

7. If you bring me a cup of coffee I can be swayed to do, or forgive, just about anything. Bubbly water also works.

So have a fun summer kids and if you remember only one thing from my class make sure it's that being yourself and being weird is better than normal everyday of the week.

100, One Hundred, C

This is my 100th Blog post.

Who knew I had that much random crap in me to share with the masses?

On TV they make a big deal out of 100 episodes. They pretend it's because the show has lasted so long but really that's the magic number that makes syndication possible.

 

Syndication is where the real money in TV is. Or so I've been told. It's not like I have my own talk show. Although if someone wants to put that into production I would be %100 percent on board. It would have to be cable though. Sure I'm a preschool teacher but it would be pushing my luck to be on TV during the family hour.

I hear the FCC is pretty hardcore about some words being said on the air.

Back on point.

(Have you ever noticed that I stray from the point A LOT?)

100th post. It's special because 100 is a big number.

Right now 3 of my posts have exactly 100 views. (not sure how many are spambots. It's not my fault that my target demographic is Russian robots.) 1 2 3

My most read blog post to date is about Me and Captain Phillips.

My least read is taking the kids to see Big Time Rush. (We did make is back from the Wedding in time although it was the night before Natalie's first day of Kindergarten, I'm sure she had a great first day. Only babies need more than 6 hours of sleep.)

FB is still the main way people get here despite my Twitter/instragram/email campaign!!! I can't afford a Superbowl commercial people. Help me out.

It is also the only way people comment!!! Don't you want to comment directly on my blog that way strangers think I'm more popular that I am? Seriously Please! Comment on my blog, it brings me such joy. Don't you want to bring me joy?


The weirdest way someone found my blog was Tuxedo Ken doll. SCARY!
This week though, someone arrived here by typing "everything with fries blog", is that a real thing? Does someone write about about having fries with everything? Because that is genius!



So for my 100th post I have nothing new for you. Just recycled crap which is perfect because it is the
end of the year and everyone else is doing "year in review" crap so why not me too?

Because they actually have exciting things to recap. (you can shut up now voice in my head!)




Bonus points to anyone that knew C was the roman numeral for 100.

I Need a Child Psychologist. STAT!

No not because I act like a crazy child.

You guys are not very supportive. Seriously I try and blog and all I get is grief.

Just kidding. You guys are the best.

So It's year three of my adventure as a preschool teacher. Once again I have lucked out in the student department. I have kids that are sweet and listen (well, listen as well as anyone can expect a group of four years olds). They try new snacks without complaining and know how to make one hell of a collage with glitter and pipe cleaners. Seriously Picasso would be jealous.

Basically they are tiny awesome humans.

EXCEPT for one thing,

When they all sit down I ask them a question in the negative form or the affirmative.

Examples:

Raise your hand if you DON'T like grapes.

or 

Raise your hands if you Do like grapes.

Either way they all raise their hands. Not because they all do or don't like grapes but because they are insane. Or at least that is my conclusion but I'm not a child Psychologist. Hence the title of today's blog.

Do they not get the concept of a the need for only some of them to answer?

You know what? I'm going to let it slide. Trying to figure out how the mind of a 4 year old works seems a bit futile plus they are raising their hands and not calling out. I'm counting that as a win.

Yeah me!

Black Belt Bound

It's been a while but I felt the spark of inspiration so here we go.

If you know me you know I do Jiu Jitsu. I've no doubt tried to convince you that you should try it. Certainly I've suggested you come to class with me. I've talked about all the extra benefits of Jui Jitsu that are so amazing. I've told you of the joy of throwing a grown man. 

Yes I sound like a crazy person pitching you a cult. I know that. 

 It's just that it is amazing. It is life changing. It is so fucking empowering.

Yesterday I got my 2nd stripe on my brown belt. 

For context there are 5 belts in Jiu Jitsu. White, blue, purple, brown, black. you get 4 stripes on each belt before you move to the next. Usually. 

You can be at any one of those belts from 2 to 3 years or even longer. 

Jiu Jitsu is the ultimate marathon.

Added context. I got a BLACK belt in Tae Kwon Do in 2 and a half years.  I was still a white belt in Jui Jitsu at that same point. I don't point this out to diminish any other martial arts, just to make you understand why I feel such an insane feeling of accomplishment for making it this far. 

OK so now you have all the information necessary to realize why I got a little bit choked up at this post:

SOON?

A relative term when the average black belt takes TEN years.

But still. SOON? a year? Two? 

I'm not looking for a timeline. I've never done that with any of my promotions. I just keep my head down and keep showing up. 

So soon or not that's what I'm going to keep doing. The best part is that after I get that pretty black belt?  That's what I'll still keep doing. 

One more peice of context.

That child in the picture with me? He was a student at my preschool. 

Why do I mention that?

Because time passes. Fast or Slow depending on the season of life but it passes. So yes 10 years is a long time but it's going to pass whether or not you start that thing you've been putting off.

There is no better time than right now to start. 

Employment, Here I Come.

I haven't forgotten about the cheese update. I swear. I will give full details soon, but right now I want to talk about something new.

 A job. That's right. I got me a J O B.


Two years ago Triple S and I moved down here (the South) to try and improve our quality of life. NJ had just about sucked every last bit of it out of us.

it's a black hole?

I consider it a success. I yell less, I have so much free time I occasional try insane things like making my own cheese and blogging, and I get to go to the gym and try and stay healthy. Basically everything is coming up roses.

Initially I had told triple S I wasn't sure how I would handle not working as I've either had a full time job or been in school full time since I was 16. No summers off for me.

Absolutely no idea who his guy is or what he is doing.

That was of course foolish as I reveled in my free time after the shock of not having to be busy every minute of everyday wore off I basked in the joy of staying home. Getting to spend more quality time with my family and feeling much less guilty about taking an hour or two for myself.

This year though, Natalie will be starting kindergarten. I know most parents would be sad about this. Or at least most moms. I however have never claimed to be like most moms. So I'm thrilled she is starting school. She is a smart little girl and will do great, of that I have no fear.

Now we turn back to the point of this post. With both kids in school I had hoped to find some sort of part time position. One that would keep me busy while the kids were away at school but would still allow me time to volunteer in their classrooms.

It seemed a tall order. Near to impossible.

Then last year things started to look up. I was asked to substitute teach at Natalie's preschool numerous times. I became so popular that I would occasionally get two requests for the same day. I had to keep track of everything in a calender.

It was Crazy! But Awesome.

I began to hope that maybe this would turn into a full time position by the next year. I had seen it happen before. It wasn't so far fetched. The impossible seemed possible. 

Wilson and a monkey's fist.

But I didn't want to get my hopes up. It was perfect. Surely I wouldn't be the only one who wanted it?

I expressed my interest and tried to convey my sincerity. (Not an east task when I spend most of my days being sarcastic.)

I hoped but I didn't assume.

Today though I get to celebrate. I have a job! Something perfect that allows me to continue doing everything I've grown to enjoy about not working full time.

I'm tempted to play the lottery. Maybe place a bet? I wonder how long this luck will hold out.

Furiously Happy (to quote a very worldly lady)

You-These pictures make no sense.

Me-You don't say? 

I typed the words in red into a Google imagine search and picked something at random.

 HHAHAHAHAH

Sometimes I worry about myself.

My last workout

So I just realized I had my last workout at the gym I have been going to for the last 8 years.

That's kind of sad.        Actually, It's really sad.

You probably know if you read this blog that when the family moved here to North Carolina 9 years ago I was UNHEALTHY. I was working a regular 9-5 job and I was going out to lunch a lot and eating quick food because time was at a premium. I had 2 small kids and a husband that traveled. These aren't excuses. Looking back now I know I just didn't make my health a priority.

Certainly, busy people make time to get to the gym. I wasn't special. Just lazy.

So I got big.

For a while I ignored it. Used my usual excuses "big boned" and the like.

All that changed when we moved though because suddenly I was a stay at home mom with one kid in full-time school and another in preschool.

I had LOTS of free time.

It's hard to say you don't have time to get to the gym when all you have is time.

Or maybe I just hated laundry so much I was willing to start working out again just to not have to fold one more load?

Either way, I joined the gym and started with 20 minutes on the treadmill.

Seriously. I was walking for 20 minutes and I would leave sweaty and gross and I HATED IT. I hated every step because it was hard and it made me angry at myself for getting so damn out of shape.

You see it doesn't happen overnight. It's a thousand bad choices made over and over again.

The crazy part is that is the same way you fix it.

A thousand good choices made over and over again.

My first was the gym. Over and over again, day after day I went from 20 minutes on the treadmill to cardio classes to the weights.

I got faster and stronger and HEALTHIER.

There was the other side too where I stopped sneaking ice cream when the dog would wake me up at 3 am. Yes, a thing I did most nights. Or cookies. Or some other junk.

I starting doing all the things we all know we are supposed to do but don't want to because it's easier to make excuses.

Time passed.

Progress happened, as it does when you put your head down and grind.

Thursday morning I walked into my usually 930 class and for whatever reason, I was the only one.

Just me and the weights and so much sweat.

I was having a hard time with a plate pinch carry. Basically, I was holding two ten-pound weights in each hand pinched between my thumb and four fingers. I was supposed to walk 50 m with them then move on to the next step.

My hands kept slipping. I was getting frustrated. That's when coach said he liked it when I came in first to "test" the workout.

Because I was having a hard time the workout was changed.

I'm the gold standard.


Okay, that's a little ridiculous but remember just a few sentences ago I told you 20 minutes on the treadmill was horrible. Now workouts are being altered base on MY ability to do them.

Sadly though my progress is not what the blog is about.

Remember, I'm leaving my gym.

They have instituted a "no bag" policy like stadiums and concert halls.  While I understand the world we live requires businesses to make changes that they think will keep their customers safe I don't agree this is the way to go. At least not for this business.

What matters is that I can't tell you all about how you should be a sheepdog and how important training is then be in a facility that has ensured that I don't have anything to keep myself safe.

So it's new gym time.

Got to walk the walk. Not just talk the talk.

Lead by example.

At least that is the kind of person I would like to be. Those are certainly the people I look up to.

So I tried out a new gym this morning.

Although "new" Isn't really accurate. I tried it out about a year ago but I wasn't ready to leave the nest. Wasn't ready to start something new, despite the fact that it's like this gym was made for me.

There are punching bags and training guns and heavy weights.

Yes, you read that right.

Did I mention the signs on the walls say things like "hope is not a plan"?

Oh and last but not least membership at this gym gets me access to a private outdoor range where I can practice moving and shooting.

I know. I'm confused as to why I took so long when I knew this was an option.

2 things.

Number 1 is that I LOVE MY PEOPLE. They make the worst workouts better just by their mutual suffering.

Number 2 is that there are no classes. Everything is self-motivated and I seriously questioned whether, when it was up to me, I would actually work hard.

I realize that is insane.

I'm not going to start skipping the gym because I'm going by myself.

Did I forget who I am?

I should know I'm awesome.

So GOODBYE old gym.

GOODBYE awesome workout buddies.

GOODBYE the comfort of things that are KNOWN.

Epic Teaching

The awesomest thing ever happened this week at work!

AWESOME I TELL YOU.

Please tell us what it is? We need to know.

Shhhhhhh. Be patient my pretties. All is due time.

We need to know. 

I'm going to tell you, golly. Just CHILL. (Did I just type 'golly'? I need to get out more.)

So as you might remember I teach preschool now. I'm entering my sophomore year and trying to avoid the slump. Testing out new songs and new crafts. I'm going to keep it fresh and make sure those kids love learning.

I do this by being silly and ridiculous. Also by mixing in bits and pieces of my old life.

Everyday we head up the stairs to enjoy the playground and some running around. Little kids are especially fond of this time of day and they have a tendency to rush up said stairs.

We remind them over and over again to go slow and hold the railing.

Yesterday after another round of repetition the tiniest of my charges piped up "One hand for the ship."

Now if you know what that means you are my kind of people.

If not.......

Ships pitch and roll. They aren't the stablest of platforms so when you are new the saltier souls remind you "one hand for the ship". It means you should always have a free hand in case you need to grab on to a railing quickly. I have borrowed this phrase to remind the kids to hold the railing when we are heading up the stairs.

It's going to get rough. You might want to hold on.

Told you it was EPIC!

Activity Specific Music

So cool news. I teach martial arts AGAIN. New twist. I actually get paid this time.  Crazy right? As if the preschool foolishness wasn't enough. Nope. Now it's play dough mornings and arm bar nights.

BEST LIFE EVER.

Okay done with that!

So along with this cool new thing I've been making playlists like its my job.

OH WAIT, IT IS!!! (so cool)

So obviously when you are trying to push yourself to work harder you need good music.

No ENYA.

That just isn't going to cut it.

One of my favorite motivational go to songs is THUNDERSTRUCK.

It makes you want to push harder. It makes me think I can run a little further, hit a little harder, jump a little higher. Basically be Superwoman.

It's also in a playlist that I like to listen to with the windows down while I drive fast.

That's it though.

When else would anyone listen to AC/DC?

Folding laundry?

Yoga?

Mowing the lawn?

Singing?

SIDE NOTE: These are all things I have playlists for. Seriously. I'm obsessed with music. 

So I guess my question is are there any other songs that are very activity specific? Song that only work for one thing?

Tales from The Preschool

In the past I have talked about being a teacher and all the funny stuff, I mean all the educational stuff we do.

Remember when I taught the kids to keep "one hand for the ship."? Epic.

This week my success is measured in the words of one of my sweet students.

Student: (hand raised) "Miss Ronnie, I have a statement."

Yeah! A five year old said that.

He said that because when we are all gathered round in the morning to talk about the letters, shapes, colors, the calender, the weather, dogs and daughters, (no big whoop) and who is going to Hilton Head that weekend a lot of hands interrupt my knowledge imparting.

Now I'm totally cool with questions (even off topic ones that involve why Miss Ronnie wears so many Batman shirts) but I'm not a fan of random stories.

How cruel. They are just little kids. Let them share their joy.

Chill! I totally let them share, sometimes overshare, just not during 'circle time'. That's what people in the know call it.

I ask them if they have a question; something that needs an answer from me. Or a statement; a story they just want to tell the class.

Question or statement. BIG DIFFERENCE.

They say you have to repeat something like a thousand times before a child gets it. (that's science!) I thought I was only in the 900's but I guess I lost count somewhere or this little boy is just a child prodigy the likes of a Doogie Howser.

So yeah I was walking a little taller today.

Hairstory: living on the scissors edge.

So back when I was about 12 I got a really short hair cut. A pixie some would call it. It wasn't something I wanted or thought was a good idea but I tried to convince myself it would work out.

Right about this time there was a commercial for Doublemint gum that featured two reasonably attractive women with short hair.

I could be just like them.

Look how carefree they are in their matching tennis sweaters. For some reason I remember them having a tandem bike and yes I know that isn't helping my case.

Stop judging me. It was the 80's dammit!

In the end though I really didn't have a choice, you see a few months before I had been talked into a perm. Oh yeah! The kind where you sit at the salon for hours with that horrible stinky stuff on your head.  I was never crazy about that idea either but remember it was the 80's.

Needless to say it turned out awesome (sadly I don't have any pictures so you'll just have to take my word for it.). The problems started not long after because I was on a swim team spending way too much time in over chlorinated pools.

By the end of the season my hair was so fried it was breaking off in my hands. Drastic measures were necessary. So I convinced myself that I could pull off short hair.

So off it came. Along with it went any chance of me outgrowing my awkward tom boy appearance until it grew back. That was fine though. I survived and vowed I would never cut my hair short again!

never mind the hair what is up with those eyebrows?

I'm no Audrey Hepburn that is for sure.

Who cares about your hairstory (that's like history and hair mashed together)?

Good new word! Chill I'm getting to the point.

If you've been reading this blog, and obviously you have because you are here right now, right? You know I did it again. A little over a year ago I walked into a salon and cut it all off! Not sure why I decided too. Guess I was getting bored and changing the color every other month was wearing thin.

Whatever the reason I cut it off and was pleasantly surprised. I actually like it short.

Wait. What was my point again when I started this?

Oh yeah. It was crazy hair day at preschool this week and for the second year in a row I sported a Mohawk! Yeah that's right. I spiked that stuff right up.

This is this year's fabulous look. Admittedly it is more Elvis than Mohawk. But I still look BA.

Thank you, thank you very much!

Last Year it was the perfect FauxHawk.  It was red too although you can't tell that from the picture. Also I went out to eat with all the ladies from the school looking like this since they just switched their pigtails to pony tails I was the only one who looked like a lunatic. BEST PART was the people who saw me who didn't acknowledge my hair.




I'm not sure if I should be insulted or pleased that this is a look people think I might try? HMMMMM




So yeah. This is the kind of stuff I do now. I'm not sure if 12 year old me would think it was awesome or not but one thing is certain. If I find a green sweater vest I'm going to rock it!

 So far I've only been able to find a child's size but I'm not giving up!







PS Another advantage of short hair is horns in the shower. Yup. I use my shampoo to turn myself into a magical unicorn. Because I'm awesome. Try not to be jealous.

PPS this totally counts as a Throw Back Thursday entry since I included I picture of young and impressionable me.

A Few of My Favorite Things.

Okay really only one thing.

Fried rice!!!

At this point I'm sure you are scratching your head and thinking I was going to talk about Christmas stuff. You know, egg nog, carols, teapots, whiskers on kittens (that's what Julie Andrews was really talking about). By now you should know that nothing here leads where you think it's going to.

What's with the creepy matching outfits?

I love the South. I might have mentioned this once or twice.

It's not perfect though. There are some things lacking here that I might have taken for granted while I was living in NJ. I was just about to list a bunch of cultural stuff but lets be honest, who cares about any of that?

Food. I miss the food.

So lets go back to the beginning of this confusing story.

At thanksgiving the preschool where I work had a breakfast, each classroom was responsible for a portion of the aforementioned breakfast. My kids had to bring breakfast meat. Suggestions included, sausage, bacon, liver mush(if you don't know what this is it's apparently because you don't live in NC). I tried to steer everyone towards bacon. Sadly there weren't all hearing my subtle pushing.

Everything is better with bacon and funnier with googly eyes.

One of the wonderful parents asked if it was okay to bring fried rice. She is not from here (by here I mean the US.) originally and fried rice is something she regularly enjoys for breakfast. I encouraged her. It would be nice to have something slightly non traditional and it wasn't like she was bringing monkey brains of fried snails.

You know this is what you were all thinking.

The breakfast went great and everyone enjoyed the ridiculous amount of food.



If you're still reading. Good for you. I'm about to tie all this together.

The rice was awesome. I got seconds. I raved and raved and raved to her the week after the breakfast. It was better than any rice I had eaten since we moved south. Seriously, this lady could have a restaurant with just that rice and I would be there at least once a week.

He English is good but it isn't perfect, and she's very soft spoken so I wondered if she understood just how sincere my love of her rice was until this week.

The little ones started bringing Christmas presents. Some gift cards, candles, lotions. The stuff you would usually expect until the Friday before break when this wonderful mom arrived with a tray of rice for me.

A WHOLE TRAY!

So yummy in my tummy.

I jumped up and down. I hugged her. I giggled like a school girl. (okay maybe that last one is a bit of an exaggeration)

I went home and immediately had a bowl. It was just as good as I remembered it. Maybe a tiny bit better.

So in conclusion fried rice has been my favorite gift so far this Christmas season.

Anyone want to make me Moussaka?


PS I just realized I already have a post with a similar title. Do I secretly love Julie Andrews?

Who am I kidding? Of course I love her. Have you ever seen Victor Victoria?

Mother's Day

 Not that I'm not a preschool teacher anymore I want to talk about one of the few things about that job that made me sad.

Mother's day.

You've probably gotten one of those cute question and answer pages filled out by your child's teacher with much prodding to find out what your child thinks your favorite color is and what you like to do with your vast amounts of free time. ♥️ 🤣

We do this same exercise with dads. 

That's the part that makes me sad. 

When asked about dad's favorite things the kids almost always have REAL answers.

Dad's favorite food is steak. He likes watching football and playing golf. Maybe they know your favorite color is red just like the Kansas Cheifs that are of course dad's favorite team.

Maybe it's building things or working on the car or a thousand other answers that the kids KNOW about their dad.

Not Mom though. 

Mom loves watching cartoons and Mac and cheese and her favorite color is blue "just like mine". 

Just because you're a stay at home mom doesn't mean you are not still your own person.

We talk so often about the analogy of putting on your own oxygen mask first. 

Please let your children KNOW you. Let them know the things that make you happy and the things you hate. Let them know you are a fully formed human with wants and needs just like their father.

So many women get lost in motherhood. Help your kids see you as more than just their caretaker. 

Maybe next year that questionnaire can have some much more personal answers. 

This is NASCAR Country

In truth I have no idea what that means.

It's weird really. I live in "Race City, USA". The police cars have checkered flags running down their sides. There is a Pit Row training school only a few miles away from my house.

This is the water tower. In case you forget where you are.

When I drive around town I see lots of signs for "NASCAR memorabilia".

Friends talk about what "number" they are cheering for. I smile and nod when they talk about this weekend's race. Once Triple S and I even watched the last few laps so we could be included in the conversation the next day.

Prior to that the only conversation  Triple S and I had about NASCAR was about my want to participate in a driver experience package. Not because I like a certain driver but I have some serious speed issues. 

Driver- "Ma'am would you like me to sign something?"

Me- "Shhh, I'm gonna take this curve in 4th I need to concentrate."

We know mechanics and engineers and lots of other support staff. I occasionally hear stories about other people seeing this driver and that out and about around town.

Is the track really that sloped? I'll have to ask my inside source.

I could names names but it is only going to give you proof that I know nothing about this stuff.

Okay so back to the point of this post.

As you know if you read this blog I started working this year at a preschool.  It's been awesome so far. The kids are great and the teachers are great. Plus I'm shaping the future. (isn't that what they say about educators?)

One of the young minds I'm shaping this year is the child of a driver. A sweet and wonderful 4 year old. I won't tell you his/her name or the name of their father. I don't want to exploit them. That isn't the point of this.

The point is that everything I know about NASCAR I have learned from a 4 year old.

The other day a few friends were talking about the past weekend race and I interjected some comments and realized the only reason I had the information was thanks to this small child.



Did you know there was a crash this weekend and that all the drivers had to get out of their cars?

Did you know that you can get ice cream at pit row?

Did you know they have a costume contest at the track on Halloween?

This wonderful little child tells me all about the ins and out of racing. And maybe a few behind the scenes tidbits too.



So if we are talking about racing and I mention something and it sounds a little bit off just try and remember my source.

I Could Take Him

A statement I make on a regular basis. Probably more than once a day depending on how many people I encounter.

Seriously. It's a problem. I look around a room sometimes and I think about who is the first person I need to eliminate if a giant bar fight breaks out.

This is of course a little ridiculous as I spend most of my time either at the Preschool where I work or my kid's school. It's unlikely a massive, no holds barred, ladder and chairs match is going to break out.

Doesn't mean I don't think about it.

At this point I'm sure you are questioning my sanity. First, stop judging! Second, pretty sure I told you I was crazy up front.

None of that is the point.

Today some guys from a local Karate School came in and gave a lecture about anti bullying. They did a pretty good job but that still isn't the point.

I count take them.

I could totally take them.

I mean I would have had to leap over a bunch of under fours but I could totally take them.




That's not too crazy right?

Sweet. Thanks you guys. I'm feeling more normal already.




PS I just re read this before I posted it. I do that because I am an awful speller and my typing isn't much better. Plus I can't pull my usual and blame it on auto correct.

Not the point. I seem to be easily distracted today.

This post reads like a "how to" essay on surviving prison.

I should sign off now. Maybe I should take a quick web MD quiz to check my sanity level?


PPS I made this today.



Stupid Hobby Lobby! Stupid Internet!

AWESOME DR WHO