lauren loves apples

Ugh is the sound I make when kicked in the stomach.

Tonight I went to a  “how to help your child with their studies” class and then it happened to be open house at my oldest son’s school so I wandered thru and talked to some of his teachers. This is good because I want to poke him. I want him to know I’m watching and keeping in touch with his school. I was in fact delighted because they all seemed very enthusiastic about his average performance. He isn’t really an uptight learner, he’s sort of mellow. He’s sort of social, thinking about where he fits in with the world.

Then I talked to his reading & English teacher, we talked a little about various things and he mentioned he co-teaches in reading with a special ed teacher. I mentioned that I’m taking SPED 208 and was interested to know how the co-teaching is working out. Then I felt compelled  to explain why I’m taking that class, no I’m not majoring in special ed. though I should. I’m getting certification to teach art. And then it all starts feeling like a flashback, only in reverse. 

Remember that day I was assistant manager of my store, and found out what my raise was going to be, and the very same minute looked on the company intranet and saw basically that they were bankrupt and beginning closings? Well today I did the reverse, sort of. Paid my bill. Wrote a check for what to me feels like a heck of a lot of my very own money to my school. Later was told by this middle school teacher I was talking to that basically there aren’t a lot of art teacher jobs in the district, not a lot of openings. Fabulous.

As I sort of crawled away from him, my spirit hovered above my body, looking down upon myself from the acoustical tile and fluorescent fixtures…wandered around blindly soul-less for a few seconds till a kindly math teacher showed me the way to the door.  Sorry ma’am. No zombies allowed.

The long weekend is upon us and gratefully I attended my one Friday class and went to the nurse to complain about a sore throat, verbally crossing my fingers it wasn’t some sort of porcine avian somethin’… whatever it was, it isn’t affluenza. I’ve been so anxious about my authentic passionate “why I wanna be a teacher” reflection, I forgot about money for a while. So I hope I can channel my glee that my MidAm bill was only $88 into any statement I have to write about my impending teacherhood.

Tom Cruise is showing Oprah how to cook. Bacon? Oprah weighs more than me. She could hire people to lift her feet for her to exercise. And she’s cooking bacon. Oprah needs to pick tomatoes for a few weeks and walk to college from her house for a few weeks. She’d lose weight too.

My Great Aunt Jeanne told my momma, “that’s a big girl” the other day when I was walking down the hall. Great Aunt Jeanne loves me but she’s got Alzheimers now, so there’s no filter. Admittedly I’m bigger than her daughter, who is a teensy pip-squeak. Or, as my boys would say, she’s puny.

My boys are home this weekend, I have loads to study, and life seems pretty good in spite of my sore throat fatigue general malaise and ibuprofin popping habit.

Today I go to the art center to discuss floor cloths and the teaching of a class on how to make floor cloths. So I should prepare. For that. I have floor cloths, I have a book. I have courage. So that makes me prepared, right? Should I dress up? Or do I take that artistic license in the whole clothing items and decorative accessories department?

What am I passionate about? I need to do some work on my 2 minute talk today. Two things. I do not know. My entire being seems to center around the mellow and middle of the road. So generally I can take it or leave it, whatever it is. Unless it’s the kids, and I can’t justify bringing them to class. Because that would get them out of class. Only skip class for dental appointments. But I do take plenty of pictures of the kids. So that was thing one. Thing two is so bizarre that I would look at someone else funny for doing the thing that I do.

I want some notecards. I picked out the items/artifacts to bring for my talk. I still need to print out kid pictures, because mainly what I enjoy doing is taking pictures of kids. So that’s my talk. Silly multicolored crochet animals and picture taking. Two things I’m passionate about. If I could be considered passionate about anything not human.

The wordpress format is complicated. And I don’t like how it says “Howdy” up there. Howdy. Seriously? I like Blogger better. But that’s okay. I enjoy blogging as a way to organize my thoughts. For some reason it makes great sense to me to publish for all to see an itemization of what’s going on in my head at the time. Why is this and do I have a big problem with it? Because for some reason I think I should. Why would it be important or even reasonable to think other people should read what I have to say? However, I do it anyway. But now I’m starting to wonder what I’m supposed to be doing.

Going home now. To load the floor cloths in the vehicle. And take a shower. Aiming for presentable.