Random | Marriage Confessions Random | Laugh. Fight. Stay Married.

1. I hate wearing pants. I usually wear skirts or dresses to work, and on the days when I absolutely must wear pants (usually laundry days), I take them off the second I get in the house and walk around pantless until the doorbell rings or I have to go out to the mailbox to get the mail.

2. I am in training for a 10k that I am running in November. This has been week one of an eight-week program. I’m doing the training so early just in case I can’t make it through the first time and need to start over again. So far it’s been easier than my normal running schedule because it requires I have rest days. Today was a rest day. My calves said, “Thank you!” I also have plans to run a 15k in early February with my mother-in-law and then the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon with Sarah at the end of February. I’m telling you this now so that I can’t back out. I’m actually SUPER excited.

3. My classes (8th grade) are writing a research paper this quarter on a topic related to the 1960′s. In a discussion earlier this week, we brainstormed what we knew about the 60′s. Here is a list of things my students thought took place during the 1960′s: World War 1, World War 2, silent movies, Bon Jovi, Vanilla Ice, parachute pants, horse and buggies, and President Clinton. I’m really looking forward to reading their papers.

4. I tried to get Chris to let me interview him for my blog post tonight, but he would not cooperate. We call that a classic UCH. Un-Cooperative Husband.

5. Every night while I blog on he couch, I try to get Chris to rub my feet. And every night he resists and objects for half an hour before finally giving in. But then he rubs them for about 2 minutes and stops. It’s such a tease. Doesn’t he know my feet need more of a commitment from him!?!?!

6. Whenever I schedule blog posts to post automatically (which doesn’t happen all that often, incidentally), I schedule it to post at 6:03am. I’m not sure why I chose that time, but it’s been 6:03am for a couple years now. Weirdness.

7. We are having a yard sale this weekend and are selling all of our baby equipment, like the swing and bouncer seat and all our activity mats. It makes me sad that I won’t be needing those things again. Which is why I asked Chris last night if we were sure we were absolutely done makin’ babies. He said yes and then asked if I was sure I was done havin’ babies. And I said I thought I was, but one more couldn’t be THAT much harder, right? We could, like, sneak another in and no one would even notice. Then I could rock another baby for a while. And that’s when Chris laughed that hysterical laugh he does when he violently disagrees with me but doesn’t want to fight and I laughed that laugh that I do when I know he’s right but just don’t want to admit it and we haven’t talked about it again. That’s some healthy communication right th’ar.

8. My mom pointed to Bean’s belly button (which he calls his “belly butt”) a couple weeks ago and said, “There’s a hole in your tummy!” and Bean replied very seriously, “I know. I have to fix it.” He makes me giggle.

9. I am in need of a jogging stroller. Does anyone have any recommendation? (By the way, if I end up getting one, this will be our THIRD stroller. That’s not normal, right?)

10. Sarah will be here to run with me at 5:30 tomorrow morning. We’re wearing matching running skirts, and I am fully prepared to yell out multiple times as we run, “DIRT IN THE SKIRT, MAY! DIRT IN THE SKIRT!” I have to go to bed now or my skirt won’t get out of bed in the morning.

HAPPY FRIDAY, YA’LL!

36 comments | posted in Around the House, Fun Things, Marriage, Marriage Confessions, Random | tags: Marriage

When we were in Costa Rica, everyone spoke Spanish.

(Side note: I just re-read that sentence and it is the dumbest thing I’ve ever written. No crap they spoke Spanish…what else would they speak?!?!)

Anyway, I remembered how much trouble I had learning a language in school. In high school, my mom made me take Latin because I wanted to go to law school and she told me that Latin was the root of all language – even legal language. I didn’t learn anything. My Latin teacher was also the football coach, and I’m fairly certain he was randomly assigned to teach Latin. I used to turn tests in to him when I was finished and he would look over it, then whisper to me, “You really aren’t ready to turn this in right now are you???” and I knew that something was majorly wrong. So, I’d go back and fix things and then resubmit. Looking back, he was one of my favorite teachers and I must have learned more than I realized because even today I’m pretty darn good at figuring out what foreign words mean based on their roots.

Unfortunately, Latin did not help me in college when I took Spanish for two semesters because it was required for my major (which was English, in case you’re interested). I failed one semester and barely survived the second semester. Spanish and I have never really gotten along since then.

But in Costa Rica, I realized how CLOSE I really am to learning how to speak it. I can actually understand it pretty well, but since I rarely have the opportunity to use it, I don’t ever get better at it.

On the plane ride home from Costa Rica, I decided that I was going to learn how to speak Spanish. And I knew exactly who should teach me – my students!

Living in Orlando, the majority of my students are Spanish-speaking. And middle school kids love to be the expert at something. Plus, out of all the different kinds of students I have, I have the hardest time connecting to ESOL students (students who speak English as a second language). So, my first day back in school, I mentioned it to a few of my ESOL students in my first period class. I told them I wanted to learn to speak Spanish and asked if they would teach me a few simple phrases each week. They LOVED the idea!

My first period class picked a phrase for me to practice that week. “Sietate.” It means, “Sit down.” A key phrase when you’re teaching middle school. I wrote the phrase really small on the top of my whiteboard, just to remind myself to use it throughout the week. When my second period class came in, they wanted to know why that word was up on the board. When I explained, they all wanted to choose a phrase for me to learn that week, too. They chose, “Hoy es _______.” It means, “Today is _________,” and then they taught me the days of the week. By third period, my students already knew what was going on and they came into class throwing Spanish phrases at me. Finally, they decided their phrase would be “Quantos anos tienes?” It means, “How old are you?” The day continued that way and by 7th period, I had seven little Spanish phrases written on the top of my whiteboard like a news ticker. And all week long I used those phrases randomly. Sometimes I said them to my students. Sometimes they said them to me. Sometimes I caught myself practicing them in the hallway when I was walking by myself. However it happened, I learned seven Spanish phrases that day.

That started three weeks ago when I came back from Costa Rica, and every week now my students continue to choose a Spanish phrase for me to learn each week. So far I have learned how to ask to go to the bathroom, how to say if it’s hot or cold outside, how to say, “You have detention,” and (my favorite) how to say, “You should be reading!” More than learning phrases and words, though, I’m having a great time getting to know a group of students that I probably wouldn’t have been able to find common ground with before. Sometimes I think teaching is one of the greatest jobs you can have, but I’m finding that being a student is a pretty good gig to have, too.

16 comments | posted in Fun Things, Marriage Confessions, Random | tags: life, teaching

Yesterday was a long Monday for me. Nothing particularly bad happened. It was just a long, stressful day. Aren’t all Mondays?

I woke up this morning and thought, “Today is going to be better.”

Nope.

I got to daycare, dropped Bean in his classroom, and then headed to Gracie’s room, like I do every morning. Only, as I turned to leave, Gracie’s teacher stopped me and pointed out that Gracie had a little rash on her mouth. Which reminded me vaguely of a pamphlet that had been sent home last week that said something about something about hoof and mouth disease. But feeling fairly certain that Gracie did not, in fact, have hooves, I had thrown the pamphlet out.

Turns out, you don’t need hooves to have hoof and mouth disease! It has it’s own special name for making people sick – hand, foot, and mouth disease. So, they kicked Gracie out this morning until a vet could confirm that her hooves were disease free.

I was already running late for work and couldn’t take a sick day because I hadn’t put in notice for a substitute, so Chris ended up having to stay home with Gracie. That started my whole day off wrong. After that, I got to work and realized I’d forgotten anything to drink (a serious mistake when you spend all day teaching and/or yelling over loud middle schoolers), so I stopped in the teachers lounge to get a drink out of the vending machines. Only, the vending machine guy must have filled the machine wrong because when I pushed Diet Dr. Pepper, I got a real Dr. Pepper. No diet. Which normally wouldn’t have been a big deal, but I was already pissy.

So, now I’m late, out of sorts, and pissy. I was getting mail out of my school mailbox about 10 minutes later, I opened my drink as I walked and the entire bottle spewed out all over me. Perfect.

Now, I was late, out of sorts, pissy, and sticky. Great.

I got through two class periods before I finally realized the lesson I had planned for my students today was going really badly. They weren’t ready for it and so I was dragging them through the material (no fun for them or me), so very quickly before any other classes came in, I rearranged my lesson plans and threw together a better lesson that wasn’t so complex. If you’re a teacher, you understand how much changing plans in the middle of the day can really get you off kilter. Actually, I guess anyone can understand that – when you plan to do one thing and then have to change your plan midstream. It really flusters you.

So, by fifth period, I was still running perpetually late, out of sorts, irritated, sticky, and flustered.

I got to lunch and realized that I had packed the worst lunch ever. Lettuce in a bowl. Seriously. No toppings, dressing, anything. Just lettuce in the bowl. And I had forgotten a fork to eat it with. The crappy lunch is due to the fact that I must have been daydreaming for the hour I went grocery shopping this weekend because we have NO FOOD in our house! I don’t know what the heck I bought because I spent the same amount as always, but there’s nothing in the cabinets or fridge! I did things like buy more pasta (which we already have tons of), but forgot the spaghetti sauce… ????

Anyway, my bad lunch meant that I was not perpetually late, out of sorts, irritated, sticky, and hungry.

When I got home, I was so happy to see Gracie and was relieved to hear the doctor had said she did not have hand, foot, and mouth disease. However, when I put Bean to bed tonight, I did noticed a small little rash had appeared on his mouth. Freaking great.

Some days, I have it all together. I leave home without Cheerios in my hair. I get everyone to where they need to be on time and with shoes on. I feel successful and fulfilled at school. I get dinner on the table and the kids in bed at a decent time.

But then, there are the other days. Today was an other day. I would like a do-over, please.

31 comments | posted in Around the House, Jobs and Careers, Marriage Confessions, Random, Understanding Katie | tags: bad days, life

I have had the same signature since I was in college. I sign with my first initial and then my last name. I started with the first initial thing because my maiden name was long and my formal first name is long and, quite frankly, I just couldn’t make my signature look cute. Shallow, but true. That long signature was just so hard to write. Instead of it being bubbly and happy, like I wanted my signature to be, it was the definition of chicken scratch. It just didn’t look good. And I got tired writing it. It was too long.

(Yes, I know I sound like a middle schooler. Blame it on my day job.)

So, I cut it down to my first initial and my last name. When I got married, my last name became even shorter and so did my signature. Now, my signature really looks like a KB and then the rest is undetectable. Apparently, the shorter my name gets, the lazier I become.

(This picture doesn’t have anything to do with my signature, by the way. It’s just the most recent picture of me. On a side note, to my side note, doesn’t it look like my head isn’t connected to my body?!?!)

This week, though, I was at the local library and I had to sign something. When I signed my name, the two older women behind the desk started having a private conversation right there in front of me about signatures of young people today.

“What kind of signature is that?” one said to the other, holding up my paperwork so she could see it better.

“It’s her initial and last name,” the other replied. “It’s how all the young people are signing their name these days.”

“Well, that’s not a signature!” the first chirped. “That’s just her initials!”

“I know,” said the second. “But they count it as a signature, so I guess we have to take it.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that about my signature. My mom used to get on to me when I was younger for not signing my whole name. She works for a bank, so she’s always insisting that what I sign isn’t “officially” a signature. But, you know moms… So, I usually just blew her off and rolled my eyes.

But, after all this time, was she actually right????

So, I came home and told Chris what the women had said about my signature. He laughed and then said that he’d always thought my signature looked like a little kid’s initials.

So, apparently, I’ve been walking around for ten years signing my name like a child and no one told me. Thank goodness those little old librarian ladies set me straight. This has left me walking around for the past week like a middle schooler (day job again…), trying out my signature in all different ways. Finally, I thought I found the right one, but when I used it today at school?

Chicken scratch. And then my hand got tired.

Just like in college.

It’s amazing how far we come and, yet, how much we are still the same. (sigh)

Respectfully yours,
KB
*****

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