To my brother, the orthodontist:

Merry Christmas!

multitasking

I found myself in an interesting situation the other day. I was using one hand to restrain a child in his seat (it's a long story as to how we got to that ultimatum), and with the other I was rubbing the back of a sobbing child. I felt like justice and compassion personified and divided. It was hard to keep my facial expressions accurate to the situation. While looking left I needed to be stern and firm, and while looking right I needed to be loving and soothing. Meanwhile, I was monitoring the room, sending frowns or smiles to the various children, depending on their current behavior. Confusing! No wonder I feel so conflicted regarding my job! When I realized what I was doing, I almost laughed, but realized that that response was not appropriate for either situation. Ah, the joy of multitasking!

a rough day

Today the CD player struggled to play our cds. At the end of the day, after hours of trying to make it work, I said to my students, "I don't know if the CD player's going to make it." Ibori immediately yelled, "We need alcohol!"

(He had seen Ms. Skipper put rubbing alcohol on a cd the other day to clean it. But the rest of us didn't know that. :) )

shopping

At least they're honest...



Can you imagine buying this produce? I probably would just to get the sticker.

.

overheard...

Overheard in my classroom: "We're all happy!! Now put your heads down!"

Ah, the life of a teacher...

avoid the bus!

I was recently chastised for my lack of posting, so here's the latest: how could one not laugh when looking at this notice?


Would anyone really send their child to school in that bus? It looks as if it were violently smashed and parts are going to fall off any moment. If that bus showed up for my child, I'd keep my child home! I must say, this is a pretty effective notice.

be prepared

Despite the fact that I haven't posted much this summer, plenty of humorous things have happened. Take, for example, when I went home for a couple weeks and realized that my parents, in their zeal to be prepared for natural disasters, may be creating one. Mom and Dad, over the last year or two, have gotten into the ham radio communications. This, I think, it approximately the ultimate in preparation. However, imagine my surprise when I arrived home and noticed the ham radio antenna attached to our house to improve reception. We live in the middle of a small clearing. An incredibly long metal pole is attached to our house, rising up to the sky like a....well, like a lightning rod. Nothing like a good lightning storm to make things exiting at the Marshall house.

I've arrived

Patrick (my co-teacher) and I have decided that we have sufficiently developed the 'Teacher Gene.' Who knows how. But last summer I didn't have it, and this summer I do. I know because last summer my students begged me to push them on the swings, every day. This summer they have not even asked. It's happened: I am officially a teacher!

On a similar note, it's interesting to see the progress of others I worked with last summer. Tommy, one of my teenage assistants last year, pushed those kids on the swings, all day, every day last year. This year, as I was sitting outside monitoring my kids at recess, Tommy walked by. Instantly everyone on the swings yelled, "Tommy! Push us!!" Tommy, without even glancing at them, said, "Pump!" I felt proud.

nickname update

Mist' Jordan's name for me has changed. It's now 'pudd'n'-pop.' I've never heard this before. Of course, his name has also been shortened to Mist' Jord'. (He's been processing a lot of my requests for boxes and tape, since everything has to be packed). I wonder what he'd call me if we worked in the same school for a third year.


And the Shawanna nickname is still going strong. I've had two new people mistakenly call me Shawanna just this week. And the name was passed around at TFA Induction last week, so even those who didn't know the original story now are caught up in it, too. I think it's around to stay - at least as long as I live in this area.

a dramatic play

Overheard in dramatic play:
Jumarr presents Zy'Aire with a bead necklace.
Zy'Aire (cooing): "Oh, Jumarr, is it for me?"
Jumarr: "Yep."
Zy'Aire: "It's what I've always wanted on a date!"
Jumarr: "Yep."
Zy'Aire (still cooing): "It's so beautiful. Where did you get it?"
Jumarr: "From the jew'ry store. And guess what? It was FREE!"
Zy'Aire (falling into his arms): "Oh, Jumarr!!"

I think the reaction to this statement was a little overdone. But Zy'Aire is nothing if not born for the stage.

sudden growth

Today, while on the carpet, we were having a great discussion about the best parts of the day. Mikea, out of nowhere, interrupted, and said, sounding quite surprised: "I'm growing.....like a flower!"

I wonder if she could actually feel the neurons firing and the synapses connecting. And she used a simile, no less. While we still have to work on listening when others are speaking, maybe there's hope for her after all. 

VeggieTales makes the day

Today we had indoor recess because it rained last night and the ground was still a little damp. (What do they expect the kids to do? Get down and start rolling around on the slightly damp woodchips? Heaven forbid.) I had checked out a VeggieTales video from the library the last time I was there, so I popped it in and we settled down to watch. Well, they started to settle down and I spent the time mediating fights and keeping peace. 

Note: I have never seen a VeggieTales video. The only thing I know about VeggieTales is that they have the song "I Love My Lips" which I thought was about the funniest thing I'd ever heard my first year in college. 

The video was called "The Lord of the Bean," which I thought sounded vaguely familiar. As I put it in the computer, I thought maybe it would have something to do with The Lord of the Flies, with vegetables creating societies that then destroy themselves. Nope. I was way off. It was a spoof of The Lord of the Ring, except that it was a bean, and Bilboam had left it to Todo via Randolph. When Todo put the bean into the fire to make sure it was the Bean of Power, the writing on the Bean said, "If you can read this, you are standing too close." The other Beans of Power were capable of 1) making amazing meals, 2) changing one's appearance, 3) creating clothing, and 4) producing small kitchen appliances. Unfortunately, those to whom the Beans were given weren't that bright, and ate them. I thought it was hilarious. It was the funniest video I have seen in a long time. Of course, my students missed all of the humor, but I felt a lot better. I don't think they've ever seen me laugh that hard. I'm looking forward to the next rainy day so we can watch a little more of Todo and his Bean of Power.

on the way to the zoo...

I ran a red light today. Deliberately. I never thought I'd do that. I was driving through downtown DC on the way to the zoo (picking up forgotten lunchboxes from yesterday - thank you zoo for not throwing them away!) and was stuck in traffic on Florida and P NW. I was about the third car back from a stoplight, and we'd been sitting there for a while. Suddenly both lanes started moving forward, even though the light was still red. I could find no reason why we were moving, but everyone else was doing it, so I did it too. We crept through the light and continued up Florida and that was that. But if I'd run a red light because everyone else was doing it, maybe I'd jump off a cliff, too. Here I never thought I would, but today has opened up new horizons for me. 

for a healthy you, please avoid scissors

This morning for Shared Writing we were supposed to come up with a list of things that were good and bad for you to eat. The Good For You To Eat list went well, complete with my drawings of watermellon, strawberries, broccoli, etc. The Bad For You To Eat list, however, surprised me. I was thinking along the lines of large amounts of candy, french fries, and ice cream. My students, on the other hand, were a little more practical. The top four items on the Bad For You To Eat list? Dirt, worms, rocks, and scissors. I definitely wouldn't recommend attempting to eat scissors. That might create problems.

the difference between boys and girls...

My students are getting better at solving their own problems, but apparently this one needed adult assistance.
Oluwatosin: "Ms. Marshall, Amaya and Yamileth keep playing with me. "
Me: "Well, you are all in the same center. It's good that they're playing with you." (Oluwatosin is often upset because so-and-so is not playing with him.)
Oluwatostin: "But they keep talking to me."
Me: "Why don't you want them to talk to you?"
Oluwatosin: "They talk too much."
Me, ready to move on: "They can talk to you. That's ok."
Oluwatosin: "But they want to be my friend."
Me: "But that's good! Why don't you want to be friends?"
Oluwatosin: "They talk too much."


I took a two-day vacation from work (because I could) and now my kids are crazy. It feels like it's back in October. Let that be a lesson to me.

hardware problems

I think I'm wired wrong. Cloudy skies make me happy. I like rain and snow and wind and sleet, and sometimes even slush. Blue skies are boring and slightly depressing. I feel energized and excited when it's cold outside and am grumpy and sluggish when it's hot. My opinions aren't accepted very well when vocalized, so I thought I'd share them here. Yay for bad weather!

the shoelace situation: the latest update

I'm not sure why I find my students' shoelace situation so funny, but I really do. The shoelace situation, consists of the untying and retying and retying and knotting of shoelaces while my students sit on the carpet, supposedly learning from me. I think it is hilarious - while being incredibly frustrating and annoying at the same time. 

Anyway, the latest tidbit of shoelace humor was on Friday, when I had my students stand up to sing a song about position words (ie. beside, behind, in front of). Dayonia didn't stand up. I repeated my direction to stand up. She threw me a pleading look and raised her arm to explain. Her hand was attached to her shoe. She had somehow managed to tie her wrist to her shoe, using her shoelace. And it was tied tight. Now, I've seen some interesting knots and combinations over the course of 330 days of sitting on the carpet with 4-yr-olds. I've seen shoes tied together (remember Amari trying to board the bus with her shoelaces tied together because she couldn't get them undone?) and shoelaces tied to other students' shoes (Jabari and Jaylen, last year, thought they were pretty clever until they wanted to do different things at center time - and then they hustled to untie them!), shoelaces used as chewtoys (a current common practice) and shoelaces pulled out of the shoes altogether and used for a wholly different purpose (such as smacking the nearest neighbor with them - Jayson has a hard time keeping his shoelaces in his shoes). Pablo would untie his shoelaces as soon as he got to the carpet and then knot them over and over until there were no strings left, which was quite effective in keeping his shoes tied. Another current trend is to have laces so long that there is about a foot of string left over even after a bow is tied - which is incredibly tempting for students walking next in line.  But never have I seen anyone tie their wrist to their shoe. It really was quite impressive: I don't think I could do it. 

Well, as Dayonia was going to be in the way of our song, I indicated that she needed to step off to the side until she fixed her shoelaces. She awkwardly jumped/hobbled off the carpet, knocking several other students over as she did so, and got to work untying her shoelace. It took her quite a while, since, as I said, it was really tight, and she had done a good job with the knot. Luckily for me, I discovered the problem right before we began a song, so I had a decent reason for my uncontrolled laughter.  

the benefits of an accent

Today I walked to the post office to get enough postage to mail my taxes. (They're done! Hooray!) While waiting in line, I noticed a woman speaking to a postal worker about a box she wanted to mail to Russia. She had a great accent and clearly didn't completely understand all of the customs associated with mailing packages. The postal worker patiently went over all options with her, showed her how the box should be packed, and even lent her the packing tape to do it with. The woman in front of me and I watched this interaction with fascination. After a few minutes, she said, "Maybe you have to have an accent to get that kind of help." I agreed that it was probably helpful. She said, "I can pull out a great German accent if I need to." I encouraged her to do so. 

Just then she was called up to the desk, and the Russian woman took her box and tape and went to pack it up. I was then called up to pay my extra $.25 in postage because my stamp was outdated. As I was digging through the change in my purse, the woman who was in front of me in line walked past me on the way out the door. "It doesn't work," she said. "Apparently you have to be from Russia."

Seen while walking to the post office: old woman with cane jaywalking across six lanes of merging traffic on main thoroughfare. She has more guts than I do. Or I have more brains than she does. Either way, crazy!

mixed messages

I sent a student to the office today. I know. I hate to do it. But he was hitting other kids out on the playground, and when I told him to stop, he hit me. Nope. That doesn't happen. So I hauled him up to the office, called his father, wrote up the PS74 form, conferenced with the assistant principal, and left him there. A little bit later I brought the student's backpack down to the office for when his father came to pick him up. When I arrived, the principal was in full disciplinarian mode, discoursing about respect, ect, and I chimed in, "uh huh....that's right." The principal ended with "Don't mess with me; I have my flats on (referring to her shoes - she wears heels to school but changes into flats when she means business)." Just then I made eye contact with her, and we both cracked up. Big belly laughs, with my student still glowering at waist level. When we quieted, she said, "It's been a long day" which I seconded, and then excused myself. Talk about mixed messages for the kid, especially since the situation really wasn't funny. But I felt better after a laugh. I hope the principal did, too.

name that animal

As part of the theme for this month (In the City, In the Country), we're learning about farms. I thought all children knew the names of farm animals, until I pointed to a chicken and asked Chidiebere what animal it was. His response: "That's a Bock-Bock." Me (horrified): "No, it's not!" As a result, we are focusing a lot more on farm animals than the curriculum recommends, but, hey. They need to know this stuff. Especially Chidiebere, who subsequently called a goat a moose, and then, as if he had just pointed to the wrong animal, called the cow the moose. When asked what noise cows make, he said, "Mooooose. Mooooose." 4-yr-old logic at its best.

learning our letters - the ones in the alphabet

Amaya knows every letter except for Ee, Ff, Gg, Hh, and Ii. I haven't figured out how she can learn everything except for that section of letters. I've been working with her for weeks just on these letters, but it doesn't seem to be sticking. So, with this in mind, today goes like this: Me and Amaya, sitting at the small group table, working on letters. I write a letter on the white board and she names it. She then gets to erase the letter with her finger (note: a very powerful reward. She'll do a lot to erase a white board with her finger).
I write 'h' on the white board.

Amaya (glances at it and then starts looking around the room): "I know the animal that starts with that letter."
Me (thinking this is great progress and that she'll say 'horse' and then remember the letter 'h'): "Good. What is it?"
Amaya (still gazing around the classroom): "It's that animal that has two ears.....two little ears....they poke up....."
Me: "Yep, uh huh?"
Amaya (now staring intently at what Cycret is building in the math center): "Two little ears....and a little nose....it pokes out....with a little mouth..."

Clearly she's not going to get it. I write 'e' on the white board.

Me: "What letter's this one? (E E E E E E!!!)"
Amaya: "Oh, that's the easy letter. That's the one that's not in the alphabet."

It's good to make that distinction. Apparently it's easier to learn letters that aren't in the alphabet than it is to learn those that are in the alphabet.

unionizing

I see this sign every day when I drive home from work. It cheers me up. I still haven't come up with any good explanations for when (or why) the bakery confectionery workers and the tobacco workers got together to make a union, but, hey. Whatever.

Happy Bunny Rabbits!

No, this is not some weird meteorological first day of spring ceremony. As a kid, on the first day of the month (any month), Mom would wake us up by saying 'happy bunny rabbits' to us. Apparently she had gotten it from a roommate in college. It wasn't until I was in college and saying 'happy bunny rabbits' to my own roommates on the first of each month that I wondered where it came from. Apparently it's an English tradition that's supposed to bring good luck. So happy rabbits day to everyone!

an extra few gallons of gas

I stopped by the gas station to fill up my car, and went inside to see if I could buy a five-gallon can to fill with gas for future emergency purposes.

Me: "Do you have any five-gallon gas cans?"

Station Attendant 1: "Are you out of gas?!"

Me: "No, I -"

Station Attendant 2: "You're out of gas?!"

Me: "No, the car's -

Station Attendant 1: "You're not out of gas?"

Me: "No, the car's fine. I'm fine. I just want to buy a can to put gas in."

Station Attendant 2: "What for? You're not out of gas?"

Me: "No, it's in case of an emergency."

Station Attendant 2: "Oh, for the future."

Me: "Right. Do you have any?"

Station Attendant 1: "We have one-gallon and two-gallon containers. Where're you going to put it? In the car?"

(Both laugh resoundingly)

Me: (Disdainfully) "And get in an accident and have my car blow up? No. I'll put it in the garage."

The conversation continued for another 10 minutes while I convinced them that this was not the weirdest thing they had ever experienced. They found a two-gallon container, dusted it off, demonstrated repeatedly how to use it, and then charged me 16 bucks. For a container that holds two gallons of gas. I fill up my entire tank for less than that. Bah.

adding visuals

I'm beginning to think that my program director has a vendetta against me. Last month's professional development I was relegated to Tracking Data 101 with the first years who were too swamped with surviving each day to figure out what to teach their students. Not that I'm the most amazing teacher, but I've progressed beyond that point. This month I'm assigned to go to a class whose purpose is "how to incorporate visuals into your lessons." I'm supposed to bring in a lesson that I want to improve by adding visuals. Visuals? Into my lessons? Let's think about this. I teach 4- and 5- year olds. Would it be more effective to teach them about apples by showing them an apple or by bringing in a picture of an apple? All my teaching is done with objects. I teach math by using little dinosaurs and sharks and tiny people whose arms and legs move (a little). I teach science by letting them dig around in the dirt and plant seeds as make sand castles. Literacy is composed of stringing letters onto necklaces to make their names. I've been teaching all about construction for the last three weeks. Should I really take the toy saws, drills, screws, nails, levels, screwdrivers, hammers, blueprints, hardhats, dumptrucks, cranes, rollers, bulldozers, etc., out of the dramatic play center and post pictures of various tools and trucks? Honestly. I don't think adding visuals to my lessons is going to improve my instruction. I've already made all the visuals I need. If they really want to help improve instruction, they could improve the manipulatives. Some of my rhyming objects (tree, bee; mouse, house) have gone missing; the cash from the cash register is getting a little torn up; and one student was fixing the wooden stop light with such energy that the claw separated from the handle of the hammer. My students are also fascinated with jackhammers - maybe because it's so fun to vibrate your entire body and add the sound effects - it would be nice to get something like that from a professional development. But really. Adding visuals to my lesson plans? What are they thinking? Maybe the Tracking Data 102 class was already full.

applying the standards

Today during center time I looked across the classroom and saw Dayonia and Chidiebere stand up from the math table, put their hands on each other's shoulders, and lean towards each other. I thought they were going to kiss, and I was about to lay down the law about kissing in the classroom (there've been a few outbreaks of kissing in the classroom). However, they didn't kiss, so I held my tongue and watched. They tilted their heads up as far as they could, pressed their chins together, and moved their hands straight out from their eyebrows while saying, "no, I'm taller." Apparently they were trying to see who was tallest, but they haven't quite gotten the technique down. But at least they were using mathematical terms comparing size, so I can mark that down as evidence of Voluntary State Curriculum Standard 2.A.3.b. in case an administrator wants proof of what my students are learning in school. And I'm glad they weren't kissing.

jello hearts

Mom sent me a Valentines Day package, and reminded me of a previous year's package. She had sent these little jello-like hearts that were really thin, and wiggled just like jello. But I wasn't positive. I debated a few days about whether they were jello or not, and I finally decided to eat one to see. It wasn't jello. A roommate came home at about the time of my experiment, and notified me that they were window clings. When I called mom to thank her for the package, I told her of my jello dilemma and resulting experiment. She thought it was hilarious that I could ever make such a mistake. I suppose I learned my lesson. At least I didn't have any side effects from one small window cling inside me.

what was that?

Most of my students struggle to some extent with their verbal ability. Anthony had no ability to make any sounds when he started school in September, and he still knows only a couple words in either Spanish or English. He has trouble putting sounds together. "Good morning" sounds like "G-u-d-mo-r-n-ing." Oluwatosin already has a verbal IEP so I recommended that he be tested for articulation delays. He was tested (a minor miracle) and found that although he did not have six ending sounds (/b/, /l/, /r/, etc) and four middle sounds, he did not need any extra support. Mikea is even worse. She's great with most of the vowel sounds, but she can only say a couple of consonant sounds. So when she needs to use the bathroom, she says "I a ue e eeaaaooo." But, of course, she doesn't qualify for an IEP because she's not two years behind in two academic areas. Oh, she's far enough behind in many areas, but they're not necessarily academic. So she won't receive any help. Most of the other students have difficulty, too, but not as bad as these three. 

This morning I asked the class what they were going to do over the weekend, and then I called on Oluwatosin, Mikea, and Anthony, all in a row. That was a mistake. Oluwatosin said, "I goi to palay wiff my baman gaeboy." Me: "You're going to play with what?" "My baman gaeboy!" (Oluwatosin is good about getting louder when someone doesn't understand what he says.) I was still confused. Another student translated: "His Batman gameboy." Me: "I see. Mikea, what are you going to do?" Mikea: "I oiiiii paaaai ieaaa aes-paaa." Me: "You're going to do what?" Mikea, barely whispering: "I oiiii paaai ieaaa aes-paaa." Me, to the class at large: "What did she say?" Students: "She's going to play with her pink toys." Me: "Oh. Anthony, what are you going to do tomorrow?" Anthony: "Jstoambielyskl Ssthelingle anltiehgnitel adlis stilen vlien liensliavnl elainsle alvienlsilves. Tieslfin tielsfne slinetlsd vlies avoeslrn aoresl aigle glaiers lit alisnl f." Me, nodding intently, focused, and paying great attention: "Uh huh....mmm...wow....that sounds like a fun weekend, Anthony. You're going to play outside?" He nods. No one knows what he said, and he doesn't know what I said, but we all just pretend together.  

The worst is when one of these three want something. Today, for example, Oluwatosin approached me and solemnly asked, "Ms. Mrsa, cn I pidle malvea?" Me: (Pretending I know what he's asking.) "With the blocks?" Oluwatosin: "Yah." Me: (hoping it won't get either of us in trouble later, but not having the time to continue guessing): "Ok." I still have no idea what he wanted. 

One interesting development is that all the students have become very careful about listening to what someone says in case they are needed to translate. Today during circle time Jayson responded to a question about what we could build. He said a word that was either "birdhouse" or "bunny house." The entire class instantly took sides and a heated debate  of the "yes it was!"/"no it wasn't!" type began. Was that an /ir/ or an /un/ sound in the middle? It's hard to tell. Jayson didn't even know. I ruled that it was "birdhouse" and moved on to something else before tears, fists, or nasty looks got out of hand. 

famous people

Overheard in the hallway outside my classroom:
Student, referring to pictures on a bulletin board: "Look, there's Obama!"
Teacher: "President Obama. Do you recognize anyone else?"
Student: "...................................."
Teacher: "This is Martin Luther King, Jr. And this is George Washington Carver, who gave us peanut butter. Isn't that great? And this is a nurse."

I'm glad that there is a bulletin board in the hallway depicting famous African Americans during Black History Month. But aren't there individuals that impacted our world in more important ways than creating peanut butter and a nameless nurse? Who would be on a bulletin board celebrating European Americans? Or Asian? Or Hispanic?

hooray for 'bad' weather

Hooray for delayed openings and early closings of school buildings because of beautiful snow! Today we dismissed two hours early. We had lunch by 10:00 am, and the students were out of the building by 12:00. (A few complained that they didn't get snack, but I didn't have much pity for them, since it was still before noon.) An added perk is that any county classes are also cancelled. Therefore, I didn't have my evening class tonight (wahoo!) and, in preparation for the weather tomorrow, my evening class tomorrow is also cancelled (double wahoo!). The only thing that could make this even better is if we had a delayed opening tomorrow. That would mean that I would have the easiest day ever, with only about 3/4 of my students. And I'd get to sleep in. Sounds perfect to me. 

black history month

Today I met with my administration to discuss instruction. She wanted to know what I was planning on doing for Black History Month. My initial response of 'learning about Black history and the people who shaped it' was not enough. She relayed a story of a friend/relative of hers who teaches first grade. In one learning center, the students boarded a bus, paid the fare, got off the bus, and went to the back to get on the bus. According to my administration, "These students were really into it. They knew exactly what they were doing and why they had to do it. They were really into the whole movement." What movement? I'm all for teaching history, but this feels more like propagating racial resentment than anything else. I'm uncomfortable teaching only Black history for the entire month, despite the pressure to do so. What about my three Hispanic students and my one White student? We didn't celebrate a month of Hispanic heritage, and I can't think of any inherently White holidays that we have celebrated. How will they feel during a month of celebrations that they cannot participate in? Last year in the neighboring class, the teacher asked if anyone knew anything about Martin Luther King, Jr. The response? "White people killed him." Thankfully the teacher didn't leave the discussion at that, but it shows the mindset that already exists. I guess I'm struggling with the difference between celebration and segregation that occurs everywhere, but especially in our schools.

Mist' Jordan

I love the janitor in my school. He's an anemic-looking man of indeterminate age, greying and a little stooped. He calls me Puddin'. As in "Hey Puddin'!" I've never been called Puddin' before. Maybe he calls all white women Puddin'. I wouldn't know. His name is Mr. Jordan, which is actually pronounced more Mist' Jordan. We follow a script whenever we meet:

Mr. Jordan: "Hey Puddin'!"
Me: "Mornin', Mist' Jordan!"

Once a week or so he propositions me, normally as I bring the students into the lunchroom. We also have a script for this interaction:

Mr. Jordan: "Hey! You! Puddin'!"
Me: "What you want?"
Mr. Jordan: "You, me, Friday, Sat'day, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday." (Holds up 5 fingers.)
Me: "Yeah?"
Mr. Jordan: "You, me, Sou' Carolina, beach."
Me: "You payin' for this?"
Mr. Jordan, pretending to be hurt: "How'm I sposed to get da money?"
Me: "When you get the money, Mist' Jordan, then let me know." I walk away with my students, laughing.
Mr. Jordan: "Hey Puddin'!" (Starts mumbling to himself and walks away)
My students stare at the both of us as they hear this exchange. I would never let them call me Puddin', and they've never heard me lapse into the more casual speech Mist' Jordan inspires.
I saw Mist' Jordan this morning, and we only had one variation in the script:

Mr. Jordan coming with mop to clean up yet another mess in my classroom: "It's early this morning, Puddin'."
Me: "Yes. Yes it is."

georgetown

I'm not sure what prompted this memory, but after my first year of college I went home to work for the summer. One day as I was running errands in Kalispell, I stopped at a gas station to fill up the car. I noticed that Milo and Logan Funk (twins that were in my grade - I had a crush on Milo for years) were also filling up. We awkwardly exchanged hellos and tried to make casual conversation until our gas tanks were full. They asked where I was going to school (BYU-I), and I in return asked where they were at. They said they were at Georgetown, as though it were an important place. For some reason, I thought that Georgetown was in South Dakota. I didn't have much to say to that (what is there to say to someone going to school in South Dakota?), and that was the end of our conversation. They drove away, and I haven't seen or heard from them since. Anyway, when I remembered the incident, I realized that Georgetown is not in South Dakota, and it is would be a good place to go to school. I hope I see Milo and Logan at a high school reunion so that I can laugh with them about that.

back in the saddle

I knew I was back when the sky was still dark when work started...and Cycret wet her pants before the day even began...and when Oluwatosin burst into tears and slugged the kid next to him...and when Amaya brushed a vibrant, difficult-to-remove blue paint all over the easel instead of her paper...and when I needed a nap by 2:45. Yep. Back to reality.