Nightmares

My nightmares usually involve someone chasing me. I know once I am caught, I will die. That's scary.

But I just awoke from a nightmare that was so disturbing that I can't get back to sleep.

I arrived at school early one morning. I had left early the day before because I was sick. When I turned the corner into the 2nd grade pod, I could tell that things were not the way I left them. Someone had removed my students' work from the wall outside my classroom door. For President's Day, my kids had made campaign posters based on a four-square writing activity. Each student had written about qualities that they have which would make them a good president.

I was so proud of their work! They had used fabulous handwriting, corrected their spelling errors before the final draft, and used convincing arguments to get their constituents to vote for them. They had even made paper doll representations of themselves. (This assignment really does currently hang outside my room, and I am very proud of each poster.)

My students' work was now gone, and in its place was work from another 2nd grade class. I was livid. One of my team members had done this to me while I was at home sick! Worse yet, the wall outside her room was blank. How come she didn't use her space? Why did she invade mine? (As is the case in many dreams, things are not quite as they are in real life. This particular teacher is not really on the second grade team, but she is at my school.)

I threw down my purse and briefcase, climbed the ladder which still stood next to the wall, and began removing the other class' work. Despite my anger, I was being gentle with the artwork because I didn't want to destroy it.

A mom of one of my students yelled, "Wait!" She told me that she wasn't finished hanging the work yet. I asked her who had told her to take down the campaign posters. She mentioned the other teacher. I then began yelling at her. I screamed that she had no right to remove my kids' work from the wall. That wall is for my use, not anyone else. I ranted about how I had spent an hour with a hot glue gun, hanging each one with care. Those posters had only been there for two days before she carelessly took them down. I demanded that she put everything back the way I had left it. She had no right to do that to me, especially not was I was home sick.

I stomped into my classroom to plug in the glue gun. When I returned, she had a proud smile on her face and her daughter's campaign poster in her hand. She hadn't realized that she had been removing my students' work. She apologized. She was so sorry. Of course, I felt HORRIBLE for having yelled at her. I never display such anger. She was simply being helpful. And I had been extremely rude. How would she ever forgive me?

It was with this feeling of shame that I awoke. Some nightmare, huh? I guess in my subconscious, shame ranks right up there with fear. My conscience is often disturbed during my waking hours when I feel I have offended someone with my words or actions. I don't feel at peace until I put it right and apologize. I know it was just a dream, but my spirit is disturbed because I hadn't made it right before I woke.

Wow! Pretty clouds!

my son's first words as we walked out the door this morning on the way to school

With all the grief he has brought me in the past few weeks, my son can still make me smile.

It must be done

I find it ironic that the week I have a root canal, the City decides to clean out its canal, too. Blogging has been the last thing on my mind, as I have barely been keeping my head above water for the past two weeks. Incredible pain in one of my molars sent me running to the dentist. Two visits later, I still can't open my mouth wide enough to eat a cupcake, but I have a temorary fix until my next appointment when they will crown the little beast. I hate teeth.

http://newsok.com/everything-from-skateboards-to-shoes-in-bricktown-canal/article/3641447

TMI

During an early morning Walmart run, there was only one lane open for checkout. The young female employee greeted us and began a conversation with

"So . . . a little while ago, I was standing here, fantasizing . . ."

I wanted to yell, "WHOA! STOP RIGHT THERE! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE!" Fortunately, for A and me, she finished the story with a lame ending about how she had been so deep in thought that another employee had startled her.

BTW, young vocabulary-challenged Walmart employee, the word you were looking for was . . .
daydreaming, not fantasizing. BIG difference!

The Yellow Book

Our family fundraising efforts continue! This time, the whole family helped earn band trip money. We picked up, bagged, and delivered 276 Yellow Books. It only took us about 4 hours. (Sarcasm doesn't play well in a blog.) I think the secret to delivering Yellow Books must be a truck. If only we had borrowed a truck, we could have delivered them all in one trip. Instead, we refilled the back of Super D's hatchback at least 4 times.

This week we will pick up more books and deliver the remainer of the route. We have about 350 houses and businesses left to do. Then, we have 3 more routes. I think we will earn about half of the money for A's trip with this fundraiser. It was a bit tedious, but we enjoyed being together. It was nice that the kids got to help with this one because we want to teach our children the value of working to earn money. We won't break it down for them and let them know how little they are making per hour.

Is this a kissing blog?

Super D [to me]: Let's go!
C: Can I go to the store, too?
Super D: No, it's just me and your mom.
C: Why can't I go? Are you going to kiss Mom?
Super D: Yes. I'm gonna kiss her right on the mouth.
C: That's why I'm not looking forward to puberty.

A New Experience for New Year's Eve

As 2012 begins, I won't pass on any great wisdoms learned from the past year. Today doesn't feel any different from yesterday. I don't have any great hopes that the next 366 days will be any better than the previous 365. 2011 was actually pretty good to us, and, as an optimist, I hope that each day is better than the previous one. As a school teacher, I tend to think of my life in semesters and summers anyway. A new year doesn't necessarily begin in January.

So, today doesn't really feel like a new beginning. It simply feels like a morning in which I am sleepy from staying up too late the night before. But what a great night it was!

In the same untraditional fashion as we spent Christmas 2011, we did something completely new and out of the ordinary. We skipped the obvious New Year's Eve parties. Super D and I worked a concessions stand at the local NBA arena. (Thunder up!) A is going to be in the high school band next year, and the band boosters let us work the gig to earn money for her high school band expenses. In addition to the usual uniform fees, the band will take a trip at a cost of about $1000 per student. In a single evening, Super D and I earned 1/5 of the cost of her trip!

And we had so much fun! We had been scheduled to work the condiment carts, restocking and keeping them clean, which could have proved to be a menial task. Instead, we were moved to a hot dog stand. I worked the register while Super D made the super-dogs for me. They have this giant footlong called the "Thunder Dog" which seemed to be a fave among the fans. Loaded with chili, cheese, and onions, it was enough food for about 3 people, although I suspect some of those men intended to eat the whole thing by themselves.

The crew we worked with had been working concessions stands for over 10 years, and they were a blast! We laughed all night long. Early in the evening, Super D and I had planned to stay downtown after the game to attend the New Year's Eve celebrations, but by the time we were finished at the hot dog stand, we opted for a late fast food dinner and a quiet celebration with the kids and my mom. We arrived at her house just before 11 p.m., and we rang in 2012 an hour early with the Big Apple and the crystal ball as we wore our hats and tiaras, blew our horns, and drank hot chocolate.

We had an exciting ride home when an overeager police officer looking for drunks pulled us over, tried to claim Super D had run a red light, and let us off with a warning. Right. You can't argue with a policeman, but all four of us know that Super D stopped and waited at that light.

Instead of celebrating a second time, 2012 slipped quietly in at our house as we all played separately on our electronics and went to bed just after midnight. (*Correction: Super D was up until after 3 a.m. watching Dog the Bounty Hunter, which my mom got him hooked on over Christmas Eve!) We were exhausted!

Happy New Year!