PENSIEVE

Sleep tight--no bedbugs to bite!! ~ Friday's 40PC #3

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Quick!  How does the scene below inspire you?  Does a snappy caption come to mind?  A few quick lines of verse?  A short, short, short story?  That's what Friday's 40 Photo Challenge is all about:  40 (or less) words in response to the weekly photo prompt. 

This week a few of you will go home with a wonderful surcie--a six-ball assortment of POPS Truffles deliciously packaged like the one at right (thanks to the generosity of 3 Sisters).  Don't--Miss--Out, k?!

  Ensconsed in fine linens,
Indulged for a night.
Chocolates and orchids,
Princess delights. Dreams chasing dragons
Armored brave knights
Then I wake up
(Reality bites!)

:) 

With over 25 million page views, you've probably seen this...

...but in case you haven't, allow me to share a funny:

Which begs the question "why is there a proliferation of kids eating/biting fingers on the internet??"  Which begs further, "Why are we laughing??"

Hehe...because it's daggum funny, that's why!

 

(In case youtube isn't loading on your page, click HERE to see "Charlie bit me...!")

Apparently being a Grotesquely Disfigured Anemic is grounds for rejection...Oh, yeah...and having the herpes, too

I have tried my darndest to donate blood TWICE this week.  They kicked me out both times.

[1]  "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we can't take you until that active, festering, Gargoylesque fever blister crusts over."

(Okay, okay, that's not what they really said, but it's sho nuff what I heard!)  At least I only have Type 1 herpes simplex virus (is it wrong for me to think it's funny that it's characterized as "infecting those body tissues that lie "above the waistline" "?).  If I had the "other" herpes, I don't think I could give at all.

[2]  "Ma'am, I'm sorry but your blood is too watered down."

I'm anemic...does this mean I have an EXCUSE for being so daggum tired all the time?  And to think I just thought it was because I'm not sleeping well (again). 

To add insult to injury, the pricked BOTH my middle fingers to see if they could get my 10.5 iron reading up to 12 1/2 (I think).  Pricking twice in four minutes does not generate iron for the ol' blood. 

Now, I'm typing under duress...YOU go wrap band-aids around your middle fingers and see how it hinders.  And yet, strangely, I'm c o m p e l l e d  to write about it, in spite of the hardship...hmmmm.

So...with all this adversity first thing in the morning, what else could I do?  I accidentally binge-shopped at Target...LOOK WHAT THEY HAD ON CLEARANCE, Y'ALL!  I COULDN'T HELP IT!!!  GO!  Quick, to your local store and clean 'em out before someone else does!

Cancer, the next best thing to Satan

It is rare for me to use the word "hate" and mean it, but I HATE cancer and I mean it.

Cancer robbed me of knowing my mom beyond childhood; it deprived my children from knowing their "other" grandmother; it cruelly took my paternal grandmother away just months after taking Mama; and I'm so thankful to say, while my sister had cancer, it didn't have her*--she's a 10+ year survivor.

Because May is Melanoma and Skin Cancer Awareness Month, Karen at Simply Amusing Blog has been asked by a group of local oncologists to write about prevention; they're using a Q & A format, and she's asking readers for questions for the physicians to answer.  Summer's almost upon us, the sun will be blazing guns in no time, so her goal is to get readers to think about better choices before any damage is done.

If you have ANY question about melanoma or would like any area discussed, would you please follow the link to Karen and let her know?  You can always leave a comment here, too, and I'll compile any I receive and pass them along via email.   Thanks!

Kudos to Karen for initiating this conversation...it's "good" bloggin', y'all :). 

BTW, I bet she wouldn't mind a bit if you wanted to pick up the graphic above and ask YOUR readers to submit questions (if you do, be sure to let me know and I'll come visit and make sure Karen knows!!).

(attributed to my Survivor-friend, Kathy, aka Swampwitch)

 

If Mama says "No!" ask Daddy

Pleading gaze
Achilles heel
Dad will melt
But Mama's steel.

Visit Laura Salas for more info on "15 Words or Less Poems".

Dead-blogging my sub day

"Live-blogging" inadvertantly turned into the never-ending, never-concluded what the heck is up with that?? post. 

Unintentional...yesterday's classes required more "up time" from me than "down" (as the day's previous had allowed).  It was relatively uneventful from start to finish, minus an incident with green Sharpie markers, body art, and an unwilling muse, and a stick tied with a piece of string on the end with a screw attached to it ("My mom said I HAD to bring that home", said after I had thrown it in the trash once after it was swung overhead lasso style....)

The punch line of my last class Tuesday which COULD go on and on if I was story-tellin' again involved late students, a trip to the nurse and a dead bird.

The end.

Turndown Service ~ Friday's 40PC #3

This week's 40-or-less photo challenge will leave you salivating.

"Why?" you ask.  Two reasons.

First, the photograph itself. 

Turndown Service at the Intercontinental Hotel, Buckhead, Ga.  May 2008.

Don't you wanna just slip into your coziest jams, crawl underneath the covers, carefully place the greeting card, chocolate and orchid on the bedside table just out of view (to be enjoyed again in the morning), arrange those pillows "just so"...and wriggle and squirm until your body finds the perfect position?  Then sleep for four days straight? 

Maybe that's just my weariness speaking after a long day and sleepless night.  While Tad and I have enjoyed a past romantic getaway to this very hotel, right now SLEEP sounds about as sexy as you can get! :)

This was the scene a few weeks ago after my sister and I attended the Metro Cooking & Entertaining Show in Atlanta and I hadHadHAD to capture the shot!  I **heart** priceline.com for making these types of places accessible.

Reason #2 to salivate: Do you remember my first post about the MC&ES where I mentioned my affections for 3 Sisters and their POPS popcorn truffles?  Well, I sent the girls a link to that post to let them know I was talking about them behind their back...AND THEY'VE OFFERED TO SHARE SOME OF THEIR TREATS WITH PENSIEVE READERS!  These three precious girls wrote me back with words of beauty and I was touched by their kindness and generosity.

If ever there was an incentive to join Friday's 40-or-less Photo Challenge, NOW would be it!  :)

Click the F40PC badge for details....  Does this photo make you long for your own romantic get-away?  A girls weekend full of shopping and fun?  Does it make you wonder how "the other half live".  Or maybe you could wax poetic about the merits of fine linens...however this picture inspires you, spend a few minutes writing your response, and then check back here ON FRIDAY to link your post and blog hop to see how others interpreted the picture.

Note:  if you comment to this post or have participated in the past, I'll send you a reminder email to link on Friday.

My preciouses

Rachel and Mussy, the babiest of the babies.

Here for WW?  You're invited to Friday's 40!  Check it out!!

More Wordless Wednesday photos
5 Minutes for Mom WW

Live-blogging my sub day ~ CONCLUSION ~

While I've got the kids working, I thought it'd be fun to live-blog my day; if I'm getting eaten alive and regurgitated, I'd want it memorialized (blogger to the end!).  What can I say?  I've got a computer, the internet, and it's impossible to "write" write, so I might as well "play" write.

First period.  Free.  Works out nicely so I could steady my footing and plan the day.

Second period.  7th graders.  For fun, I had them answer roll call with their favorite candy.  There was a hint of "good things" to come.  Typically, I don't think roll is actually called, but I want to know their names (easy, since I already know most of this grade).  We're working through a study of cells and their function.  Uneventful class.

I should've known that wouldn't last long....

Homeroom.  School is intense for six hours a day, homeroom should be a respite.  At the beginning of class, several of the guys exchanged dollar bills for change.  Miss Phillips has a snack stash in her room, so I assumed it was for that.

What happens when you "assume" anything (factor in these are 8th graders...)?  Y e a h ...exactly.

This falls under the heading "WHAT WAS I THINKING???!"

When one of the students came back to my desk to get more change, I investigated further.  They were playing cards...and brilliant deducer that I am, I connected the dots.  "Y'all are playing poker???  FOR MONEY?????" 

Ai yi yi......they weren't too happy when I put an end to that (although for half a second I thought about joining the game and cleaning their clocks) (I kid, I KID...I never can remember whether a full house beats two pair)  (am I an ingenue or a grifter?)

Third period.  8th grade.  This class came with a bit of "reputation"...I knew some of the jokers from past experience.  I thought I'd outsmart 'em.  One of their class projects is a wall-sized weather mural, complete with types of clouds, layers of sky, fronts--all labeled.  Only a few students can work on the mural at a time, so I asked the class who were typically the "most-disruptive-for-subs" students (please realize delivery of that question made it unobjectionable--they knew I wasn't name callin').

I chose two guys to work on the mural and thought that would keep them occupied and out of mischief.   

It did keep them occupied.  But for one, it was little more than an invitation to trouble.

The rest of the class was working on creating a 25-question study guide they'd exchange later in the week.  While I was answering a question, I heard a commotion in the back.  A student was grimacing in obvious pain, reaching for something in the back of his shirt and on his arm.

Hot glue.  Hot glue that was supposed to be used for labeling the weather mural--not maiming and torturing classmates.

This is NOT something you want to do under my watch (even if technically I missed it).

I knew my reaction mattered...it mattered for the rest of the day today, it mattered for tomorrow, and it mattered for my future "subbing" reputation.

My response?

I sent the offender to the office immediately; and while I didn't launch into my "I'm not here to be your friend..." speech, I did sternly and calmly express a "righteous indignation" on behalf of the student who was burned.  And, yes...I diatribed it can SO be a verb! "...Trust me, y'all WANT me to sub for you and I'm not about to put up with this kind of junk..." 

You could've heard a pin drop. 

They went back to work.  Q u i e t l y. 

Fourth period. 7th grade.  Eventful in that they FINISHED their study guides and we were able to review answers before the bell rang.  Except for Jimmy, who had the singular distinction of NOT EVEN STARTING HIS GUIDE until I came and looked over his shoulder; he BEGAN work on his outside the class, while I confirmed answers inside.

You don't want to mess with me.  Remember...I can stop a moving car with my bare hands.

Fifth period.  8th grade.  I can't remember...that was hours ago, right?  If I can't remember, that means it went well.  100% attendance, probably about 94% cooperation. 

Sixth period.  7th grade.  This is the class my son Thomas is in.  It's a large class, these kids know me, THAT works to my disadvantage.  Chatty, challenging, but still uneventful.  Aside from half of them leaning back in their chairs (a personal pet peeve), nothing eventful.

Seventh period.  Eventful.  Very...  to be continued....

The last period of the day came with a reputation...not the good kind.  Eighth graders, rambunctious boys...full of life and themselves. 

Because I HATE the thought of my own children being automatically pegged, and because typically I err on the side of favorable expectation.

Ooops, Blog, Interrupted.  CLICK HERE for the conclusion.  Sort of.

"They'll eat you up and spit you out"

It doesn't take Jedi mind tricks to persuade me; you might just say I'm easily influenced if I think your perspective has merit.

This weekend, we entertained some of our oldest friends from South Carolina.  It has been years since we spent substantive time together, and in that twinkling their children have matured into amazing young people, the oldest mere days away from high school graduation.  We've known these children since they were in utero and I enjoyed the eye rolls when I reminded Sam I used to change his diapers. 

Nothing like telling an 18 year old you've seen him naked.

You can imagine a visit like this includes a lot of stories; undivided, uninterrupted time lends itself to a fair amount of catching up (I wonder how many words were spilled in the brief time we shared).

One of the remarks Theresa shared clung to me like lint on black:  "Substituting at the kids' school this year is one of the best things I've ever done."  I asked her to elaborate and without batting an eye, she fired off half a dozen reasons why.

Hardly a remarkable statement, nothing spectacular in her declaration, it was annoyingly affecting to me.

Over the weekend, my 7th-grader's Science teacher suffered a great tragedy--the young man she's been dating and with whom marriage was imminent, died in a head-on collision while driving home to Indiana to celebrate Mother's Day. 

There are only two weeks left of school, but between now and then, there's still new material to cover and final exams to take.  On the scale of "busy", May is on par with December, just without tinseled decoration and immoderate gift giving.  I suppose there are loose ends in need of binding before the kids are out for summer, and probably more likely, moms are rushing to get a lot done while their 8-3 isn't filled with little bodies needing all manner of motherly attention. 

In other words, substitute teachers are difficult to come by at the last minute.

With Theresa's words lodged in my brain like a bullet in Miss Kitty's saloon, I toyed with calling Thomas' principal to offer to sub this week.  Two years ago I subbed often, but never above fifth grade.  In my mind--and probably in reality--middle school was another animal, and high school?  Even more beastly.  This year I haven't subbed at all; the thought of it alone wears me out (I think teachers are underpaid, and in today's climate, have one of the toughest jobs out there). 

I brought up subbing to my oldest two--the same children who used to say they'd like me to home school so they could be with me all the time!--and their responses were rapid fire, none of it encouraging.  "But our friends like you now" (the implication being they won't if I sub), "You don't r e a l l y want to do that...?" (less a question, more a threat), and my personal favorite, the title of this post (that one goes to my high schooler).

Of course I responded like any rational mother.  I nodded politely and silently to them (after a few whining "But WHY?"s)...and yesterday morning marched my behind to the middle school office to offer my services before I chickened out. 

Guess what?  They didn't need me.  Quick to act over the weekend, our principal had arranged a sub for the week (whew!).

Guess what else?  They called me ten minutes later to say, "Ooops!  We DO need you--Mr. Russell isn't available Tuesday and Wednesday after all..."

As Thomas fell into the car yesterday afternoon, I was drama-king greeted with "TELL ME IT ISN'T TRUE...TELL ME YOU AREN'T SUBBING TOMORROW!!" and as I confirmed apparently his worst nightmare, he pleaded and wailed in the background, "Just don't give 'em your 'I'm not here to be your friend...' speech!!"  That was followed by "YOU'RE SUBBING WEDNESDAY, TOO?" and him muttering various sounds of disconcertment.

Is it any wonder I dreamt about my car losing control last night, rolling backwards across traffic, refusing to go into gear--then worse "PARK"--and I finally had to open the door, jump out of the car, physically grab the door and pull to stop it with Super Human Mother Strength??   Seriously.

(If you read this today or Wednesday, I would be grateful your prayers and thoughts, not just for me and the students, but for Miss Phillips and her boyfriend's family....)

kirtsy isn't just "skirt" misspelled with an extra "y"

Did you hear about the controversy between skirt! magazine and sk*rt?  Seems that the skirt peeps--Goliath in this story--told the sk*rt chicks--the little, unintimidating David--to hit the road jack jill, don'tcha come back no more, no more.   The Philistine giant wanted naming rights, and overnight sk*rt had to change its name to avoid a trademark lawsuit.

Why am I telling you this out of the blue?  Because somebody's gonna win $1,000 in prizes by simply helping them Make the Change.

Jump on the bandwagon...you're gonna be in good company :).

Oh....and if you remember your childhood Bible stories, David put the smackdown on Goliath...!

Oopsidaisy!

Sauntering Soul's theme for Fun Monday--"How I can be a jerk"--wasn't something I wanted to write about, but three instances are so current I felt like I needed to own up to them; two of the three involve blogging.

[1]  Why I won't win mother of the year; written as both an encouragement to other moms and as a gentle reminder of what NOT to do.

I'm embarrassed about the following instances.  These fall under the category of Poor Blogging Etiquette:

[2]  Failing to post an entry for my friend, Karmyn's (Dreaming What Ifs) virtual baby shower carnival, hosted by Swampy (Anecdotes, Antidotes and Anodes).  Karmyn is one of my oldest blogmates and I couldn't be more thrilled for her upcoming arrival!  It never occurred to me how b.u.s.y. my week would become, preventing me from completing a post on Friday.  If I had posted something on Friday, I'd probably would've given her something like this--COMPLETELY OUTRAGEOUS and something the whole family could enjoy :).

[3]  Posting my OWN blog carnival late!!  "Friday's 40 Photo Challenge" didn't get posted until Saturday (if I were a dog, you'd see my head hung low looking up at you with puppy eyes, tail between my legs :/)!   SINCERE thanks to those of you who participated, and this week I promise I'll be early on time.

Because I'm genuinely excited about this weekly Photo Challenge and I feel so bad about what happened last week, this week's participants will be eligible to win some of these!  Trust me--it'll be worth your time for a chance to try them!

Haiku Momanista

A while back, Rocks in My Dryer sponsored a Mom-themed haiku contest, the winner to receive $1,000 from Egg Beaters.  Never content to write just one poem, I wrote several.  In honor of Mother's Day today, I thought I'd share the three I ended up submitting.  I'm not wild about haiku, but these were surprisingly enjoyable to write:   

Thank God for Mama,
she gave me the rarest gift--
Genes with perfect fit!
Took me years to learn
Mother really does know best.
"Kids, you have 'til noon."

Mama taught me this:
"Please" and "Thank-You" always work
Whining never does!

If you're feeling haiku-ish, feel free to write your own mom-themed poems in comments :).

Clouded View ~ 40PC #2

Sometimes you've just gotta "K.I.S.S."...and friends, that's what I gotta do today.  Although I composed award-winning poetry in response to this head-in-the-clouds photo--while snail-pacing through traffic, just before falling asleep every night and during my morning shower serenades--I can't remember a single one....

 

Soooo, my entry for this week's 40-or-less Photo Challenge is a photo title and definitely falls in the word/syllable limit:

"Vapored Rorschach Test"

I can't wait to see what you've come up with...be sure check out other participants to see how they interpreted the photo challenge.

WINNERS of last week's Brother's-All-Natural Fruit & Potato Crisps:  Karla, Dillo and Storyteller.  Thanks to Brothers for sending me some to try and samples to give to readers!  No give-away this week, but next week?  OH, MY!  You will DEFINITELY want to join Friday's 40 for the sweetest of surcies to be given away!!

{And, again...I had no idea I wouldn't be able to get this posted on time...SOOooo sorry and THANK YOU for those of you who posted an entry--next week I'll be early to make up for it!} 

YIKES!

I'll have the 40 Photo Challenge up a bit later today...as I mentioned in the painful-but-redemptive Mom, Interrupted, company's coming and I'm going 1,000 mph!  Only one Mr. Linky can be featured on my blog at a time, and I don't want to lose all the Poetic License links; so I'm going to compile a list with manual links and that takes time.  (Hey...this gives you time to WRITE a 40PC post if you haven't!  Wahoo!)

AND I'VE GOT 10,000 THINGS TO DO PEOPLE!  So unless you're coming over to help, just be patient with me, please? 

(That means Karmyn's baby shower gift is going to be posted later, too...:/).

Forgive me?  I swear this week has flown by in mach speed!

Mom, Interrupted

My back is turned to him, but I hear his steps as he approaches. Without turning to look at him, he says, "Mom, can you tie this?".

I'm in the middle of a cleaning frenzy--company's coming tomorrow, friends we haven't seen in years, and I want them to sense how welcome they are by everything being ready for their arrival.

Irritated and not turning to face him, I begin a practiced Mother response when clearly what I'm doing is much more important than his need. 

With voice unnecessarily raised I begin "You KNOW how to tie things--do you really think I need to stop what I'm doing to--" as I turn around to face him with a scowl on my face. 

He's standing there with an over-inflated pink balloon, disappointment creeping into his eyes, because if he COULD tie it, he would have.  I begin, "Can't your sister..." as he completes my thought for me--"...I asked her but she's cleaning her room."

In that moment, the more important of the two tasks crystallized, taking form and settling in my heart.  I realized this is my youngest; hardly a baby to the casual onlooker, but forever my baby.  This is the 11-year-old who gently reminded me the tooth fairy needed to come last night because she "forgot" the night before (I knew he "knew" and had no idea he was hopeful, expectant, wishful thinking).

I smiled, walked over to him, and tied his balloon.  He wanted to show me his magnets--one on the inside, one on the out.

And then I went back to mopping.