Can't make this shit up...

My life has been busy which is why I haven’t been blogging.  A week before school started, I got a phone call from the Interview #2 people.  They called to ask if I would step into a long-term subbing position for the 7th grade Language Arts (MY DREAM JOB).  I of course quickly agreed.  So I started the year with these kids, I am the only teacher they know.  

Which leads me to my story.  I have always been told, by other teachers, not to teach in the same city you live in.  Today I discovered why.  I teach about 20 minutes away from my house in another city.  After school I decided to make a quick stop at the Walmart by the school for a few items.

As you know, I am seven months pregnant and I have well, a problem pooping.  The Chief really can’t make fun of my rabbit pellet poo anymore.  I have the opposite problem.  I think I might be taking in too much iron because now it is painful to poop because I have...well....horse turds.  Gross, I know.  It gets better.

Rabbit poo looks like raisins!

Did you really think I was going to put a picture of horse poo?  Gross!

So I am at the Walmart, picking up a few items, and go ahead and grab some Preparation H while I am there.  It gets better.  Wait for it.

There I am standing in the 20 item or less check out line reading the US magazine, that just so happened to be screaming my name, when I get a tap on the shoulder.  Wait for it.

A student and her mother are standing directly behind me.  I immediately start visiting with them, talking about the student’s recent progress on her descriptive essay we are working on in class.  As I talk, I approach the counter where I quickly throw my five items on the little bar.  We continue chatting when I hear this annoying, “BEEP...BEEP”.  I turn to see the checkout girl attempting to scan my butt cream.  Instead of pulling up a price, the screen simply says: <CLEAR>.  WAIT.  FOR.  IT.

After three or four more attempts at pounding on her keyboard, she finally interrupts our conversation with, “Ma’am, do you know how much the Preparation H was?”

We stop chatting so I can address the checker lady who now is starting to look more like Satan with a blue vest.  My mind quickly races trying to think how I am possibly going to get out of this without killing any chance I might have maintaining respect from this parent, and without traumatizing a child.  I could say:

A: How the hell did that get there?  That isn’t mine!

B: My elderly mother put that in there, and she is now wandering the store somewhere...no biggie, she can get it another time.

C: Preparation H?  Holy Cow!  I meant to get toothpaste!! This pregnancy brain is REALLY getting to me!

Instead I muttered, $5.50 or so...silently praying she wasn’t going to announce a “Preparation H price check on Checkout #3” over the loud speaker.  Luckily, she typed in the $5.50 and moved right along to my next item.

I then turn back to the two innocent bystanders and ended the conversation with some bull about the weather changing and how the student shouldn’t forget to study for tomorrow’s test.  I walked away with my head down, shame crawling up my neck, and my Preparation H in my bag.

Can’t.  Make.  This.  Shit.  Up. 

Going Green

Chief: We are almost out of toilet paper.

Me: Don’t use so much.

Chief: ....

Me: You only need three squares.  Tear off three, fold it in thirds, wipe, fold, then wipe again.

Chief: That only works for your rabbit turds.  That doesn’t work for a real poop.

Me: Don’t diss my poo because you don’t know how to ration toilet paper.

Chief: Again, get some toilet paper, we are almost out.

Me: You know I buy Charmin right?  It is two-ply toilet paper.  You can rip off three squares and separate them into six!  Double the paper...AND you are “Going Green!”

Chief: Two reasons not do to that. One, it’s a septic system so the enzymes eat up the paper already.  Two, Daddy got a job, get me more toilet paper.  

Gray BFF Part 2

Let me explain how Gray BFF came into my life, and tell you where we currently stand in our relationship.  I came downstairs one Saturday morning after sleeping in.  I probably sauntered downstairs around 9:30, despite what the Chief says.  I went straight into his office, which is where he always is on Saturday mornings.  I went over and sat in his lap.  This is how our conversation goes:

Me: Hey.

Him: Good morning!  Do you love me?

Me: Well, of course I love you!

Him: Unconditionally?

Me: <<long pause>> What the hell did you do?

Let me interrupt.  I am not a morning person (oh the horror!).  You are lucky if you get a smile out of me before 11.  

Him: Ummmm...

After he says this, he clicks on one of the background windows on the computer, and this is what I see.

This is what I feel...

Him: Yeah, so I’m gonna need you to... (Office Space) go get dressed so we can go get it.

Me: You bought a flippin’ (like that choice of word?) car?

Him: You slept in!  I couldn’t help myself!  I didn’t know I was actually going to win the bid.

Me: OMG, you bought a flippin’ car?  While I was sleeping? You have GOT to be shitting me right now!

Him: I am a little shocked myself...

Me: Oh good, well that makes everything better.  Let me make sure I understand this.  I slept in, you bought a corvette, and now you want to just mosey on over there and pick it up?

Him: Yup, but we need to stop by the bank first.

So we get to the guys house, hand him the cash and he hands us the keys.  Chief takes them, gets in the corvette, and then looks up at me (corvettes sit REALLY low).  

Him: We have a problem.

Me: What, did you buy another car on the way over here?

Him: No, I can’t reach the pedals, and the seat won’t move forward.

Me: Oh, well aren’t we in a pickle.... 

No matter what the Chief says, we are the EXACT same height.  I have long legs, and he has a long torso.  So when he gets in my car, he moves the seat up, and the rearview mirror up.  When I get in his truck I move the seat back, and the rearview mirror down.  

Me: I guess this means I will have to drive.  Bummer.

Chief: Well, it was for you anyways, so you might as well drive it.

Me: WHAT?!?  This is mine?  

Chief: Yup.  

Needless to say, I then ordered, ehem politely asked, him to remove the top.  So I drove my new car home.  We instantly clicked!  We did have a little chat on the way home about what her insides were looking like.  I explained that she stunk, and she explained that my pregnant butt looked ridiculous inside her.  We put aside our differences, and when I got home I got to work.  

The Chief went out of town for a few days, and I asked a friend of mine (Handy Friend), that is the handiest person I know, to come and help me fix her up.  I ordered all new insides for her (carpet, seats, door panels, stereo system).  By the time the Chief got home, he was looking at a new car!  Here is my video diary of the five days it took to gut her and redo her.  BTW-couldn’t have done ANY of it with out Handy Friend.  She rocks, and she taught me SO much about cars!!  LOVE her to pieces for giving up so much of her time to do this project with me :)

Check out my videos...

End of day 1

End of day 2

End of day 3

End of day 4

End of day 5

End of day 6

Quiet Game

Little Man...well he talks A LOT.  There are times I need to tell him he needs to rest his mouth so I can rest my ears.  This morning in the car, this is how that conversation went.

Me: Okay, it is time to be quiet now.  I think my ears are starting to bleed.

Little Man: Okay.  Hey, can we play the quiet game?

Me: I thought that is what I just said.  Be quiet.

Long pause....

Little Man: So are we playing?

Me: Stop talking.

Long pause....

Little Man: So did we start?

Me: Start what?

Little Man: The game!

Me: Why does it have to be a game?  Why can’t you just stop talking?  

Little Man: It’s more fun when it’s a game!

Long pause....

Little Man: Did you say, “go”?

Me: OMG.  

Little Man: Just say it.

Me: Go.

Long pause... (three minutes tops)

Little Man: Are we still playing?

Me: Please, quickly find me a pencil that I can stick through my eye.

Little Man: You lose.  You talked.

Me: You have GOT to be kidding me.  You talked first.

Little Man: It doesn’t count, because you weren’t clear on if we were playing or not.  

Me: It counts and now you are grounded.

Long pause...

Little Man: Can we play again?

Don't worry, I don't punch him in the face.
I know better than to leave bruises people can see.

My new BFF

In the past I have talked about my Blond BFF and my Brunette BFF.  Moving to Connecticut, I have had to leave them behind.

Blond BFF

Brunette BFF

The good news: I have a new BFF!!  Don’t judge, but she is gray.  So I will refer to her as Gray BFF.  She is older, but that is okay...I have always gravitated towards the older crowd.  She is AWESOME.  She loves to chill with me.  She loves to take trips to the mall (which I really needed a buddy for that).  She always has my best interest/comfort at heart.  Please look past her rough outside appearance because I love her.  Here she is.

My new 1981 Corvette

I know it's a little risque, but here she is with her top off

BTW, I will tell you later the story about how we met.  It's a good one, and I want the suspense to keep you coming back to my blog.  

Olympics

There are a couple times of a year that the Chief has his undivided attention elsewhere.  One of these are when Tour de France is on (first two and a half weeks of July), and during NASCAR season.  Luckily Nascar season only really takes a Sunday away, which happens to fall perfectly around a nap time.  NASCAR lasts nine months out of the year.  Do you wonder how the Chief, someone who works from 5 AM to 10 PM, has time to watch Tour de France?  

D V freaking R

He comes upstairs, laptop in position and watches Tour de France for like three hours while doing email.  What bugs me?  I can watch this three hour recording in like an hour and 45 minutes.  Chief?  It takes him a whole three hours because he is only half paying attention to it, and doesn’t fast forward through the damn commercials!!  Babe, take a short break from work/email so that you can watch your shit and turn your attention back to me.  That’s what life is all about, right?  Me???  I thought this 2.5 weeks of bicycling was bad.  The Olympics?  WORSE.  

I have learned to just accept that I am stuck watching the Olympics until midnight every night, and force myself to enjoy it.  I will admit...I’m kinda getting into some of it.  These people are amazing.  The best.  No room for error.  Last night, Chief and I are watching men’s 100 meter race.  This is how our conversation goes:

Chief: You know, the winner of this is the fastest man in the world.

Me: Well, not necessarily.  Not EVERY man chooses to enter the Olympic competition. There could be someone faster that is sitting at home watching this.

Chief: You’re right, there might be some dude in Africa that is faster with a lion running behind him.

Me: See?  Right!  There probably is right now!

Chief: He might not be the fastest man in the world, but at least he is faster than his bestie who already got eaten.  

Me: Poor guy.

As we are watching this, I start to imagine myself doing these competitions.  They make it look so easy.  I could totally do this stuff!

Me: Babe, I am fast.  I think I could do this.  I could totally be in the Olympics.  

Chief: You’re so fast your legs can’t keep up.  Need I remind you about your Hooters race?

Okay, so let me explain.  One night after a pleasant dinner at Hooters, Little Man challenges me to a foot race in the parking lot.  Knowing my legs are much longer than his, I decided to take him up on it.  I am in shorts and flip-flops.  Nuff said?  No?  Let me finish this fun story with this...I still have scars on both of my knees from my fall.  Needless to say, the brat won, ONLY BECAUSE I WAS IN FLIP-FLOPS!  I was winning before I decided to see what asphalt smelled like.  

Me: I was winning that race, Babe!  I had him!

Chief: Yes, you were going to win.

Me: I know you are rolling your eyes inside your head!  

Chief: No, you were winning.  I just don’t think that you and running are a good mix.  

Me: What about the hurdles?  I could do that!  I did that once in middle school.  

Chief: Really, how did it go?

Me: Okay, so maybe the Olympics aren’t my thing.  But I COULD do SOMETHING!  Hey, I’m gonna go downstairs and get ice cream, want anything?

Later, during mens long jump...

Me: Holy cow, did you see that guy?  He totally jumped like three times!

Chief: Hence the name of the event.  Triple jump.

Me: Last night, they had to jump when they hit the white stick by the dirt...all of a sudden they changed the rules?

Chief: Different competition.  That was the long jump.  This is the triple jump.  Triple means three.

Me: Yeah, I know what triple means, Jack Wagon.  

Even later...during women’s volleyball.  USA against Korea.

Me: That chick’s last name is Hooker?  Can you imagine if I had that last name with my first name?

Chief: Be grateful your first name isn’t Skanky.  

Me: Adorable, that’s what you are.  Simply adorable.     

  

Later, the next night... We are watching the men’s 5000K event.  For those of you that aren’t really keeping up...they are talking about a runner from Great Britain (Mo Farah) and how he trains with one of the Americans (Rupp).  Ryan Seacrest is interviewing the two friends that are competing against each other.

Me: Farah sounds like he is from London.

Chief: He is. 

Me: Oh, I thought his jersey said Great Britain on it.

Chief: That is London.

Me: What’s London?

Chief: Great Britain.

Me: It’s a city in London?

Chief: Oh. My. God.  Great Britain is the country.  London is the city.

Me: English major, not Geography.  Don’t judge.

This is the close of this.  I hope it was better than the closing ceremony of the Olympics...that made me want to poke my eyes out with a sharp stick.

Another job opportunity....

So my Texas trip was cut short.  I knew it would be risky taking a two week vacation right in the midst of job-hiring time.  As you know, I have been on two interviews...both fails.  So even without a job, the Chief and I decided that I would risk it and go ahead and take the trip to Texas.  If I got a call for an interview, I would simply hop back on a plane and head home.  Job comes first.  Little Man and I are on our way to Texas and we have a short layover in Baltimore.  Just as we land, I power up the phone.  About three seconds later it rings.  I look down at the phone and it is an 860 area code aka home area.  I immediately knew it was about a job.  I fully expected to be called for an interview at some point, but not before I even landed in Texas.  I answer the phone.

Hello?

Hi!  This is L T from J Elementary School (the school I did my long term subbing in).

Hello!  How have you been?

I am fine.  We have a third grade teaching position open and we would love for you to take it.

Wow! Well, I am not certified for third grade.

I thought you were 3-8?

No, I am four through eight.

Oh my!  Geez, I am so sorry!  

Not half as sorry as I am.  Please please call me again if you have something that comes open in fourth or fifth because I would love nothing more than to be back in your school!

We will, and again I am so sorry for the confusion, I really thought you were 3-8.

GRRRR.  That flipping close.  She wasn’t asking me to come in for an interview, she was offering me the job.  I am actually a little relieved because I didn’t really think they like me that much because before the end of the school year I had briefly talked to them about working there next year.  They flippantly told me they would keep me in mind but as of right now there just wasn’t any openings...or any money in the budget.  Sadly, I tucked my phone away and headed off the plane. 

I enjoyed my first week in Texas, spending time with my niece and nephews, and seeing three very close friends.  Early in, I logged onto the school websites (a every-few-days routine that I have taken on).  I noticed immediately that New London had an opening in a middle school...my dream area.  Then I noticed that it happened to be a school that I knew.  I had subbed in the school only one time, but made sure to introduce myself to the principal while I was there.  At the time, she didn’t have openings, but asked me to send my application and resume over to New London HR with a sticky note on top telling HR that I was asked to send my info over anyway (even though there were no positions).  At the end of the school year, I sent the same principal an email reminding her who I was and that I was still looking for a job.  She responded and told me she would keep me in mind throughout the summer.  So I pulled up that old email, and resent it to her saying I noticed she had an opening.  She responded and asked if I was available to come in the next day.  I told her I was on vacay, but that I would be HAPPY to shorten my trip if it meant a job opportunity.  She responded and asked me to come in Tuesday.  So here I am.  Interview three tomorrow.  I am not sure how I am going to overcome my lack of experience (if you remember is what killed me in my last two interviews).  Now, just to add a new wonderful obstacle, I am looking VERY pregnant.  There is no wrapping myself in duct tape this time around.  I have to come clean.  I’m afraid this is going to be my deal breaker.  No one wants to hire someone that is about to have a baby.  They are going to take one quick look at me and think the worst.  

1. She is going to need at least a six week maternity leave
2. She is going to be taking off all the time for doctor appointments
3. She is going to take more sick days than anyone on our staff
4. She may not even come back...so many new moms don’t

Somehow, I need to explain that...

1. I am a surrogate and don’t need a maternity leave
2. I will schedule all my appointments after school hours
3. I don’t take sick days.  Pregnancy is not a disease.
4. I WILL come back, because the best part about surrogacy is I don’t have to raise the kid!

Good luck, right?  I am a wreck.  I have no idea how I am going to work this in.  I have no idea how I am going to sell myself with a belly that is oversized and practically knocking the table over.  I knew going into the surrogacy, this was a risk I would be taking.  I knew that just as I started to show, I would be trying to get a job.  I prayed long and hard, and still chose to move forward.  It may bite me in the ass...and it may not.  The Chief thinks its going to hurt my chances.  So a few things I need to remember going into interview #3...

1. The book I am currently reading is NOT Fifty Shades of Porn, but A Tale of Two Cities.
2. Social Studies/History are NOT mindless subjects, and CANNOT be taught by just any hobo off the streets.
3. I was indeed NOT paddled in school for calling a teacher “devil woman”.  I was, however, captain of the football team, voted “most likely to succeed”, homecoming queen, AND President of the Student Council and National Honor Society.
4. Why yes, I AM pregnant...but don’t worry, it’s not mine, and I have absolutely no responsibility for it after I push it out.

Sounds like a plan right?  WRONG.  I’m never going to get a job!  Well, either way, pray hard for me.  If anything, pray that I don’t stick my foot in my mouth.