K for Krazyness

K is for Krazyness.  There are only so many blogs you can write on a plane.  I took the time to open up the Sky Mall magazine.  

Some of the stuff in these magazines is fantastic.  Others are just plain laughable.  Examples:

So here is a fantastic dog pillow.  But wait...there’s more!  If you spend the $175 on the pillow, we will give you a free $3.00 pillow for your dog...with his name on it!  That way he will know where he is supposed to sleep!

Seriously?  We have come to this?  You don’t even pick up the phone to talk to your families, but you want to put a collar on your dog that speaks to you?  Good Lord, this is embarrassing...for the dog.

Of course it’s light, jack wagon!  There is nothing in it!  Oh AND it can be wiped clean?  As opposed to our other luggage that we have to throw away if a little lotion spills?  If anything, buy it because it has adjustable straps that you can buckle your clothes in.  We want to make sure those clothes don’t go flying around in the suitcase while traveling.  That will make for a miserable trip.  

I might like this.  I always wanted to look like an industrial park lawn man.  Instead of blowing shit around, I get to suck shit up.  This would make for an exciting Friday night.

Look, if you are so blind you need one of these, it is time to buy books on tape.  It’s cheaper and you won’t have to worry about the husband stealing the magnifier for different purposes.  

Yeah, because that’s EXACTLY what I want to do.  Make my cellulite smooth so my husband will want to rub his hand over the rolls of it.  I assure you, if this little machine firms your fat chunks, we would all have one.  Getting off the couch will also firm the fat, and it’s free.

 

If you buy this thing to fix your breathlessness problem, I assure you will have a whole new set of problems on your hand.  Walking around with this fancy thing held to your face is going to make you look super awesome.  They should change this ad to: WHO NEEDS AN INHALER OR DOCTORS?  Get this to fix that breathing problem!

Yes, it does say: Finally, your dog has a yard of his own.  Want to know what your dog is thinking?  How stupid do you think I am?  You think you are fooling me with this?  You only think I am using this fake fire hydrant to piss on, I am really pissing under the bed, then wiping my ass across your pillow when you aren’t home.  

Take a second to really look at this picture.  Do you see the lady in the bottom right corner?  She is wearing this helmet and reading a book.  I can hear it now: Hey babe, do you mind passing me my super-cool-bad-ass alien helmet so I can wear it while I read?  I think I would rather go bald then put on this helmet that screams dumb-ass on board!  

Yes, yes.  Without question.  This is most definitely going to quiet a screaming baby.  Travel with EASE.  Just get a fuzzy bottle cover and the baby will stop screaming.  You know what else makes the baby stop screaming?  Vodka.  A LOT of it.  Put that in the bottle and skip the fuzzy cow cover.

Last but not least.  The famous airline pillow.  I think they took this picture in the 80’s.  Actually I am pretty sure when I was like eight, this guy was in the Sky Mall magazine.  This poor bastard got up and thought he was Tommy Bahama when he got dressed.  Kissed the wife and kids goodbye with his oversized pillow tucked under his arm and headed off to the airport.  He gets on the plane and places his fancy pillow on his tray table and takes a little nap.  Here is the deal, if I was sitting next to someone with one of these, I might have to ask to borrow it. This pillow is beast. Case closed.

J for Jogging

J is for jogging.  I despise jogging.  There is nothing fun about jogging and feeling your blubber bounce up and down each time your foot slams into the pavement.  I have always wanted to be a runner.  In my mind when I think of runners, I think of thin, lean, healthy women.  Who wouldn’t want to be that?

I have probably started some sort of jogging program at least 52 times.  No program has worked.  I get about two weeks in, and find a reason to quit.  My go-to reason is: I am not a runner.  Some people are built for it, and others aren’t.  

Two weeks ago, I started yet ANOTHER jogging/running program.  It is called the C25K.  Couch to 5K.  Just to up the anny, I added the pressure of students to the mix.  I was talking to a student about starting this, and she asked if she could do it with me.  The next thing I know, I have persuaded about 17 students to join us.  Crazy, I know.  

After getting permission from the school, and convincing another teacher to get on board, we sent out the permission slips.  I was shocked at how many kids wanted to do this.  I explained that it wasn’t going to be fun.  I told the kids I’m not just a hard ass in the classroom, but I would be equally as tough on them out on the field.  Day one, kids show up with their shoes on ready to go.  We get out there and start the program.  

I have never been so proud in all my life.  These kids are amazing.  Not only were they motivating me, but they were motivating the students at the back of the group.  They ran around them and encouraged them.  Made my heart melt.  If it weren’t for these kids, I wouldn’t be out there three times a week.  They make me want to improve myself.  I have about four students that are on the heavy side, and they are out there working their butts off.  Do you think they are quitting?  Nope.

I can’t complain about wishing I were thinner.  I know I was blessed with an amazing metabolism.  Two weeks after giving birth to a 10.6 pound baby, I was back in my pre-pregnancy jeans and below my pre-pregnancy weight.  I still have a stretched out stomach, but I am still blessed.  There are people that aren’t as lucky as me.  There are kids that aren’t as lucky as me.  With that said, these kids don’t sit and dwell on the fact they are overweight.  They are out there working hard to improve their health. They are excited about it.  They have energy.  These kids make me want to be a better person.  They have more heart than I do. 

We haven’t planned the 5k yet, but we are planning to do one at the end.  They are getting so pumped about the end.  I am going to need to do something special for them because by the end of this, they will have earned it. 

I love my kids.  They give me all the encouragement I need to continue.  They make my heart smile when I see and hear them encourage each other.  They make me proud when the show up every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday ready to run with no excuses lined up.  Their drive and spirit make me run just a little harder and a little longer each day.  Love them.

I for Infatuation

I is for Infatuation.  My students are infatuated with the state of Texas.  I love being from Texas.  I lurve it.  The kids are fascinated by the fact I am a Texan.  They still repeat me every time I let a y’all slip out of my mouth. The word is so foreign to them, that they have to feel it roll off their tongue.  Last week I had an excellent conversation with one of my male students.

Student: Mrs. J, you are from Texas, right?

Me: I sure am.

Student: So you probably own a lot of guns, right?

Me: Not a lot, but sure, we own some guns.

Then yesterday, I have this conversation with another student.

Student: Mrs. J, in Texas they ride horses, right?

Me: Yes.

Student: To work?

Me: No, Goober!  Texans have cars too.

Student: Did you live on a farm when you were there?

Me: No, I lived in the city area.

Student: Were there farms everywhere?  Like the frontier?

Me: What?!? 

Student: I heard once that Texas people hang the Texas flag outside their homes, is that true?

Me: That is true.  Texas pride is like no other. 

Student: I wish I lived in Texas.

Me: You would be lucky to live in Texas. It’s a fabulous place. 

Student: <<long pause>> Mrs. J, are their real cowboys in Texas?  Like ones that wear the boots and everything?

Me: Jason, Texans are just like Connecticut people...just a little more friendly.  They still dress the same as you do, they have the same things as you do.  They aren’t stuck in the past.  They drive cars to work, and they don’t all wear cowboy hats everywhere.  They are normal people.

Student: Oh, so they aren’t like you?

Me: Zip it and start your Critical Thinking questions on page 543.

It just doesn't get better than being a proud Texan. I love and miss my home state!

H for Horrific Habits

H is for Horrific Habits.  The older I get, the more I notice how my personal quirks are a little odd.  Everyday I meet with a team of 7th grade teachers.  There are two LA teachers, two science teachers, two math teachers, one social studies teacher, and a couple of special education teachers.  We all sit briefly and go over important things for about 35 minutes.  We meet at 10:00 in the morning which is about time for a snack.  I usually take a snack with me to the meetings, along with all the other teachers.  I recently brought a bag of M&Ms.  As the meeting is going on, I am enjoying my tasty treat. Those of you that REALLY know me, know I don’t eat the color blue.  So as I am eating, I come across the blue M&Ms, which I set aside.  Now I am almost all the way through my bag and I have a nice little group of blue M&Ms sitting on my note pad.  Of course people notice my weirdness.  They call it weird, but I have to say, I had plenty of volunteers to eat the blue ones that I carefully set aside.  

There are a few other things that make me special.  I believe I have written a blog on most of my quirks, but there is a few more that I want to add.  I love mint chocolate chip ice cream, but I don’t like the chocolate.  I was sitting with the Chief a couple months ago on the couch.  I had the bowl of ice cream balanced on my belly (which was full of a 10 pound toddler).  As I was watching TV, I was eating my ice cream.  Every bite I would hold the bowl up to my mouth and spit out the chocolate chunks after I sucked all the mint ice cream off of it.  After about five minutes, I feel the stare of my husband.  I turn to him and say, “What?”  He responds very calmly with, “Freak.”  This is what my bowl looks like when I am done.

I am not a fan of chocolate, but LOVE me some chocolate covered cherries.  When I was pregnant with the toddler, I couldn’t get enough of these.  I would buy the HUGE boxes of them, and eat a box a night.  Again, not a fan of chocolate, but I LOVE the cherries.  So what do I do?  Eat the bottom off of this tasty treat, then suck the cherry out.  I would put the chocolate back in the hole and move onto the next one.  Here is what ends up in the garbage.

I am also a huge fan of salt.  I put salt on everything.  I bring my own salt shaker to lunch with me everyday.  Another thing the teachers give me a hard time about.  Sometimes my body craves it so much, that I have to poor it in my hand and eat it.  The best salt?  McDonald’s salt.  It melts on my tongue.  It is simply a powder.  It doesn’t get better than that.  I can eat twice as much in one lick because the grains are so fine.  I think if I had to be stranded on an island with one food, I would pick salt.  It may not be a food to you, but to me it’s the best one.  

Enough of my weirdness.  I want to keep you coming back, not scare you off.

Don’t hate me because I am weird.  Tell me how you are weird so I feel a little less like a freak.  K?  Thanks.  

G for Gambling

G is for Gambling.  Vegas is fun.  Vegas is sensational.  Before this last trip, it was my favorite place to go.  I love Vegas because it is a special place.  There is this awesome beautiful area that God created, called the desert.  In the middle of this desert, God dropped a fantastic city called Vegas.  Okay, maybe God didn’t create Vegas, but he let it happen.  God gives man the ability to sin.  Vegas is one big sin.  Errr...one big fun sin.  It is full of crooked people, gambling, hookers, alcohol, and craziness.  It doesn’t get better than that.  I had never gambled until I met the Chief.  

He took me to Vegas about five years ago.  He gave me 20 dollars, and I chose to go to the blackjack table.  It was the only thing I knew how to play.  I walked over and left him standing at the craps table with his money.  Five minutes later, I was back at his side.  

Chief: Did you lose?

Me: Heck no!  I won five dollars!!  Wahoo!

Chief: Um, what are you doing then?

Me: What do you mean?  I am done.  I won.

Chief: Did you spend the whole 20? 

Me: No way!  I won five, so I have 25.

Chief: Aren’t you going to play anymore?

Me: No, why would I? I already won?

Chief: Oh dear God.  

Needless to say, he taught me how to play craps.  I still wasn’t willing to spend the big bucks though.  I watched him play this exciting game.  A couple years later he took me back to Vegas.  He handed me a couple hundred and turned me loose again.  This time I stood by his side and played craps, which is completely fun.  We won that trip, which is one of the reasons I think I walked away from this city calling it my favorite.  

We just went on our third trip to my favorite city.  We went with a group of people, which always makes it more fun.  One evening we went out with another couple, and the wife decided to teach me to play roulette.  

I was immediately hooked.  It is simple, and exciting.  You can bet red/black.  You can bet even/odd.  You can put your money on certain numbers, or you can bet between numbers.  She and I sat and played the first night.  In ten minutes she won 135 and I won 35.  We walked away.  

The next morning I woke up to the Chief aka Rainman.  

Chief: Here is the deal.  If you play the black/red you have to be willing to double your bet until you hit the color.

Me: Hugh?

Chief: I can promise you that you will walk away with at least $20 if you play it my way.  If you go on your theory of three reds in a row can only be followed by a black, then you need to play it my way.

Me: Here we go...

Chief: No, listen.  If you put ten on red, and it hits black you have to be willing to put 20 on it next time.  Then if it still hits black, you have to be willing to put 40 on it, then 80, then 160...

Me: Oh. Dear. God.  Why do you have to go all ape shit on me with the numbers?

Chief: Seriously, you got the balls?  Lets go.

*I may have explained the above wrong.  I tried my best to tell you how that conversation went, but between you and me, when the Rainman comes out of him and numbers start flying, my brain turns off.  Just shake your head like I do, and pretend you understand.  I still don’t understand the logic behind his genius mathematics mind...but it is still sexy as hell.

The next night, the Chief and I decided to sit and play.  We probably sat and enjoyed each other, and the game, for about three hours.  We walked away up again.  By the end of day two, we were up $1,500.  

The last night, we decided to play again.  We sat down and threw our money down and received chips.  We took our time gambling.  It was up and down...like any other game.  He played the numbers, and I played the colors.  So there might have been eight spins before I put a bet on the table.  Once there were three colors in a row, I would bet on the other color.  So here we are, three reds in.  I moved 20 dollars over to the black.  Red hit.  Damn.  

Me: Here we go again, what are the chances of it hitting red five times in a row?

Chief: Well actually...

Me: Never mind Rainman, I didn’t really want a number, I’m just saying...

I moved over $40 to the black.  Red hit again.  Seriously?  FIVE reds in a row?  There is no way it will have six in a row...The Chief apparently agreed.  I moved my entire stack over to black, which was probably $300.  

Chief: Are we doing this?

Me: Yep.

Then he slowly moves over his $300.  I close my eyes and stand up chanting, “Black, black, black.”

Silence.  Then I hear chips sliding.  I open my eyes to see the dealer whisking away all of our chips.  I open my wallet and grab my last $100.  There is NO way it is going to hit seven reds in a row.  NO WAY.  The Chief pulls out his wallet.  He slowly pulls out $700...and drops it on the table.  I look at him and shake my head.  He ignores it.  

The dealer moves his chips over.  Here we go again.  Between the two of us, we now have $800 on the black.  This is it.  I close my eyes.  

Minutes later we are standing at the ATM getting cash out for the cab.  We set aside $500 for this trip to gamble.  We were up over $1,500 and lost it all within five minutes.  That is the name of the game.  I cried.  I didn’t cry over losing the money, I cried over losing.  Okay, maybe it was the money.  In reality, $500 isn’t that big of deal, it was that we were up, and we walked away with nothing.  

The Chief hugged me and said, “Baby, this is what gambling is about.  We set aside the money to spend on entertainment, and we spent it.  It’s no big deal.  We didn’t spend more than what we came to spend.  This is what it’s about.  The good news is, I had a blast gambling with you tonight.”  This is why I love this man.  He didn’t care that we had lost the money we set aside.  To him, it was enjoyment because it was the two of us.  

When we got in the limousine the next morning with all his work people, he yelled out to the group asking who had won money on the trip.  One person raised a hand.

I felt better.  Not really.  I don’t like losing.  I probably won’t go back for a while.  At least not until the next trip...which will probably be soon.  Gawd, I love Vegas.

F for Foreign Exchange Student

F is for Foreign Exchange Student.  Chief and I decided to add to our family.  We are taking on a foreign exchange student next year.  He comes two weeks before the next school year starts.  His name is Dominick.  I am so excited about this, but also a little nervous.  He will be a sophomore, and Little Man will be a freshman.  Dominick is also an only child, so I think he and Little Man will love the fact that they all of a sudden have a brother when they both have lived so long without one.

Let me tell you, this has been quite the process.  It isn’t as easy as just signing up.  They had to interview me on the phone, then they had to come to the house.  They took pictures of every single room in the house, and needed pictures of the family. I felt like I was adopting a child!  Before they came, I cleaned the house from top to bottom making sure my floors were mopped and vacuumed.  This happened to be a busy night for us.  Little Man had wrestling practice and didn’t get home until 7:50.  When I got home with him I sent him up to shower quickly.  She arrived at about 8:00.  She sits with Chief and I at the kitchen table and begins the interview process.  She starts asking about what our typical routine is and the kind of things we do as a family.  I explained to her that for the most part, we sit together every evening and eat together.  I told her Little Man is in bed by 9 on a school night. So we are sitting at the table, answering the questions as Little Man comes down stairs.  He sits at the table and joins in the conversation (really he just listens).  At this point it is about 8:30.  She then starts to question him about how he feels about a foreign exchange student.  He expresses his excitement.  They chat for a while, then she turns and talks to Chief.  Little Man then turns to me and quietly asks if he could have dinner.  Excellent. 8:40 and my kid is asking for dinner, when I just told her we eat dinner together as a family most nights and he is in bed by nine.  I jump up as if an 8:40 dinner was my plan all along.  I frantically search for something to feed him.  At this point I am already screwed so I figure I might as well show my true colors.  I pull out the most nutritious meal I can get my hands on.  Pizza rolls. Parent of the year award.  I am so good at showing my fabulous side.         

After the process of them getting all of our information, and us passing all the tests...we finally got to sit down with a bunch of profiles.  The fun part was picking the kid.  There were so many to choose from!! I am really excited about our choice.  Dominick is from Germany!

E for Easter

E is for Easter. Easter rolled around and I decided it was the perfect day to take another family picture.  When I announced to the Chief that it would be the perfect day to take a picture, I got the typical eye-roll.  I picked out his clothes, told Little Man to put on a purple shirt, and we headed outside to take a family picture. Easy-peasy.

You know what isn’t easy?  Getting a dog to say cheese.  Molly wanted nothing to do with taking a family picture.  She didn’t understand why we were all standing together trying to get her to sit.  When she tried to be obedient, she would be sitting with her back to the camera.  Then I would take three minutes to position her in the right place, Chief would set the timer on the camera and run over to us.  When he started running, she thought it was time to play so she would run towards him instead of sitting still in the spot I had just positioned her in.  Most of the pictures were us laughing hysterically because of Molly.  We moved to the back yard and took a picture by the massive rock that God dumped on our property.  We stuck Little Man on top of the rock with Molly.  As soon as we were all positioned, Molly would shove her face down into Chief’s hair, and of course the camera went off.  Back and forth about six times.  Forty pictures later, Chief looked at me and said, “DONE.”  

I wasn’t about to push it.  I figured out of forty pictures we would have plenty that came out good.  WRONG.  We got two.

This is crazy...same picture, a year apart.  Little Man is now taller than both of us. Scary.  What's more scary?  He will be driving in two years.