Okay…I bribed Chicken with the offer to wear my newest FO (the fingerless mitts are finally done–they’re in the Samurai’s yarn and they look pretty good, in spite of their fraternal status) in order that she would take pictures of our craptacular abode for bells’ meme.
She did it–we had pictures of the the crap-family-castle and the adorable children and the fingerless mitts–all in all, Chicken did us proud.
And then blogger blew chunks, so last night’s post was a total wash. Bummage? Yes. Bummage.
Then there was the Cave Troll’s morning melt down. “Take off your shoes and socks, mama…take them off. Go to bed. Sleep. Sing to me. TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES!!!!” Is your heart broken yet? I’ve been picking up the little bitty pieces of mine out of my sleeve and my hair and from my pockets and trying to put them back together, but so far, there is just not enough heart left for me to do my job. Bummage? Yes. Bummage.
I tried to do my job. I was teaching Emily Dickinson and I was getting EXCITED about it–I always get psyched when I’m teaching something I either haven’t taught or haven’t read, and we have new anthologies and there’s always something in there that I haven’t read or haven’t taught or both…I rediscovered Uncle Walt this year, and Mending Wall is always fun and I love Dickinson already… but the little fuckers wouldn’t shut up. I’m sure that out there is a some mother absolutely appalled that I would call a class room of 16 year olds ‘little fuckers’. That’s because this mother hasn’t faced a classroom full of the little fuckers while trying to hand them the keys to the Goddess benighted universe only to have them spit vitriol in her face. I have. I maintain that my 3rd period is made up of little fuckers. Individually, I like them. As a clot, they’re giving me an aneurysm. Bummage? Yes. Bummage.
A kid from my 5th period brought in El Dorado. I love that movie–I’m a sucker for high quality animation with snarky humor and heart and soul.
I caved. I caved like Carlsbad, I caved like a cardboard condominium, I caved like a Saxon mineshaft, I caved like a hibernating bear. I caved.
El Dorado? It’s fucking brilliant. Bummage? Well…we changed our schedule up for star testing, so the movie will be over 1/2 an hour before the period is up. (No, no…I don’t have the strength to rant about Star Testing now.) So when the movie is over? Then there will be bummage.
But only for 1/2 an hour.
Then there will be hope.
what is star testing? and what about the cave trolls giant bug?
Sorry about the bummage, sounds like loads of fun (not).
Some stuff in the post to you, hopefully it will make an interesting read!
Oh, and the verificatin word? olffjunk!
hmm…the cave troll’s giant bug (i.e. his horrendous attitude) is still worrisome. Something is just not right with the little man and it’s killing me to not know.)
STAR testing is our yearly state mandated test administration. It’s kind of a bummer. I know that in Canada and England, much of your testing is standardized throughout the country. In the U.S., it’s standardized throughout the states–the reason this is a problem is that the state doesn’t cut us any breaks for things like, say, English Language Learning or Special Education students. Our population here is EXTREMELY diverse–ask Lady In Red–she’s teaching the ELL kids. About 15% of our students don’t speak English as a primary language at home–and they get the same test. What really sucks is that NOTHING in their lives–not college, not money, not school placement, NOTHING hinges on the tests. There is NO buy in for them–no reason to take the test seriously. There are NO consequences for falling asleep and bubbling in the sheets. There is no reason for THEM to do a good job, but WE get threatened with cut funding if they don’t.
In classes like mine (1/2 my kids are classic behavior problems) it’s sort of a freaking nightmare.
Of course they’re little fuckers. I was a little fucker when I was in school. My child will be a little fucker when her turn comes. (Though at the moment she’s a poo-head.)
Hugs on the tests. They suck. SUUUUUCK. They should be illegal. As a student AND the parent of a student, I have strong feelings about them. They SUCK. I feel your pain.
a pox on the little fuckers for not listening to a lesson on Emily dickinson.
Sorry for all the bummage (great word, never heard it before).
Sounds like a load of fun or crap, take your pick.
You get to fight with children, I get to fight with adults. Don’t know which is worse.
Blessings on the poor Troll. Maybe it’s a growth spurt? Blessings on sweet Chicken. (and curses on Blogger. I wanted to see those pictures!)
Much as I want to become a wildly successful writer, I want it twice as much for you. School-induced bummage suck so bad! Your local home-schooling families should get together and pay you to give their kids English seminars Then you wouldn’t have to jump through all those beaureaucratic-fucking hoops.
and blessings on poor you.No one should have to bear so much bummage!
Um, can’t say I really blame them for not wanting to listen about Emily. I mean, anything about death that can be sung to the yellow rose of texas leaves me a bit cold. (My am lit prof was illustrating how emily used hymn rhythms for her pieces and amazingly ALthough I could not stop for death can be sung as above.) I hate it when the B doesn’t want to get out of bed. Today I caved, he wore PJs to daycare. Not even a matching set. That makes me a wyffy mom, which is my verifcation word.
I have often said I enjoy being a sub because I like not having to deal with the Administration (they are happy to see me, mostly because it means *they* don’t have to go into the classroom) but the talking while I am trying to teach it driving me nucking futz!! You have my comiseration (BRW today for the first time I can remember, I made a grammatical error on the board, a biggie “Who’s book”. Shesh! Must get more sleep).
Ah, about that stuff in the post. Himself said that he would take it to the post office. Which he hasn’t. So I will be doing it tomorrow. So it will go tomorrow. Sorry for that, but I will be taking it (or more precisely them) to the post office on saturday.
I’ll be excited about getting it! (Okay… a package from out of the country–written for me–could I NOT be revved? Not. Possible. And it’s okay if it’s a little late–I’m finishing Roxie’s book this weekend (that’s a promise to myself–I’m dying to see how it ends!!!) so a little delay is good…spreads things out…
Oh cripes, don’t mention a package. I still have yours here, sitting patiently on my table, waiting to arrive in your castle. Bummage. It will get there. I am slowly catching up; mailed belated bday cards just 10 min ago. Yay me.
As for the little fuckers, I’m with Julie. I was a little, er, big fucker. Big big pain in the ass fucker. And I’m teaching my kid to be a little fucker, too (though I insist on manners to teachers and adults; kids, on the other hand, can blow). So hang in there. Don’t I hear summer calling soon???