Ohhhh, That's What It's For!

My friends and family are very supportive of my blog. I have those who are faithful readers and my friend K has even told her friends of my blog. I can only hope this will serve as an springboard to a movie being made about me so I can wear a pearl necklace like Hilary Swank did in Freedom Writers.

Today my friend F was kind enough to tell me about a research paper a colleague was grading. Her e-mail went a little like this.

Jennifer,

Knew you’d LOVE this, so I’m forwarding it. This is from one of S’s students’ research papers on “Gay Rights”. Needless to say, this student opposes gay rights.

-F

As I scrolled down I came across this juicy morsel.

"The penis was made for the vagina and the anus was meant to be a "one way street.""

Never a dull moment around here. Do you really need to ask why I work here?

Classroom Cleanout

As another school year comes to a close, I have been cleaning out drawers, folders, cabinets and such. I came across a note I received at the beginning of the school year. I saved this letter because in my 14 years of teaching it was quite possibly the funniest note I have ever received from a parent.

Every year when we teach the American Revolution we show The Patriot (for its historical accuracy of course). The movie is rated R so permission slips are required. In typical sophomore fashion they forget/lose them. In such an instance I tell the students to have their parent write a note giving them permission to watch the movie. This is note I received on a ripped 1/4 piece of crumpled up notebook paper.

"Billy has my permission to watch a x-rayed movie."

To answer your questions...
1. I don't show porn...unless historically accurate.
2. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Now I Can Breathe

Ahhhhhhhhhh, I have enough money to cover the down payment I put on my credit card for this field trip we are going on this Friday. I have 25 students including the four of us teachers. I will make them pay, don't you worry.

I called the Dave and Busters lady and said I have 25 of the 50 people I thought would come. Waited for her response and she informed me that she would adjust the contract. WHEW! J can order his new laptop with that Economic Stimulus Check. Perhaps Vera Bradley will get a visit from me.

It killed me when one of my students said to me, "Miss I can't go. My parents are having money problems." This made me sad because when I was in high school, I didn't know jack shit about my parents' money issues. I just don't think it's right that a 16 year old had to say those words to me. I felt badly for him. I wanted to say, "Don't worry A, President Bush just gave me $1,800.00 and I can spare $35.00."

But then I would have to do it for everyone and I guarantee there are a few douche bags I wouldn't want to extend that same opportunity. So for now A, "I am sorry you live in a school district where we can't afford to send you on a field trip you worked hard for because the school district 5 minutes away has a much better tax base and an effin' mall to supplement the already overfunded school district. Don't worry though, you are receiving a free and appropriate education, just not one that can take you on a bus for gaming and burgers."

DUH

You may remember from a previous post, D's stomach problems. Well, after a few nights of complaining and pain to the point of D waking up we decided, let's call the doctor. Anyone who knows us, knows Grammie is the go to gal for Dr. appointments. Like the dutiful Grammie she is, when J called to say the Dr. would see D at 4:00, off she went.

About an hour ago I received a phone call from Grammie with a humorous anecdote that occurred at the doctor.

Dr: Is he constipated?

Grammie: No.

Dr: How do you know?

Grammie: My daughter said he wasn't.

Dr: D have you been pooping?

D: Yes.

Dr: How often?

D: Whenever I need to.

Dr: Well....that's always good.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you my son, the genius.

Reagan, A Man with Talent

Since the Johnson posting my friend Kathy commented I should set the kids up for some other presidential fodder...Filmore, Polk, and Bush. I can do one better. We have a reading for the 80's that goes a little something like this.

....Ronald Reagan was a master debater....

Go ahead, say it again. Again, this time I little bit faster.

There you go. Funny right? Try not laughing in front of a classroom full of 16 and 17 year olds when only one of them gets it and you try to ignore the fact that it is friggin' hilarious.

Ignorance is a Bitch

It's been two and a half years since we were able to a get this diagnosis to explain just exactly was going in in D's life. A trip to a psychiatrist confirmed, but she felt this diagnosis was prevalent as well. The years leading up to this point was filled with feelings of poor mothering, embarrassment, loneliness, anger, and sadness. I will never forget telling a co-worker something D had done and him looking at me like I was to blame. All I really wanted was for him to be able to make it through a birthday party or playdate without having a complete meltdown. While I realize many moms have to worse, I wouldn't wish this on anyone, not even my worst enemy (of which I have many).

These past two years have consisted of weekly psychologist visits, weekly pragmatic group therapy and eventually medication. While the road has been long we have made progress. My parents remind me the glass is indeed half full. His school social worker also informs me progress is being made and "things will get better".

Then Friday happened. D had been complaining for the past few days off stomach pain. In typical mom fashion I shrugged it off and told him to go to the bathroom. Isn't that what your mom did with you? This Friday would be different. On and on the whining went and then I said, "Is something bothering you?" D informed me his close friend A's mom told A that D was a bully. I was shocked. This mother had the nerve after we had explained to her that D is on the autism spectrum. Her response, "Oh, I knew he had an aide but I didn't know that was why." Apparently her IQ of a tree frog has not served her well. In addition, a few weeks ago she told her son A, that D was "...too sensitive in a bad way." I have done my best in this blog to keep out names, but I am half tempted to post this bitch's name and address. When she dropped her kid off here about a month ago for a playdate and arrived SIX hours later we said nothing. Now, I will not remain silent. Actually I will, I am making J handle this one.

I have a tendency to get a little emotional when it comes to D. I know I will cry and seem like this weak little piss ant, so I will let J do the talking. While I won't be doing the calling I have plenty to say about what should be said to this mother. Here are a few choice questions I have for her. Feel free to e-mail me anymore suggestions.

So, since you find it necessary to pick on an 8 year old with a disability do you also...
a. spend your weekends in parking lots at the mall and make fun of people in handicapped spots?

b. think people with Alzheimer's don't try hard enough to remember things?

c. think your only child is a spoiled piece of shit who tried to leave our house stealing one of D's toys?

d. feel better about yourself knowing my kid is trying to find ways to make YOU like him?

Seriously though this beeotch better hope I never get a job as a teacher or administrator in a building where her son goes to school, because then, all bets are off! There I've said my piece.

Johnson, Not Just the 36th President

Last year while co-teaching, D and I experienced one of those days when we were like, "...this is why I love teaching here." After something she said in class another student said, "That's what she said." That is a classic. It always makes us laugh, more so when a student says it. Then one of our other students says, "Why is that funny? I don't get." Being dedicated to the educational process we took about 5 minutes to explain to J exactly what it means when someone should or does say, "That's what she said." It was hi-lar-i-ous!

I had one of those moments today during my 5/6th period U.S. History class. We were discussing the Vietnam War (snore).

Me: ...so after reading that paragraph when did the first American attack on Vietnam take place? RAISE YOUR HAND!

B: February 1965

Me: Good. Now, RAISE YOUR HAND and tell me who ordered that attack.

Now as I go to call on J to answer this question

B: as quickly as he can before J answers- I have a big...

J: Johnson

I think I peed a little while I laughed.