Mmmm, Chili

Yesterday was the 28th Annual Chili Cookoff at Stone Mountain Park; PW's burps have nothing on these people! It's all about chili, beer, live music, crazy costumes, games, and people watching. My family goes every year, but this year the kids bailed out on us. I guess they are getting to that age when they don't want to hang around with their parents as much. Mike and I had a great time anyway; we met some friends there and sampled it ALL. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The worst chili of the day for me was called Aloha Chili -- it had ham, pineapple, and coconut in it. Sorry, that's not chili to me. Yuck! The best was the Blackened Voodoo Chili, featuring black beans and a great smoky flavor. Wish I could upload a bite for you!

There's always great music at the cookoff, and this year was no exception. The entertainment included four tribute bands, the best of which was Spreadeagle - an Eagles tribute band. These guys were awesome; the whole crowd was singing along and dancing. I stupidly forgot to bring my camera, so I have no pics to show you. (I know Karen; I know!) However, if you click the link up there, you will find hundreds of photos from previous years. If you are ever in Atlanta the last weekend in September, maybe I will see you at Stone Mountain.

Crabby

Crabby. Cranky. Irritable. Bitchy. I'm sure you all noticed before I did, but I'm just now figuring out that I seem to have been in a really bad mood for a while now. Like, weeks, even. It's not PMS -- had that hysterectomy in June, 'member? I find myself complaining and griping a lot, about all kinds of things. Students. Other teachers. My kids. Bills. Reality TV shows. All the stuff around here that needs to be fixed. Etc. I don't want to be this pisttivity-filled negatron, because I don't like people like that. So let's call it a fall resolution; every day, I'm going to try to find something be positive about. I wouldn't dream of boring you by posting them all, but it's just something I am going to make a conscious effort to do. I am going to get started on this plan right now. Positive, positive. Thinking of something positive. Umm...

Think Pink

5 Minutes for Mom is giving away a pink Dyson. Fun contest, if you would like to think pink!

Bugger the Duggars

I received an e-mail invitation to Spend the Night with the Family that Keeps Growing and Growing! Gee, I get to meet baby number 17, little Jennifer. Yayyy! Seriously, am I the only person in America who is not completely enamored with the damn Duggar family? These fuckers piss me off with their 17 children and their Discovery Channel contract. I got a discovery for you -- it's called birth control! Jennifer, you poor kid.

According to one interview I saw, Dad Duggar states that whether or not they have EVEN MORE children is solely Mom's decision, so truly, this is one crazy mom in my not so humble opinion. However, she seems to enjoy all that attention she gets for abusing her uterus, and besides, they get loads of free stuff from their television sponsors. Guess this is justification enough to just keep pushing those little Duggars out, right?

According to the website's "fun facts" about the Duggars, the estimated number of Duggar diapers to date is 90,000. They do about 200 loads of laundry a month. Their grocery bill is "less than $2,000" per month. Who the hell is paying all of these expenses? Dad is a real estate agent, who is considering running for the Senate, and mom has been pregnant for 135 months of her life. Their propaganda claims that they live "debt-free." That's an assload of real estate, folks, and when does he find time to sell houses with all this procreation going on?

Why should these people, in essence, be paid to be a freak show? At one time, people had large families so that their kids could help the family make money or manage a farm, for example, but is that really necessary today? Of course, the Duggar clan did spend 39,000 hours building their own house, so maybe that's why so many kids were needed. Wonder how much home-schooling they managed to do while their construction crew children helped build their house? (Although if they didn't have so many children, they wouldn't need such a gigantic house, but that makes too much sense, I suppose.)

Another consideration; what kind of childhood have these kids had anyway? I feel so sorry for the older kids, having already lived a lifetime of care-taking. As the oldest girl in my own family, I cooked, cleaned, did laundry, changed diapers, bathed, fed, did dishes, etc., which sucked, but at least I didn't have 16 siblings! I think I would run away from home if I were a Duggar.

Yes, I realize that I sound like a snarky bitch. I guess I should just say, "What's it to me," but I can't help but wonder if our tax dollars help subsidize this baby factory. If so, can I specify that my tax contribution to the Duggar family be used to pay for a vasectomy? No? Sigh.

Teetotalling

I am currently trying to lose weight, and excess alcohol can contribute to my weight problem. I enjoy drinking, perhaps too much at times. Though I will drink beer, especially when sports are involved, I prefer wine and liquor. There is nothing like sitting on the back porch at the end of a hard day, watching the sun go down with an ice cold martini in my hand. Stick a couple of olives on a toothpick and call it a party. I like a good margarita with a shot of tequila on the side. I like chilled chardonnay. As much as I like to imbibe, I need to slow down on drinking, especially if it helps me shed some pounds. I haven't had a drink since Saturday night, and it has not bothered me one bit until I thought about it tonight, and suddenly, I feel deprived somehow. I am a control freak in some ways, and it would piss me off to let a substance control me; therefore, I suspect it will be a very long time before I drink again. I have something to prove to myself now.

I think I am going to go have a Virgin Mary and pretend there's alcohol in it. I might even let my husband get lucky. :::snort:::

Gardening & More

The weather was gorgeous this weekend. It's finally starting to cool off a little, so we turned off the AC and opened up all the windows. The fresh air was wonderful. I spent Saturday cooking and cleaning, and went to the fire circle Saturday night. Anyone out there ever go to one of those? It's a Native American tradition that gives you a chance to commune with others, meditate and reflect, and express gratitude for all that is good in your life. I enjoy the people who attend; all are fairly crunchy and intellectual. My good friend Katie went with me, and later, she and I sat up half the night catching up. Sunday, we worked in the garden, turning under the played out vegetables and prepping for a winter garden of turnips, collards, kale and broccoli. What did you all do this weekend?

One more ADD post...

I had to write my ADD student up again today because he got pissy at me, and stormed out of my class. Never came back. Who knows where he went? I didn't have time or inclination to go chase him. I take no pleasure in writing this kid up; I've had a tension headache all afternoon. If indeed he has some kind of disorder that stops him from controlling his temper and other behaviors in the classroom, then he needs to be on an SST or IEP with modifications, medication, and possibly a parapro. Without modifications or something in writing that excludes him from the normal course of discipline, I don't have a lot of choices. My frustration level is intense, and I think that's what I was trying to say when I wrote my other post and put my size 8 foot in my mouth. :X

Humanity

A former student from my school was shot and killed this weekend. I overheard a teacher remark, "Just another weak link in the white trash food chain," with regard to his death. I'm disgusted and horrified, and don't know quite what to do with the anger.

On another awfully sad note, a fellow teacher's son was killed in Iraq. I don't know all of the details yet, just that there was an explosion that killed 6 instantly and he died later from his injuries. She received word of the explosion yesterday, and word of his death this morning. I could say exactly what I said above; I'm disgusted and horrified and don't know quite what to do with the anger.

On the eve of September 11, I just hope everyone realizes that the war we are currently fighting has absolutely nothing to do with the attack on America six years ago.

The real definition of "ADD"

I thought you might all be interested in my take on the ever-so popular diagnosis of "ADD." Now, before anyone throws things at me, yes I do know some people really do have this disorder, as well as other behavior disorders that make life challenging. I know there are some kids who can really be helped by medications and/or behavior modifications. I am talking about "ADD." Notice the quotation marks; they are important.

Most of my students are pretty good this year; after all, it is high school and they should be able to stay in their seats and control themselves somewhat. They don't necessarily do that much more work, but that's a story for another day. I digress. I have this 16-year-old male student, whom I will call Asshole. Asshole has "ADD." Asshole is supposed to be on medication, but he refuses to take his medications because he says, "They make me feel like the walking dead." Asshole's father says, "We can't get him to take his medicine without a fight. We've told him that if he won't take his medicine, he must to control his behavior at school. Asshole does anything but control his behavior. Asshole demonstrates daily that the actual definition of "ADD" is as follows:

"I have 'ADD.' I'm a spoiled rotten brat, badly in need of a spanking or some other form of punishment. However, my parents never punish me or hold me accountable for my rude, crude, hateful behavior because they blame all of my acting out on my disorder. I run a one-man show in your classroom. I must be the center of attention at all times; therefore, I act like a horse's ass. I kick the desk in front of me. I drum on my desk. I throw paper balls. I yell out my opinions on a variety of subjects, including homosexuality, interracial relationships, teachers I hate, and the lameness of your assignments and teaching techniques.

I refuse to start work when you tell me to, because, I insist, your work will only take me 15 minutes when I do start so I'm just going to wait until the end of class. I am smart, but I am lazy and too busy entertaining others and disrupting instruction to care what you think. I wander around the classroom at will. I walk up to the front of the room under the guise of sharpening a pencil, pick up a marker, and start drawing pictures on your white board. I will not sit down when you tell me to. In fact, I won't do anything when you tell me to, but will take my sweet time just to prove that I am the one in control. Once in a while, I want you to feel sorry for me, so I may try to play on your sympathy. Watch out for the waterworks, and the empty threat that maybe I should just drop out of school and start shooting up heroine or snorting coke. These periods are fleeting, because shortly, I will revert to being a jerkoff.

When you warn me, I get defensive. When you reprimand me, I run my smart mouth, yell at you, get even more defensive, blame YOU for my problems, and/or passive-aggressively give you the cold shoulder. When I get really agitated, I use profanity, and then when you write me up, I whine to the administrators that you don't like me and you are picking on me/singling me out. Don't even bother calling my parents because, as I mentioned above, my parents never punish me. They will shake their heads and say, 'We don't know what to do with him, either.' Even though I am an asshole, I will manage to scrape by and pass your class, because I really am smart enough to do any of the work you demand of me. However, when I pass your class, and depart for good, you can kiss my ass because I will tell everyone what a bitch you were."

I think every teacher should be armed with a taser.

Say Cheese

Today was picture day. Picture day at my old school meant that the yearbook staff would come and get my students and walk them down to the gym, while I took advantage of abotu 20 minutes of peace and quiet. All I had to do was give the kids their ticket to give to the photographer. Loved it! Picture day at my new school goes like this. Because all students have English, English teachers are responsible for running picture day. Take attendance. Give each of your students a card that they must fill out with name, my name, my classroom number, and what period they have me. Answer the same questions repeatedly while they chat and fill out their cards. Remind kids to be quiet in the hall and don't forget your cards when we go to the gym. Line up my class, go outside in the 98-degree heat, walk across the hot parking lot to the gym, where there is NO air-conditioning. I repeat...no air-conditioning. Give my key to the bonehead or two who left their cards in the classroom. Pray they come back with my keys. Stand around and melt for 20 minutes, whilst trying to keep your kids in line and in the gym. Go back out in the 98-degree heat and walk back to class. Show a short movie with a note-taking guide, because who wants to try to actually teach a lesson with all this going on? Take attendance again and do a write-up for the kid who somehow disappeared and didn't make it back to class. Repeat four times.

I need a beer.

And PS: I keep getting bitten by something at school. Ants? Fleas? I don't know but it sucks!

Why a Mermaid?

A reader asked me why I associate myself with a mermaid. I was born in Key West. I also lived in Miami, Jacksonville, Antigua, Fall River, MA, and Goose Creek, SC. Most of my life -- that is, until I moved to this kudzu-smothered place -- I lived either right beside the ocean or within a short driving distance. Even when I went to college at Francis Marion University, which is in Florence, SC, it was close enough to ditch school and go to the beach for the day with my friends. When I lived up north, I played at Newport and Cape Cod. I used to work for a health site on the web that was based in San Francisco, and my job required me to fly out about 7-8 times a year. I fell in love with the Bay area, and the California Coast. Point Reyes was a particularly gorgeous beach that my friend KB introduced me to. This past year, I spent part of my vacation in Playa del Carmen, Mexico.

I've splashed in the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Caribbean, and the Gulf of Mexico. The ocean feels like home to me, and you just can't imagine how much I miss it here in the suburbs of Atlanta. When I do have the chance to visit a beach -- any beach -- I can't wait to go stick my feet in the water. My breathing changes. I relax. I heal. A weekend at the beach makes me feel 10 years younger.

Right now, this part of Georgia gives my kids a stability and continuity that I didn't have when I was growing up. They were born here and have lived here their entire lives, and I wouldn't uproot them for the world. However, this mermaid needs to be near the ocean, and yep, one day, when they have finished school, I am going home.

(Thankfully, Mr. Mermaid supports this idea, or we might have grounds for divorce.)

Crime and Punishment

I'm just sitting here pondering the joys of parenthood. Recently, we busted my daughter for stealing her dad's cigarettes. We had suspected (and accused) her of smoking for a while, but she kept denying it. Then one day, when we were unpacking groceries, Mike noticed that a pack was missing from the three that he had bought at the store. A whole pack, not just a few missing from an open pack as in the past. She continued to deny it until I searched her purse and found the opened pack (she had already managed to smoke a few) and a couple of his missing lighters. We grounded her, not so much for smoking, but for the stealing and lying. Just about every kid is going to try smoking at some point, especially if he or she is around other smokers, so while I am not pleased, dishonesty is the bigger issue for me. Neither of my kids seem to have figured out that they will get in LESS trouble if they just tell the damn truth.

Anyhow, she's been grounded for several weeks now, and naturally getting tired of it. The only places she can go are school and church. A few minutes ago, I visited her myspace page, and there was a comment from her friend Joe asking if she was still going to come and visit him. WTF? I clicked on his page, and she commented back, "Yes, I plan to come by after church." I guess I am just too damn naive, but can't believe the kid would use church as a cover! I sent her a text message and told her that she better not even think about using my car for anything but church, or she will lose her driving privileges. She texted back, "Are you reading my myspace?!" That part almost made me laugh, because she always leaves clues around like she wants to get into trouble. I MUST be able to trust her, or else, we live in a police state where I trust nothing that she says and always suspect her of lying.

Raising teenagers makes you old. "Middle-aged" has reared its ugly head.