The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Sunday, October 15, 2006

I love messing with their minds

For our first quarter curriculum, my ninth grade English students study the short story. I’ve assigned them, as their project, to write a short story themselves. The other day, one of my students asked me, “Are we going to have to do this every quarter?”

Me: “No, we’re only writing short stories because we study short stories first quarter.”
Him: “What are we studying next quarter?”
Me: “The epic.”

A very silly girl

Ngaire likes us to (speed) read her a Sandra Boynton book called Snoozers, which ends with a Very Silly Song. The last line of this song is, “It’s time to say Achoo!”

So, the other morning, Ngaire was reading me this book as I changed her diaper, and when she got to that page, she started babble-singing. I joined in and sang her the song. After I finished, she gave me a huge smile and said, “AH-chee!”

Now the Squid has trained her daddy and me to make utter fools of ourselves in yet another way, as we sing the song at every opportunity, leaving it hanging with, “It’s time to say—” and pausing in hopes that the Squid will chime in, “AH-chee!” She often does.

In case you were wondering

We survived the stomach flu. The Husbandlet had a touch of the nasties, but never actually threw up. He seems to get everything Ngaire and I do, only about three times less badly.

Then I got another kidney infection. Then I got ANOTHER flu, this time the fever/aches/chills/no vomiting variety (the Husbandlet got a headache). I didn’t get a flu shot last Thursday, partially because they wouldn’t let me (I had had a fever within the last 48 hours) and partially because I really don’t want to believe there are any other flus out there for me to get. But there probably are.

Anyway, due to the general malaise and so forth, my grading In box is bursting at the seams and I decided for some crazy reason to give 98 students a test that can’t be ScanTroned. Oy. If you don’t hear from me again, it’s because I got buried in an avalanche of ungraded work, after which my honors students piled on, shrieking, “Have you graded yet? What’s my grade?”

In less overwhelming news, I had a Happy Teacher Moment on Thursday, when some of my poetry students asked if they could take my class again (for no credit) next year. When I told them I won’t be teaching next year, they said, “But we don’t want to take the class if you’re not teaching it!” Awwww. Such moments really do keep you going, though they tend to be few and far between.