...i need you...

I really like this song a lot.  I'm kind of in love with it.
This video is not awesome, but it's all I've got.

Recently, whenever I'm having a rough day (or moment), I have been turning to this song to get my focus & reliance back on God rather than myself.

It's a time to listen.  Enjoy.

...decapitation...

It's the day after Thanksgiving; which means time to decorate for Christmas.

Out of the boxes come colorful stockings, beautiful (and some cheesy) ornaments, holiday scented candles, snowmen mugs, and more.

And then the nutcracker came out.  I don't love nutcrackers.  I never enjoyed the ballet/movie.  I don't know, I think Macaulay Culkin kind of freaked me out...and it was really boring.  Anyway, a blue nutcracker was taken out of a bin.  I mentioned to Megan and Melissa that I don't love them, but we can totally put it out because it's Megan's, and throughout the evening we had picked up the "there's nothing horrible about Christmas decorations" mantra (which I don't think any of us really believe, by the way).

The nutcracker was placed on a bookshelf.  Ornaments continued to find their perfect places on the tree.  And then it happened.  He fell off the shelf.  Now he is decapitated.  I wasn't too sad.  Nutcrackers are as close to horrible Christmas decorations as possible.  But if he reappears with super-glue, it will be okay.

P.S.  I didn't do it.

...to ease your worries...

I know some of you have been concerned about me due to previous posts about the cold wind coming through my windows.  You'll be happy to know that the windows are now covered.  I got a minor scratch on one leg in the process, but I'm okay, and it was worth it.

Warmer house and lower gas bill, here we come.

...how does this happen...

They really do think I'm their mom.

A couple of weeks ago I was in another teacher's room.  He was grading and recording assignments.  Frustrated, he showed me one without a name on it.  I told him whose it was after a quick glance.  He looked at me incredulously.  I had never seen his class list.  Indeed that was the only student without a grade.

I have a pile of books, notebooks, etc. that students have left in my room.  If I notice them, I stick them in a pile by the pencil sharpener.  No one ever looks to see if their missing items are there.  Today, I was very mom-like...I got sick of the pile, so I found out where all these delinquent students were, and hand-delivered their belongings.
One notebook didn't have a name on it.  It didn't matter.  I knew whose it was.  That's right.  I knew.  As I went downstairs to deliver it, I realized that it was a waste of my time.  Her flight to Texas left at 10 am today.  She wasn't at school.

Yesterday, I was talking with a student in class.  He was a little fired up about something, which is a pretty common occurrence with this young man. (I don't remember what it was about; that's how much this was not a big deal)  I'm not sure if I wasn't responding fast enough to him, or he was disagreeing with me, or what, but his reaction:  MOM!  Yep.  He called me mom.  Loudly.  In front of 26 other students.

Passing period.  Crying girl walks by.  I call her into my room.  I instantly become the sound board for the relationship drama, even though I have unabashedly encouraged the end of this relationship for over a year.

Today is the first home game for the freshmen boy's basketball team.  Twice I had a team member say to me "Miss O'Brien, are you going to my game tonight?" (Note:  my game, not our game, or the team's game, but my game)  Really?  And when I said I wasn't going, both students got upset and offended (mind you, these were two separate occasions).  One required consolation by way of promising I would go to one of his games this season, just not today.

How have I become a mother to hundreds of children to whom I did not give birth?  I certainly did not adopt any of them.  Heck, they've never even been to my house.  They don't even know what town it's in.

...it happened again...

Not more than thirty minutes ago, another student fell out of his desk.

Is someone greasing my students' chairs?

...he just fell out...

So, back in college I had a class called Educational Psychology.  This class had both elementary and secondary ed. majors.  One day, for some unknown reason, we were talking about students falling out of their chairs.

It's mysterious.

How does this happen?  So, maybe with the little elementary students they are too small for the desks.  Possibly their feet don't reach the floor, so it causes them to lose their balance.

I'm not sure.

But regardless, it's funny.  I'm sure if a teacher of a 2nd grader witnesses this, they react with concern for the child's well-being.  Maybe this is why I teach at a high school...

Though this phenomenon is primarily a concern with the young children, it does occasionally happen with teenagers as well.  Now this truly is a mystery.

It's happened in my presence before.  Multiple times.  I always immediately go back to that Ed. Psych class and can't help but laugh.

Yesterday, one of my Facebook friends, and a former Ed. Psych. classmate posted about how a student fell out of his desk in her class.  So naturally I reminisced with her in my comment.

Well, today it happened.

Last hour.  Honors class.  We are discussing study strategies.  All of a sudden a student is on the floor.  It came out of no where.  No warning.  On the floor, trying to pull himself back into his desk.  Several students around him were breaking up with laughter.  I turned around for a second to hide my laughter.  Then I continued on with the notes.  Who knows what I said to my students.  My mind was flying between Ed. Psych., Facebook, and this baffling occurrence.

It was a time to laugh....How could I not?  A 15 year old boy fell out of his chair!

No, I didn't ask if he was okay....I couldn't do it.

Don't worry, he seemed fine.

...toilet paper...

I got t.p.ed today.

...wardrobe...

Sophomore:  Miss O'Brien!  What are you wearing?!?


Me:  confused stare

Sophomore:  You didn't wear that last year!


Every time she passed by me in the hallway today, she laughed.


I'm not sure what to think about this student's view of my wardrobe.

So, I just laughed back.

...Spanish sweater...

Female Student: Miss O'Brien, I like your sweater!


Me:  Thanks, I bought it when I was in Spain.


Male Student:  Why would you go to Spain?


Me:  They have really good sales.


Male Student:  Huh?

...and I thought I was nerdy...

I was a substitute chess coach today for an away meet.

Chessletes really are like none other.

As we were all leaving my classroom to go out to the bus, a student came back.

Miss O'Brien, can I borrow a dictionary for the bus ride?


That's right, a student asked to borrow a dictionary.  For the bus ride.  It wasn't for homework.  It was for entertainment.

And I thought I was nerdy.

They were playing a word game.  Someone starts with a three letter word.  (Example:  bus)  The next person has to say a word that starts with the letter that the previous word ended with, and it must be one letter longer.  (Example:  star)  They continue like this until the words get so long that no one can think of a new one.

The game started on the way to the meet and continued on the way home.

This is what I overheard at one point:
Student 1:  We could go scientific again and use elements.
Student 2:  Oo-oh (imagine a short chortle)...That was fun!
Student 1:  Yeah.  That was fun.


At one point (when no one could think of a seventeen letter word that starts with s) I heard talk of starting over, but using Spanish words this time.
That hooked my attention.  I had to hold back from making my contributions from the front of the bus.

Nevertheless, I did contribute a little to the nerdiness of the night...
When everyone got back on the bus to head home, I had to make sure all of the students were present.  As I read their names, they had to indicate their presence by saying their favorite chess piece instead of the traditional here.  That's right, I made them identify their favorite chess pieces.

Interestingly enough, no one even hesitated with their response.

...how do you know...

I use PowerPoints to teach vocabulary words.  They copy definitions, look at pictures, watch videos, etc. to help the students remember the words.

Yesterday I gave the students a new list.

One of the words is stupefy.

This is the slide for the word:

So I asked the students why the picture of the woman on the phone is an example for stupefy.

One student responds:  Well, it looks like she is reading a newspaper, probably the Chicago Tribune or something, and there must be pretty shocking news.

I follow up with, Right it was so surprising she had to call her mom and tell her all about it...

Interruption from another student in the room (quite loudly):  Wait, how do you know she is talking to her mom?!?!?

Silent look of disbelief...

Really man?  

I'm making it up.

Freshmen.  They are so easily amazed.

...fingernails...

I usually have fairly long nails.  Nothing too extravagant, but pretty long.  Back when I was in elementary school I used to bite my nails:  classic bad habit.  I think it was when I started filing my nails that things turned around.  Recently I was a bridesmaid.  Isn't it one of the bridesmaid's duties to make sure that you have long nails?  So, they've been pretty long lately.

Yesterday a student who, well, let's just say he doesn't have the cleanest reputation, came to see me during a passing period.  He shook my hand, per usual.  Somehow, in this interaction, he noticed my long nails.

Miss O'Brien, let me see your nails!  They are long!  Look at that!  He was taking special note of my pinky nails.

You see, it is fairly common knowledge in a public high school these days what long pinky nails are associated with.  Typically if a student has short nails, with the exception of the pinky nails it's a sign of drug use.  A long pinky nail is ideal for snorting.  Yes, these are the things I learn at my job.

So, this student was implying that my nails looked suspicious.  In response to his little joke, I said, Check it, they are ALL long, not just the pinky nails.  Ok, let me see your nails.  He quickly made sure I saw that they were all short and assured me he was not in that kind of trouble.

Last night I trimmed my nails.  They were interfering with my typing anyway.

Today after school a couple students came into my room to chat.  Again, these are students who do not exactly have good reputations.  One of these students proudly showed me his long pinky nails.  Seriously?

You realize what you are communicating to me right?

I'm not snorting Miss O'Brien!  They just look sweet!

The second student gives him him a look with a clear message:  What are you talking about man?  That's stupid!

I opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of fingernail clippers.  It was the time to clip fingernails.

Here you go.

Seriously?

I passed him the trash can too.

His nails are short now, just like mine.