Inservice Highlights

One of the best things about teacher inservice is the opportunity to take bathroom breaks ANYTIME of the day. This might sound silly to those of you outside of the education world, but it is BIG news for those of us who live our life dictated by a bell. It is especially significant to someone, like myself, whose classroom is a good thirty minute drive from the teacher's lounge.

When school starts again, my water consumption will need to be staggered in such a way as to guarantee there will be no need to visit the facilities during or between classes. Why not between classes? Well, you see, we have a three minute passing period. That's right, three minutes...hardly enough time to sprint from my classroom, maneuver through middle schoolers who don't understand that congregating in the middle of the hall MIGHT just prevent the flow of traffic, wait in line in the teacher's lounge, take care of business, and high tail it back to my room before the start of class. I have tried this for years, and what typically happens is something like this...

I rush out of my room at the sound of the dismissal bell, taking out a few kids in the process. I shout a quick apology and then move ahead with my mission. The consistent pounding from my hustle through the hallway only serves as a catalyst for an already pressing problem. By the time I arrive in the teacher's lounge to take my place in line, the need is so great I am bent over as if to greet the Consulate General of Japan. Just as I near the front of the line, the bell rings and I must return to class...defeated. I arrive late only to find my students in an uproar and my principal seated and prepared to do a formal evaluation....AWESOME!

For this reason, I plan to drink Rhode Island's share of water until the kids come back. I am going to the bathroom every fifteen minutes...just because I can. I'm not rushing either. The way I see it, I have 176 days of potty stops that need to be reconciled before my school district is forced to pay me overtime.

Mimi

Today marked the end of my first week back to school. It was actually painless and rather productive. Who knew? I really like my team this year. We have a couple of new members, and the team dynamic is working well so far. One of my favorite teaching partners is our Chinese teacher, Mimi. She is our Chinese teacher in that she TEACHES Chinese and in that she is actually FROM China. She speaks GREAT Chinese, and her English is...well...better than my Chinese. She always calls me by my last name, or I should say...by the Chinese version of my last name which is apparently "Lechinja". It cracks me up EVERY TIME.

Mimi and I were roommates last year in Japan. Pause and reflect on that for just a moment, and consider that Mimi's limited English prevents her from understanding sarcasm. She left Japan more convinced than ever that I am absolutely nuts. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "Lechinja, you crazy", I might have just enough to buy a scoop of green tea ice cream...which I DO NOT recommend unless you're buying it in the states where we add enough sugar to make it tolerable.

But, I digress...

For whatever reason, Mimi is one of my biggest fans. I think it's because I'm from Texas. Regardless, I like to spend as much time as possible in her classroom. What can I say? I'm desperate. I live in a state where people don't understand the art of telling you what you want to hear. Yesterday, she said something along the lines of, "Lechinja, I think you lose five to seven pounds since May." I thanked her profusely but then assured her that I keep close tabs on such things and this was absolutely not the case." I went on and on about the gallons of Blue Bell I consumed while in Texas and about my tacos al carbon with queso from Pappasitos. But, she was insistent.

She then went on to say, "I think maybe you need to gain two pounds. I like your face to be round." At this point, I had to explain that I have never had the luxury of strategically placing excess weight on more advantageous body parts. Otherwise, I would have skinny legs and huge boobs. Still, I took Mimi's advice and decided to pick up a couple of extra pounds at the Dairy Queen that afternoon. I have been plagued with an intense desire to partake of the Girl Scout Cookie Thin Mint Blizzard since the first time I saw it on television, and I found this to be the perfect opportunity. I must say, it was good but definitely not worth the hype. I much prefer the Mint Oreo Blizzard. Even still, the Thin Mint Blizzard did the trick. I successfully relocated a couple of extra pounds that were, in fact, never lost. Unfortunately, my thighs are larger and my face is still not round. I guess I'll just have to keep trying.

Mountain Views

Grace and Adelaide. Check out Adelaide's flip flops...I guess any two toes will do!


Burke


The top of Independence Pass


View from the top


View from the top


I spent the last couple of days near Aspen with Beth and her family. We spent a good portion of Friday at Target (always a great time) and the Glenwood Springs mall, now affectionately referred to as "The Hall". Then, we ate dinner at Beau Jo's, which is tied with John's in Greenwich Village for my favorite pizza place in the world. After dinner, we went back to Beth's and put my s'mores maker to good use. Truly, there is nothing more enjoyable than a s'more roasted over a Sterno can. I would say it was a pretty perfect way to spend the last weekend of my summer vacation.

An event worth noting is the fact that I finally braved the "treacherous" drive over Independence Pass. The reason this is significant is because I have a stomach turning, head spinning fear of falling off the side of a mountain. I think this probably stems from my many childhood vacations to Lake City, Colorado where my dad and our family friends would pile us into Jeeps and seek out the most narrow trails on the sides of the highest mountains. It was great fun.

I was reminiscing about our Jeep rides in Lake City as I cautiously steered my Toyota across Independence Pass. I can remember the fear and worry that would overtake me as we climbed so many mountain roads, in spite of my dad's assurance that he would take us safely home. I thought of how I missed the view so often because I was too focused on the unknown that lingered around the bend. Then, it occurred to me that our walk with Christ is much the same. God will take us down roads that might seem dangerous, frightening, and unfamiliar. Too often, we worry and plead with Him to find a safer route. All the while, He patiently assures us that He is in control...that no harm will come to us as long as He is driving. Somewhere along the way, we simply have to learn to trust the driver. Quite often, it is the narrow and treacherous roads that lead us to the most incredible views. If we are paralyzed by fear and our own lack of control, we will miss the thrill of the ride. And, we will miss the reward He has waiting for us at the top of the mountain.

Toe Troubles

Today is my last official day of summer vacation in Colorado Springs. I'm leaving tomorrow for Aspen and will start school Monday. So, I did what any good Texas girl would do at a time like this...I scheduled a massage and a pedicure. I have a GREAT massage therapist, but only in Colorado would a massage be preceded with the warning, "Let me know if I have any hangnails or pokey things on my hands. I rock climb and play guitar."

Okey Dokey.

After my massage, I headed off in search of a good pedicure. I say this because I have yet to discover a nail salon here in the Springs that offers such a thing. Pedicures? Yes. GOOD pedicures? No. It takes only a few minutes of feet watching in Colorado to realize that pretty toes are not high on the priority list.

Today's nail salon candidate was nestled between Great Harvest Bread Company and Hobby Lobby. This scored points right from the start. However, I say "nestled" because the salon was little more than a glorified hallway. There were two ladies in the salon as I entered, the nail tech and her client...in addition to two young boys who spent the remainder of my visit making shooting noises. It was adorable. As I asked if I could have a pedicure, another nail technician emerged from the "back room". She was visibly angered by the fact that I had pulled her away from what appeared to be a British soap opera.

After choosing my color (Cha-Ching Cherry), I took my place in the massage chair and readied myself for what was sure to be another nail disaster. I don't know when my fears were realized. It might have been when blood began dripping down my big toe, or it could have been when she raised my legs above my head in an attempt to rid my heals of anything less than smooth and silky. Not even a full body massage could have prepared me for such an exercise.

Twenty-five minutes after the fun began (I'm not exaggerating), I was sitting with my toes drying under what was perhaps the first nail dryer ever to be invented. After two or three minutes of dry-time, a young Asian man entered the salon carrying balloons and wearing a sombrero. It was then that I began looking for the cameras (the hidden ones that capture the expressions of "foreigners" like myself who are attempting to assimilate into this strange land). I couldn't find them.

The only bright spot in my pedicure fiasco was the fact that it ended quickly enough for me to rush home in time to catch the end of Little House on the Prairie. After all, a visit to Walnut Grove is sure to be the cure-all for any type of disaster.

Pretzel Anyone?

Beth and me at the Broadmoor


In just a few days, I will be heading to Aspen to spend some time with my BFF Beth. I met Beth when I was eleven...the year that Miss Malissa was my official referee camp counselor and the year we all sang Friends are Friends Forever in the back of the dining hall. No one knew all the words, but it was powerful nonetheless. Beth has remained a faithful friend through every imaginable event and circumstance over the past twenty-something years, and I am so very thankful to have her in my life. She is an encourager, a listener, a caring mom to her three kids, and a great wife to Mark. She also has an uncanny ability to throw up without making a sound. I'm not kidding. It's unnatural. She has given me permission to share this story because, quite frankly, it just isn't fair to keep it to ourselves anymore.

It's 1980-something...we're at Astroworld...a mid summer evening in Houston...about 173 degrees outside. Our gang of park-goers consists of our friend Julie, Beth, and myself. I would imagine our hair had probably settled a good five or six inches by this time, since it was late in the day and the humidity was at least 97%. I'm not sure what we were wearing, but I'm guessing "pinch rolling" and multiple pairs of socks might have been involved. As the park is closing, Beth decides she wants a large soft pretzel with mustard. I'm in agreement...no reason not to be. After partaking of the amusement park delicacy, we head for one last roller coaster. The fun ends, and we walk toward the exit to wait for our ride home.

So, here's the visual...Julie, Tiffany, and Beth (in that order...all with minor sunburns and looking very much like middle schoolers) sitting on a curb in the dark with an illuminated Astroworld sign behind us. I am doing my best to trade my squirt gun (no idea where this came from) for a stuffed animal. Finally, an upstanding gentleman agrees. He takes my squirt gun, proceeds to shoot me with it, and then runs out of the park with my gun AND his stuffed animal. At some point during the commotion, Beth taps me on the shoulder and says calmly, "I just threw up." With great compassion (my squirt gun has just been hijacked for crying out loud), I reply, "No you didn't." At which time, she points to the evidence hidden in the shadows of the Astroworld sign.

Let me just say this...the last time my dinner made an upward resurgence was the night before my first 9th grade basketball game. It was so violent that I had to schedule a full body massage the next day. I have literally willed myself out of ever experiencing such hardship again. But Beth? I knew that night at Astroworld that we would be friends for life. Anyone with THAT kind of talent is a rare gem and can be my roller coaster riding buddy ANY time!

Blinded

Mary


Neti Pot


So, I'm watching Little House on the Prairie yesterday. This is not an unusual occurrence. I LOVE Little House on the Prairie, and I'm not afraid to say it. Yesterday, Mary was sure her sight was returning. I wasn't as convinced. After all, I've seen this episode at least 37 times. We all know it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Get real, Mary! Anyhow...During a commercial break, I decided to address a minor cold with a little action from my neti pot.

For those of you who have never heard of a neti pot, allow me to give a quick explanation. The neti pot looks similar to a small teapot and is filled with a saline solution that can be poured through your sinuses. You literally turn your head, pour the solution into one nostril, and allow the saline to come out the other side. It's an attractive process. There is also the option to add a drop or two of aromatherapy to the solution. There are an assortment of products available, but I usually choose to add a bit of eucalyptus to the mix. Yesterday, I accidentally added 6 or 7 drops of eucalyptus to my saline solution instead of the recommended one or two. At this point, I SHOULD HAVE poured it out and started over again. But, I didn't. What can I say? The commercial was over, and Mary was awaiting her test results. There was no time for starting over.

So, I quickly proceeded to begin the miserable process that might have once been a form of Japanese torture. I'm not sure. Now, I'm not saying the unfortunate overdose of eucalyptus made a difference, but it only took a few seconds for me to wonder if I might be joining Adam and Mary at the blind school. I couldn't breathe. I cried as if Simon Birch had killed Ashley Judd all over again. I was sure I had singed every fiber of my being and would never again be the same. I stammered from one side of the kitchen to the other contemplating whether paramedics should be contacted. It was a pain I had never known before, and it didn't end quickly.

At some point during my agonizing fight for life, I decided I needed to finish my mango flavored Mix One drink. I don't know why. I guess I was just thirsty. Mysteriously, it seemed to act as a neutralizer to the prolonged burning sensation. I couldn't finish it fast enough. Within minutes, I was experiencing what Mary could only hope for...I COULD SEE. And, it wasn't my imagination. It was real. I could see the old Edward's house that Laura and Albert had painted for my homecoming. I could see Ma waiting for me at Nellie's. And, I could see Hester Sue and the other blind children. Suddenly, all was right with the world. I had a new lease on life...which was a good thing because it was just about time for another episode of Little House on the Prairie.

Here We Go...

Madison and me at the Astros-Rockies game


Cade


Zachary


Reid and me at Cade's Birthday Party


My mom has been after me for months to start a blog. Quite frankly, I still do just about everything she tells me to do, so here we go. To begin, I am in my early (okay mid) 30's and single. This alone should provide me with a great deal of material in the coming months...years. I am a Texan living in Colorado. For those who don't know, Coloradans DO NOT like Texans. Fortunately for me, there are only about five or six native Coloradans who still live here, and they can be easily identified by the green and white NATIVE bumper sticker on the back of their Subaru's . Everyone else is from California, Texas, or a state beginning with a vowel.

I just returned from a month long trip to Houston, and my hair and I have never been happier to be home. My family is all still in the Houston area. I am CRAZY about my family. I am the oldest of six children and have a niece and three nephews. Two of my sisters are married, two are still in college, and my brother lives at home. We like to do everything together. I'm not sure if you're doing the math here, but "together" includes fourteen people. Let me give you a visual.

Dinner (you pick the restaurant). We enter. All heads turn. Restaurant employees tremble. My brother is usually the first to be noticed. He is almost 19 and is severely handicapped. He is LOUD and enters most rooms with his hands waving as if we have just won the Super Bowl. Of course, this is Houston. We will never win the Super Bowl. So, right away people know something is amiss. Next to be noticed is probably Cade. Cade is every bit of two (or TEEEWWWWW as he likes to say). He is FULL of energy and typically jumps from one place to the next. Then, there's my one year old nephew Zachary. Zachary is a busy body but is usually quite content as long as he is eating. He also has a smile that will make you melt, so this relaxes a few guests. His older sister, Madison is eight. She is as close to perfect as an eight year old can be but never misses a chance to accessorize. Reid is just a few months old, so he only makes a scene when he is hungry. This usually only happens in quieter dining facilities, rarely in Chick-fil-A. The rest of us enter the restaurant, each acting as if we are a guest of this crazy family. Unfortunately, we all bear a freakish resemblance to one another and can't pull this off. I won't go into the events of the entire meal, but your imagination can't do it justice. I've noticed over the past few years that our food tends to come out rather quickly. So does the check. Does this mean anything?

It is also important for you to know that I am a 6th, 7th, and 8th grade Social Studies teacher. I just finished my twelth year in middle school, fifteenth if you include my own experience. This means that I have spent nearly one half of my life in middle school. Is this why I'm still single? Let's just say it is, that's easier.

As for my single life, I've learned to enjoy it...not enough to do it forever (let's not be crazy), but enough to embrace it for now. I'm somewhere between "It's just not worth the free meal." and "You have a job? Great, let's get married." You single people know what I'm talking about.

So, that's a little about me. I have MANY words, so there is much more to follow...