Lily's reaction to this song? ("this song" is a link, FYI..)

Answer: Seven

Question: How many pounds did I gain during my week-long stay in Carbatopia? (a.k.a. Grandma's house.)

going to the gym now...

Because when you're on vacation and you watch too much CSI, you start to get paranoid.

I have a problem with my toes. As in, when my toenails grow, they bug me. So I cut them off. Only... I'm really *bad* at cutting them off. So I always end up with mangled bloody messes. As my sister in law, Michelle, says, my pedicures tend to go... wrong.

So, someday, if the CSI people show up at my house and find blood (not going to pontificate on the reasons this might come to pass) you need to tell them that they should make sure that the *amount* of blood isn't attributable to my toes. Because, microscopically speaking, the house is *full* of my toe blood.

Just thought I'd tell y'all. Just in case, you know.

Someone tell me...

If you sleep in until NOON, why do you desperately need a nap by three?

And then when you wake up from said nap at five thirty, why does seven o'clock seem like bedtime?

This holiday stuff is getting ROUGH.

Body Fluids Diaries: Holiday Edition!

1) on the plane. seconds away from landing. baby stands up. pee flows down. drama ensues.

2) at grandma's house. baby pulls down pants. diarrhea flows out. screaming ensues.

3) at the *mall.* diaper comes off. poop rolls out. mcdonald's refuses napkins. swearing ensues.

4) five seconds ago. I try to write this blog entry. husband starts yelling for me. poop is smearing all over. hands. legs. stomach. new christmas clothes.

despair descends.

Shameless Family Cuteness

Morning Conversation

Sam: "Mommy, did you know that I'm white?"

me: "Oh. You are?"

Sam: "Do you know what being white means?"

me: "What does it mean?"

Sam: "It means that when you eat really fast you don't throw up. But if you eat slow, you DO throw up. You also just throw up a lot for no reason."

me: "Really? that's what it means to be white?"

Sam: "I think there's something about skin, too. But mostly it's the throwing up thing."

me: "Oh, okay."

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

They will make me pretty paper bouquets of flowers

and dress like milkmaids.

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

they will create interpretive dances of their favorite book.

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

They will quietly wear togas around campus.

They will wear a shirt all day that says, "Happy Bellybutton Appreciation Day!" and when anyone speaks to them they will ask, "Do you like my hat?" and then insist that they do have one on, even when people say they don't.

They will say, "in accordance with prophecy" after everything they say for 24 hours.

They will calculate the square root of 123,456 using the Babylonian method

I meant to say this in the last post...

but sometimes, when you tell the truth, you might be afraid that people will think you're crazy.

your narrative still has to be honest to be resonant. that's why writing them sometimes sux.

okay, okay. I empathize already. (dangit.)

Every semester when my students are writing their personal narratives, I tell them that the hardest part about narrative is honesty. But it's not the *intent* to tell the truth that's hardest. The very hardest part of narrative is that we have to be honest with *ourselves.*

Maybe without meaning to, we're always telling ourselves little lies--probably so that we feel better. i.e: I'm not really that whiney. Or, when I broke that kid's arm it wasn't my fault. Or, I don't tell lies. Or, there's nothing I'm ashamed of.

But the rub of personal narrative?

no one likes a perfect protagonist.

Seriously.

Polyanna? Only interesting because she (SPOILER) gets paralyzed at the end.

Well, I spent today writing about my *own* life. It's something I haven't done for awhile, bad writing teacher that I am.

And the thing is? That imperfect protagonist thing?

It's really hard. Really, really hard.

So I feel your pain, students. Doesn't make the pain any less necessary, unfortunately, but I still feel it.

Isn't that kind of like asking, "Can you do this math... but without the numbers?"

got a revision request from a peer-reviewed journal for an article I submitted. the article is a statistical analysis of YA book marketing versus sales. they said they liked it. but could I do it without all the graphs?

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

Knit pretty pink scarves that they will then give to charity in SWILUA*'s name.



*SWILUA = "She Who is Like Unto Aphrodite" which is my official, professorial title. (seriously. it's on the syllabus.)

Writing Quote of the Day

"I always feel like with every book, I come out different on the the other side. Of course, that's also how you make sausage, so you can draw your own conclusions."

--Libba Bray

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

Wear their hair in a gazillion braids. For like a week.

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

Recite the Young Women's theme (from memory!). While holding cookies.

Wear a "High School Musical" tattoo on their cheek. For a week.

Wear PJ's to school and tell us all a bedtime story. About the most embarrassing thing they've ever done!


wear all of their clothes backwards and bake us all a cake shaped like a castle.

tell every single person who looks him in the eyes: "I just love you..." [note how he won't look at my camera? I'm hurt.]

drag around a pet shoe all day



more coming soon, I'm sure...

(5 papers+ 6 quizzes + 99 journal entries + endless pleas for mercy) X 56 students =

much.

much.

gloom.

Things Students will do for Paper Extensions

They will draw a chalk circle around the Karl statue and then stand inside it for 1.5 hours without once stepping over the line. They will do this while wearing a sign that says, "No! Never! I'd die first!"

It's that time of the semester again! Yay! Things Students Will Do For Paper Extensions.

They will dress up like Christmas Elves and do other people's dishes.

Students! Alert! Grammar Link!

So, y'all who know me well enough to have experienced one of my oh-so-enlightening grammar rants will know that I am not a prescriptionist. Indeed: prescriptionists annoy me with their snobbiness and refusal to acknowledge that reality--->language--->reality.

Nevertheless.

This was a very useful read. If you'd prefer to not look stupid, that is.

However.

I disagree with their interpretation of the word "hopefully." It's been used the "wrong" way so often that using it the "wrong" way no longer makes you look stupid. In fact, if you're the kind of person who would call other people on this "wrong" use, you're the one who will look stupid. For not friggin acknowledging reality.

End rant.

Here's the link: http://www.copyblogger.com/commonly-misused-words/

My horoscope told me not to clean my house today

It was really, really hard. But somehow I managed.

Bored? Need a hobby this Christmas vacation?

Try this one. (And then send me a picture if you can!)

One of my students is selling the solution to all of my problems

you can bid on it here.

Hard day today

You're lucky because I'm not feeling quite as pontificous about it as I was earlier, so you get to be spared my ramblings.

The thing is... Nothing today was really terribly hard. The day was just... exhausting. Whiney, vomiting, babies. Moody, semi-adolescent lapses into the weepies. Naughty students* with their inappropriate jokes about NRB's** and make out-sessions with drunk 40-year olds. Trying to keep the babies from destroying Steve's office at 8PM when we were trying to make him come home.

It's the end of the semester and I'm overloaded with stuff to do; it's the darkest part of the year; I haven't eaten nearly enough carbs lately. All good excuses for my moodiness, I guess. Doesn't seem to make me less moody, though.

Y'all have anything to snap you out of the crankies? (Carbs, unfortunately, are out, but I'm open to other suggestions!)



*obviously not all my students are naughty. some even make me awesome facebook groups. but the naughty ones will know who they are because I've never made a secret about their naughtiness. So, students, if I've never personally told you that you're naughty, then I probably like you and you shouldn't worry about it.

**you don't want to know what an NRB is. Seriously. Except for maybe Margie Mills. She might find it amusing and should email me. Everyone else should probably just wipe the acronym directly from their brains.

Um... I didn't teach her that. Did you teach her that?

When I picked Lily up from preschool today, she proudly showed me the Christmas art she'd drawn.

"That's mine!" she said, pointing to the painting on the wall that said 'Lily' on it.

"Yes!" I said. "It is!" Then I turned to leave the classroom.

But Lily reached back and pointed again. "And that one is Ethan's."

I looked, sure enough, she was pointing to one that said "Ethan."

But that wasn't all.

"And that one," she said, "is Koralee's."

Um... I thought. That's weird. It's like she can *read* or something. So I pointed to a random piece of art. "Who's is that?"

She frowned. Then, "C.J." Which was, of course, the right name.

"Who's is that?" I pointed again.

"Bethany."

"Who's is that?"

"Forrest."

"Who's is that?"

"Alex."

Oh, my, I thought. You're two, Lily. And that is just... sorta creepy.

This picture is for all my friends in publishing

it's called, "let's all do a chicken (little) dance!"

Things Beauty Queens Say

Miss Provo: "I saw the 'Stepford Wives' yesterday."

Me: "Oh. Did you like it?"

Miss Provo: "Yeah. But it kept reminding me of you and Steve."

Well, that makes it hard to order a Diet Coke

Guess who we got sat next to at Little America...

The Oedipus Chronicles: Evening Conversation

Steve: "Hey, Sam, come cuddle with daddy and we'll watch a cartoon before bed."

Sam: [shrug] "Thanks, Dad, but I don't really want to cuddle right now."

Steve: "You don't? Why not?"

Sam: "Well, I'd rather cuddle with Mommy."

Steve: "Don't you love Daddy, too?"

Sam: "I guess so... Kind of..."

Look what my students made me!

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/group.php?gid=42824590910&ref=mf

You know how when you gain five pounds and you say to yourself, "it's muscle not fat?"

is that EVER true? or is it just one of those lies you tell yourself so you don't get depressed?

Someone tell me...

If Lily is the one rubbing poop into her eyes, why am I the one who wakes up with the infection?!

Artwork of the Day

Sam calls it: "Mommy loves Sam and Sam loves Mommy"

Just overheard...

Steve: "Lily, NO! Don't touch your eyes!!"

Lily: "NO DADDY!"

Steve: "Lily, listen to Daddy the FIRST TIME!"

Lily: "ARRRRR!"

Steve: "LILY!! I SAID DON'T TOUCH YOUR EYES!! WE HAVE TO WASH THE POOP OFF FIRST!"

Lily: "ARRRR! Daddy, you're being MEAN!"

heh.

Evening Conversation: Body Fluids Edition

Lily: "I have poop."

Me: "Oh."

Lily: "I want you to change it."

Me: "Okay."

[we walk toward diaper changing area.]

Lily: "It's ouchy poop."

Me: "The technical term is diarrhea. This diarrhea happens to be green in hue and has a chunky consistency."

Lily: "IT'S OUCHY POOP!" [reaches to scratch bum.]

Me: "Don't touch the poop!!"

Lily: [angry stare]"IT'S OUCHY POOP!" [reaches out with other hand to touch the poop.]

Me: [yelling] "Why can't you just listen to me the FIRST time I tell you something! I'm not just being mean! Now you have FECAL MATTER all over your HANDS!!"

Lily: [starts to cry.][immediately starts rubbing eyes with poopy hands.]

Me: [yelling louder] "DON'T TOUCH YOUR EYES!! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY DON'T TOUCH YOUR EYES!!"

Lily: [angry glare] "NO!" [rubs eyes again.]

Me: [freaking out] "YOU'RE GETTING POOP IN YOUR EYES!!!"

Lily: [angry glare][rubs eyes while looking right at me]

Me: "Lily! OBEY MOMMY! She is not a meanie! She cares about your EYES!"

Lily: [angry glare] "I want Daddy."

Me: [finally get the poopy diaper out of the way so I can run her to the sink where much washing ensues.]

Lily: "You're mean. Daddy's not mean."

Did I go to bed and wake up in 1992?

Most. Annoying. Dream. Ever.

Last night I kept dreaming that my kids were at the side of my bed, poking at me. "Wake up, Mom!" they'd say. "It's morning! You have to wake up!" They would push my eyeballs open and shake me and yell in my ear.

Only...

Then I *would* wake up. It would be the middle of the night. There would be no babies poking, pushing, or talking to me. The room would be dark and I would realize, "Crap. It was a dream. I didn't *have* to wake up."

and so I'd go back to sleep.

and dream it AGAIN.

Creepy or not creepy?

Last night, I asked Sam if he wanted to watch a movie.

Sam: "that's a good idea."

me: "okay" [think to myself, maybe the Polar Express?]

Sam: "how about the Polar Express?"

me: "wow, I was just thinking that."

Sam: "I know."

me: "you know? how do you know?"

Sam: "I heard your voice in my head."

me: "you heard my voice in your head?!"

Sam: "yeah." [shrug.] "I hear your voice in my head all the time."

Don't have an idea for a Christmas present yet? Here's an idea: Buy a book! Save publishing! (okay, it's not quite *that* dramatic/dire)

(or is it?!...)

My microwave is trying to kill me

Every time I open the microwave in my office, it turns on. Like, the door is peacefully closed and the microwave is dark and then just because I decide to *open* the door, it decides to turn on--spewing forth waves of radiation directly at my abdomen.

My boss called to report the problem, but the techs couldn't reproduce it.

Meaning:

The microwave is trying to kill

just

me.

To the student who fell asleep five minutes into class and then continued to sleep...

through class

through the passing period

through people poking at him to see if he was alive and getting nothing back but a slightly louder snore

through 48 minutes of my next class (where we were loudly discussing papers)

before shooting upright, looking confused and rushing away from the classroom full of unfamiliar faces...

don't go out tonight.

you need some rest, honey.