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23 of the Most Bodacious Retro Home Decor Items You Need! All Under $35 24 Jul 2024 12:21 PM (8 months ago)

One of my favorite pastimes is putting a wide array of random items in my Amazon shopping cart knowing full well I will never actually purchase any of them window shopping. 

Feeling nostalgic the other day, I searched for some retro decorations, and as usual, Amazon did not disappoint. Here, in no particular order, are 23 totally gnarly items that will make you yearn for the 80s! 

(This is not a sponsored post. It's just me wasting time while taking a break from filling out job applications. I did not order, nor did I receive any of these products for review. Each item has at least 4 stars and is under $35.)

1.  Retro Record Album Drink Coasters  $11.99

Made from vinyl and crafted to look like real records, these drink coasters are sure to be a conversation starter! The set of 6 coasters are kept neatly in place by the holder that looks just like a vintage record player.

2.  Cassette Tape Earrings  $8.99

Small and lightweight, these cassette tape earrings are sure to turn heads! Made from acrylic, complete with stainless steel French hooks.

3.  Retro Bluetooth Speaker  $16.99

This tiny speaker packs some serious sound. Bluetooth enabled, you can easily connect your device. It's the bombdiggity! Plus, it looks so cute!

4.  Typewriter Pencil Holder  $19.99

When I tell students that I learned how to type on an actual typewriter (and if I made a mistake, I had to use Wite-Out) they can't believe it. This little resin typewriter pen holder is a most triumphant addition to your desk!

5.  Blockbuster ID Badge Holder  $12.95

Who doesn't remember heading to Blockbuster Friday night to grab your weekend movies? This Blockbuster logo lanyard has a plastic holder for your ID, a hook for keys, and a breakaway closure on the strap. I'm pretty sure I need this badge holder for my new ID because it's just so totally awesome!

6.  Record Album Area Rug  $28.89

This 3 foot area rug looks just like an LP (that's long playing vinyl record for the youngsters.) Made from polyester and memory foam with a non-slip rubber backing, this is a schweet accent for any room! 

7.  Nostalgic Drive-In Theater Sign  $11.99

I remember packing our bright orange Pinto station wagon with pillows and blankets and hitting the drive-in theater. Ahhh, the good ole days! This 8x12 metal sign brings the magic of the drive-in into your home. Time to hit the kitchen for a snack!

8.  Vintage Cassette Tape Light switch Plate  $8.99

Give any room in the house a little retro flair with this cassette tape light switch plate. It's available in several colors with different music genres marked on the front like any good mixed tape!

9.  VHS Tape Notebook  $7.99

10.  Library Card Zippered Pouches  $9.99

How to Walk Like a Middle-Schooler. Or a Monkey. Same Thing. 10 May 2024 2:39 PM (11 months ago)

It's testing season here in Florida which means students have to spend many days following a block schedule and staying in the same classroom for hours on end. After the students complete the test, they need to remain seated and silent so as not to disturb anyone else who may still be testing. The only respite from the suffocating boredom is going to the bathroom. I mean, they rarely actually need to use the facilities. I've written about that HERE. But they like to "go to the bathroom" as in leave the classroom on an adventure that has nothing to do with "Number 1 or Number 2."

Yesterday, while administering a test, a student asks to go to the bathroom. Much like seeing someone yawn, this sets off a domino effect wherein a never-ending line of students await their turn for the bathroom. 

I stand by the classroom door waiting for a student’s return before allowing another to “go to the bathroom.” As I watch, the kid comes down the hallway, his arms flailing wildly above his head while he does some sort of walk that makes him look like a marionette being controlled by a drunken monkey. As he gets closer, I see he has the clear plastic wrapper from a fruit roll-up plastered across his face. This inspired me to mentally record the interesting and creative ways middle school students ambulate.

Another student walks up and asks, "Can I get nature's perfect hydration?" Being fluent in middleschool-ese, I understand he wants to go get a drink of water. This kid skips to the water fountain and back.

The next student who returns from the bathroom is making a face that looks like a cross between Mr. Bean and a naked mole rat. Why, you ask? Because he's 12.

The following student to leave the classroom has pulled her arms inside her sweatshirt and is sort of swinging the empty arms of the shirt up and around her head like one of those inflatable noodle things you see outside car dealerships.

Then a student goes to the bathroom and upon her return, she's looking through her hands as if they're binoculars. Sometimes it's hard to find your way back to your classroom; maybe this helps her. 

The next student engages in the most common middle-school walk, slowly scuffing their feet along. I don’t know if it’s the popularity of slides and Crocs, or if earth’s gravity has changed in such a way that it simply takes too much effort to actually lift one’s foot, but kids today cannot seem to pick up their feet when they walk.

This is followed by the famous, Jump and Try to Smack the Exit Sign" maneuver wherein a 4 1/2 foot kid proves that not everyone can dunk like Jordan.

Speaking of Jordan, the next student leaves the bathroom, spins around and does a lay-up with a wad of toilet paper while shouting, "Kobe!"

A while later, a student returns from the bathroom with his eyeglasses on upside down. I shudder to think what kind of harrowing experience he had in the bathroom to return so disheveled.

Next, a kid who has been hitting himself in the ear for unknown reasons (I make a note to check in with him later to make sure he isn't hearing voices or anything) asks if he can go to the bathroom because he thinks his ear is swollen, and I have so many questions. Do you not know that repeatedly boxing your ear may make it swollen? How is draining fluid from your bladder going to make the swelling in your ear go down? I'm genuinely confused.

I let another boy go to the bathroom. On the way out the door, I thought I heard him say, "I need to put water on my head." That can't be what he said, right? He returned 2 minutes later with his head dripping wet. 

"Did you go swimming in the toilet?" I asked dumbfounded.

"No, I put water on my head."

"Why?" I ventured because apparently I like to ask stupid questions.

"Because my head was dry," came his matter-of-fact response.

Okay then.

Finally a girl is doing some sort of dance as she reenters the classroom. Maybe she thinks there's a hidden camera recording her Tik Tok moves.

Maybe next week someone will do parkour off the walls as they sojourn in the mystical bathroom. Or perhaps someone will channel The Bangles and walk like an Egyptian. The possibilities are endless with these kids.

Middle Schoolers are JUST LIKE TODDLERS! 10 May 2024 11:30 AM (11 months ago)

We had school-wide testing yesterday in my district. As a test administrator, it's my job to ensure test security while administering the assessment, and to babysit a bunch of 7th graders when they finish testing until the end of the testing block (which was after 2:00 yesterday.) The first part is a breeze - follow the directions, read the instructions verbatim, constantly monitor the class. The second part - oy vey! (I don't know why I'm suddenly typing in Yiddish. The students melted my brain yesterday.)

After testing was completed, all materials collected, and everything was over and done with, we still had 2 hours left in the testing block. Because other classes may have still been testing, it was important to keep my students quiet during this block. 

This is how that task went.

"Other classes may still be testing so you need to be quiet. You can go on your laptops and do missing work, but you may not get out of your seats or talk. I know it's boring. I get it. It's boring for me too, but until this testing block is over, we have to be considerate of others, and maintain a quiet environment."

But these guys are like toddlers who are incapable of being quiet for more than 5 minutes. Because these tweens are constantly bombarded by stimulation via phones and social media, they are incapable of just sitting still and being bored for any length of time.

A couple boys sitting on opposite sides of the classroom started shadow boxing. Because this is what middle schoolers do. It entails one student making weird boxing/karate/kung fu type moves while the other student ducks and bobs avoiding the "punches" the kid is "throwing" from across the room.

A minute later, a couple other students start playing chopsticks across the room. If my kids hadn't played this when they were younger, I probably would've thought the students were flashing gang symbols.

Another student starts ripping a gum wrapper into a million shreds.

And yet another kid takes the little Jibbetz (shoe charms) off his Crocs and starts spinning them around like tops on the surface of his desk. When he got bored with that, he started playing with the charms like they were dolls.

Another student drew all over his hands and arms, practicing the fine art of tattoo design.

A couple kids (again, sitting on opposite sides of the room) start playing rock, paper, scissors with each other. I told them they were doing it wrong and it was really rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock. They didn't get it. Apparently they don't watch Big Bang Theory.

A couple other kids continuously flipped their water bottles, trying to get them to land right-side-up until I confiscated them. That was met by choruses of, "What? What did I do? I didn't do anything. Why did you take our water bottles?"

"Because I'm mean."

As all these "activities" were going on, I continuously told kids, "Stop talking. Quiet down. Turn around. Stop talking. Shhhhh. Sit back down. Stop talking. Get off YouTube. Stop talking. Put your shoes on. No, you can't move your desks around. Stop talking.

And of course, in between all that fun, there was a constant stream of students asking to go to the bathroom, not because they had to pee, but because they were bored and wanted something to do.

When I got home from work, I was so exhausted, I pondered the wisdom of going to bed at 5:00.

I know I, for one, am looking forward to another testing day tomorrow.

I've Got an Itchy Trigger Finger. No, Really! 4 Dec 2023 1:39 PM (last year)

When you're young, you hurt yourself when you do something like skateboard down a hill, or jump over a parking meter, or fall from a bunkbed. When you're my age, you hurt yourself doing things like walking to your car in a parking lot, looking over your shoulder when backing out, or apparently doing nothing more than writing a grocery list. 

That's what happened to me. I hurt my thumbs (yes, plural - thumbs.) I hurt both my thumbs from doing something as innocuous as writing. Or typing. Or crocheting. Or just because I'm 53 and body parts simply cease working when you get to this age. Who knows? But both my thumbs started hurting. Then they started popping every time I bent them. They would sort of click in and out of place. Crack crack crack crack. Then (this is my favorite part) they stuck in a bent position. I couldn't straighten them by myself. You remember when your parents told you not to make faces at your sister or your face might stick like that? Well, I'm here to tell you - do not make obscene hand gestures because your hands very well might stick like that!

A couple months passed until I couldn't handle the pain anymore so I made an appointment with an orthopedist who specializes in hands. After listening to me describe the problem and listening to looking at my thumbs, he told me, “You have trigger fingers.”

The image of Yosemite Sam sputtering, “I’ve got an itchy trigger finger, ya varmints” flashed through my head.

“That’s an actual thing?” I asked the doctor. “Because, I’ve gotta say, it sounds a little made up. Did you get your degree from Looney Toons University?”

The doctor gave me a blank stare. I’m not sure if he was insulted, or if he was just gauging my mental competency. Either way, he went on to explain the validity of his diagnosis.

“I can give you a shot in both hands that should help alleviate your symptoms. If it works, great! If it doesn’t work, I could give you one more shot. 

"What are the chances it'll work? I mean, hitchhiking is really hard right now. No one knows what I'm doing with my gnarled thumb." I held up my hand to demonstrate.

"There's no way to know if it'll work for you or not. If it still doesn’t work after two shots, you’ll need surgery to correct it. But don’t worry, it’s a simple surgery. We put a numbing agent in your hand." Then, taking my hand, he drew a line with his finger indicating where he’d make an incision. "It’s just a little snip snip and you’re all done."

“Snip snip, huh? Yeah, that’s what they told my ex-husband yet here I am with 6 kids.”

His jaw dropped a little.

“Just kidding. The whole 6 kids thing was on purpose."

blank stare

"I mean, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” I shrugged.

“Okaaay then. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left to either get the injections or to beg another doctor to take over so he didn’t have to deal with me anymore.

Apparently his colleagues beat him at Rock, Paper, Scissors because he was the one who returned with a couple syringes. Shots don't typically bother me, but holy crap they hurt! It felt like I was being injected with a mixture of hot sauce, lava, and evil! My thumbs blew up like Harry Potter's Aunt Marge. 

I'm happy to report that a couple weeks later, my thumbs were all good to go! Now I have no more pain, popping, or locking. Until I do something crazy like stir a pot of spaghetti and dislocate my wrist, that is.

Where Are They Now? 30 Nov 2023 1:14 PM (last year)

People often ask me what my kids are up to these days. I started this blog over 16 years ago. It's hard to believe so much time has passed because it feels like it was just yesterday. Folks always told me, "The days are long, but the years are short." Now I fully understand the meaning of that phrase. 

Here's a brief run-down on what the kids are up to these days.

Austin is married, has a daughter and a son, and is a pastry chef.

Savannah is married, has two girls and a step-son, and is a stay-at-home mom.

Jackson lives with his girlfriend and manages a smoke shop.

Lexington lives with her fiance and is the manager of a pizza place.

Clayton lives with his girlfriend and works at a steel mill.

Brooklyn is a senior in high school, attends college at the same time, and works part-time at Lexi's restaurant.

They all still live in Florida within an hour of me.

But better than that little summary are the interviews I had with the kids. Here they are weighing in on life's important questions. I hope it makes you laugh as much as it does me!

And let me know what questions you'd like them to answer next time. :)

My Weight-Loss Journey (Otherwise Entitled: How I Haven't Lost a Single Pound) 21 Nov 2023 7:05 AM (last year)

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I lay awake, berating myself for eating half a Pepperidge Farm coconut cake. You know, those frozen cakes that serve 8? I hadn't even taken the time to defrost it, and it's a good bet I would've eaten the entire partially-frozen cake in one sitting had my daughter not come home when she did. 

My stomach hurt, I felt like throwing up, and I had heartburn, but greater than all the physical discomfort was the crushing disappointment in myself. Yet despite the utter disgust with myself, there was a little part of my brain that was thinking, I can't wait until I get home from work tomorrow so I can eat the rest of it.

What the hell is wrong with you? the voice in my head spit out. Seriously! You ate so well all day and then completely blew it with half a cake! You've wasted your life being fat. Your whole life! Being fat has held you back from so many things. An extraordinary number of things! You won't date. You won't buy cute clothes. You won't let anyone take a full-length picture of you. You don't want to put on a bathing suit when you go to the beach. You won't do anything that'll draw attention to you. And what do you do about it? Nothing! You do nothing.

Every morning I awake with a clean slate, thinking, Today I will control myself. I'll make good decisions about food. All day. 

And every night I go to bed, a big fat failure.

Although I'll start the day with a healthy mindset: a scrambled egg with mushrooms and spinach for breakfast, some blueberries for a snack, a kale salad with rotisserie chicken, walnuts, feta, apples and balsamic vinaigrette, I'll end the day with 14 cookies, 4 slices of pizza, cheese and crackers, a bag of Hershey's kisses, half a bag of chips, and 2 stale donuts. Then I go to bed feeling sick. Sick to my stomach. Sick of my bingeing behavior. Sick of being fat. Sick of failing.

I get to a point where I try in earnest to get it together, to make healthy choices, to drop excess pounds. And it works. For a while. Maybe a day or two, maybe a week or two, or even a month or two. And then I revert to old habits in the snap of a finger. One doughnut, cookie, muffin, pastry, just one, flips a switch in my brain that starts a frenzy that ends all my hard work. I'm certain I'd be bulimic if didn't so completely detest vomiting.

I know, as people read this, I'll have well-meaning (and probably some self-serving) folks tell me about the program, plan, exercise, diet food, magical miracle whatever that changed their lives. I believe that __insert name of magical diet miracle__ worked for them and I'm truly happy for their success. I feel like pretty much any program can work for a person if they have the right mindset, and I believe that's the key - having the right mindset. I'm quite certain my mind is broken because how else do you explain how an otherwise intelligent person with a fair amount of common sense could spend FORTY years struggling with her weight? How? It's not that I don't know what to do. Eat less, move more. It's not rocket science. Yet, here I am, after literally 40 years of hating the way I look, still fat.

And now it's not just that I'm fat, or rather - obese (I love that word as much as I love the words applicable, moist, panties, and when people who don't know what literally means, use the word literally) but thanks to the magic of menopause, my health is being affected by my weight as well. I've always had excellent cholesterol and low blood pressure, but now those numbers are starting to creep up. And although I've been overweight, I could climb stairs, walk for miles, do whatever. But now I pull have to pull myself up a flight of stairs by the handrail, and when I get to the top, I look like Fred Sanford, grabbing my chest and announcing, "It's the BIG ONE!" My joints are so painful, I can't make it from the parking lot to my office without limping. I take Tylenol like Tic Tacs to deal with the pain. I have no cartilage behind my knee caps so it sounds like corn flakes being crushed under a rolling pin when I bend my knees, as the bones rub against each other. The number one way I could combat this never-ending pain? Lose weight. Simple.

I vacillate between two mindsets: Love yourself as you are, give yourself a break, stop stressing about food or the way you look.

And: What the hell is wrong with you? Show some damn control! If you don't like the way you look, it's real simple - change!

I've lost and gained the same 10 pounds a good 300 times in my life. I'm embarrassed to admit all the things I've tried and failed. But I know I can't be alone and there are others out that who can relate to the never-ending struggle. I've tried sound and sensible programs like Weight Watchers, walking, step aerobics, Omada. I've tried more alternative solutions like hypnosis, Healthy Wage, and Sensa. And I've tried the positively absurd like drinking lemon juice, cayenne pepper, and maple syrup for every meal because Kelly Kapoor did that on The Office. Or this gem from The Devil Wears Prada - I'm on this new diet. Well, I don't eat anything and when I feel like I'm about to faint I eat a cube of cheese. I have literally (and I actually mean literally) tried those. 

And I've tried everything in between - Richard Simmons Deal a Meal, Tae bo, prescription medication that curbed my appetite but made me feel like I was having a heart attack, keto, otc meds, bee pollen, Thrive, cabbage soup, Slimfast, weight loss doctor, Healthy Wage, Biggest Loser contests at work, Atkins, vegan, stationary bike, low-fat, swimming, fiber pills, Jenny Craig, My Fitness Pal, Freedom Formula, Bikram yoga, Overeaters Anonymous, Zumba, Women's Workout World, to name a few.

And here I still am. Letting my weight hold me back from living, yet not altering my habits to affect change.

The Taming of the Frizz 29 Oct 2023 11:06 AM (last year)

I have thick, coarse hair. I always have. When I was a kid, my mom kept my hair short. I looked like a boy - a boy in cute little smocked-top dresses. Maybe she really wanted a boy. I don't know. 

After amassing a portfolio of cringe-worthy pictures from youth, I decided to keep my girls' hair very long when they were little. I loved braiding it and trying out complicated updos on them. 

With age (read: copious amounts of gray hair) and decades of coloring, my hair has gotten even more unruly. Of course, living in Florida, where on any given day, the temperature is roughly the same as the surface of the sun with 100% humidity, doesn't help. 

I've pretty much given up on styling my hair. I don't have the time, patience, or the arm strength to blow it out. I occasionally, rarely, straighten it with a flat iron. It'll look cute until I walk outside, at which point I look like Monica in Barbados.

By the time I make my way through the parking lot from my car to my office, my hair has grown to Hagrid proportions.

By lunch, I'm Roseanne Roseannadanna.

And when I leave for the day, I look like Diana Ross circa 1975.

I have to drive home with my head hanging out the window because my car isn't big enough to contain my mane. It's a struggle.

Most days, I just embrace the frizz. I mean, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? I put some sort of anti-frizz goop in my hair and throw it up in a clip. I could probably open a store called Frizzy Hair Solutions with all the defrizzing/smoothing/curl enhancing products I own. I don't know that it would actually provide "solutions" per say, but it would give customers plenty of products that promise to tame frizz. I've tried expensive salon products, and I've tried Suave products, and everything in between. I can say with confidence that it doesn't matter how much it costs, all products work the same. Or don't work the same. In my experience, no product completely tames the frizz (although I am partial to Suave's anti-frizz smoothing serum as it works pretty well and doesn't cost a ridiculous amount of money.)

So recently I went and got my hair all chopped off. I tend todo these spur-of-the-moment things  and then I cry and ask myself why I'm such an idiot. After a couple years of growing it out, I chop it off again. It's a never-ending cycle of stupidity.

                                                                            AFTER

Language Lessons (Otherwise Entitled: What on Earth are These Teens Saying???) 16 May 2023 4:22 PM (last year)

I've worked in a middle school since 2011, and these kids have taught me as much as I've taught them over the years. They've taught me that when you have new shoes, you have to walk like a crippled penguin so the shoes don't get creases. They've shown me that flipping a water bottle, trying to get it land upright is a legitimate pastime. And every year they teach me So. Many. New. Words. I like to try them out with students to see how many eye rolls I can get. For example, last week a couple kids were complaining about the cafeteria food. 

"Are you kidding? You've got it good! You know what cafeteria was like when I went to school? There was no kitchen in the school! They didn't make food there. It was shipped in. We got a plastic-wrapped plastic container with some sort of cold food in it, and we got a foil-covered foil pack with some mystery hot food in it. It was about as good as you would think a mass-produced school lunch that was sitting there for an unspecified amount of time would be. You guys are lucky. These days school lunches be bussin."

The kids cracked up. I'm not sure if it was because I told them an old-timey story about the good ole days. Or if I used bussin incorrectly. Or if bussin is so last week and no one says that anymore. Or if (most likely) it's because I'm a giant dork.

I'll share my knowledge of teen slang here so you can try out these expressions yourself and gather some of your own eye rolls! You're welcome.

Bussin - really good. 

This is especially used when describing food. But not cafeteria food.

Spill the tea - what's the gossip? 

Last year I had a student who walked in my class and asked, "Do you want to know the tea, Ms. Damalas?"

I think I responded with something like, "Yeah, I like tea. I prefer coffee, but I drink tea sometimes."

That got me an eye roll, and an explanation. And a daily tea update of all the girl drama on campus.

Bet - okay. 

"Brooklyn, do you want to go to the store with me after school?"

"Bet."

"Huh?"

"Bet."

"So do you want to go??"

Slay - okay. See bet.

Real - I agree. 

"These 7th graders are insane this year."

"Real."

User Error - your fault, or that sucks. 

"I forgot to bring my umbrella to work, and I got drenched walking out to the parking lot."

"Sounds like user error, Mom."

The drip - a cool outfit. 

I overheard this from one student to another... "Watch the drip, bruh!" 

I looked up to see if there was anything dripping down. Our school is centered around an open courtyard and every time it rains (daily because it's Florida) there is plenty of dripping from the eves. Brooklyn had to explain this one to me. Drip is clothes, especially a cool outfit. Respect the drip, bruh.

Ice - jewelry. 

There are a few kids at my school who would rival Mr. T with their "ice."

Rizz - charisma. 

I was flipping through some old pictures recently and I pulled out one and told Brooklyn, "I remember this! Jackson was invited to this birthday party when he was in elementary school and he was the only boy invited among all these girls. I showed Brooklyn the photo.

"Jax had all the rizz!"

". . . "

"Rizz? Charisma?" Duh.

"Okay then."

Cap - fake

"I'm really going to miss school over the summer, "I said as sarcastically as possible.

"Cap."

No cap - For real/Are you serious?

When they announced who next year's drum majors would be and she heard her name, Brooklyn responded incredulously, "No cap??"

Off da perc - crazy, insane, bizarre.

There are a couple weeks left in the school year so these middle-schoolers are off da perk, bruh!

Touch grass - reality check. 

When one of the most annoying kids in school asks me, "Ms. Damalas, I'm your favorite student, aren't I?" I have to respond with, "LOL, you need to go outside and touch grass, child."

It's giving - like. 

Our upstairs neighbors are so loud it's giving clog-dancing water buffalo.

Era - phase

Brooklyn's going through her chocolate era. She feels the need to run to Walgreens for chocolate on a nightly basis. I'm going through my frizz-head era.

Sus - suspicious

When a kid who has bad grades says something like, "I have all As," I have to respond with, "That's sus" accompanied with a raised eyebrow.

Stan - crazy fan

My students think I'm such an awesome instructor, they stan me.

Simp - someone who does too much for someone they like.

"Why would you choose to hang with your girlfriend instead of us? You're such a simp!"

These Names for Grandparents are Truly Unique 3 Jan 2023 6:49 AM (2 years ago)

When my oldest son told me that he and his wife were expecting their first child, I could hardly contain my excitement and anticipation. I have the best memories of visiting my grandparents. I know my own kids loved playing with my parents, and sleeping over at their house was a total treat. I couldn't wait to create those amazing memories with my own grandchild. Thoughts of a snuggly little, sweet-smelling baby filled my head. Austin continued, "So what do you think, Grandma?"

Florida, Are You Prepared for a Hurricane? 3 Jan 2023 6:45 AM (2 years ago)

Having lived down here in Florida for the past 10 years, I've come to learn that hurricane preparedness to a Floridian means something entirely different than what the rest of the world thinks. To a Floridian, preparing for a hurricane means stocking up on alcohol, ice to keep your alcohol cold, flashlights to illuminate the area when pouring your alcohol, batteries to put in the flashlights so you can illuminate the area for, again, pouring alcohol, and juiced-up portable cell phone chargers so you can call your friends and invite them over to partake in some 'hurricane party' alcohol.

I haven't quite attained that level of "Floridian-ness, thank God. This is basically all my knowledge about hurricanes:

The One In Which We Survive A Hurricane (And Being Trapped In A Bathroom With Clayton)

Preparing for a Hurricane

Getting Ready for a Hurricane

The REAL Danger of a Hurricane

The One In Which I Dye Everything But My Hair Blue

Now is a great time to take inventory and stock up on your supplies. I mean, you all remember The Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020, right? Stock up on supplies now before Jim Cantore makes an appearance. And it's the perfect time to do it because there's a sales tax holiday on all disaster preparedness supplies (other than alcohol) between Friday, May 28 and Sunday, June 6.

Procrastinators Unite! . . . Tomorrow 28 Nov 2022 2:32 PM (2 years ago)

 I was talking to my sister on the phone today and we were commiserating like we often do. 

"I've had this whole summer to write and I haven't written a word. One time, ONCE, I opened my laptop, pulled up a fresh new Word doc and stared at it. I muttered to myself, 'Just write. Write something. Anything." The cursor continued to blink in the upper left corner. I gave myself a little pep talk. "C'mon, you know once you start writing, the words will come. Just START! Write something.' A half an hour later, I closed my computer and played the Harry Potter game on my phone."

My sister, nodding in agreement, responded, "I was supposed to look for a job this summer. The summer's not over though, right? I keep thinking I should be cleaning my basement and doing productive things because when I start working again, I'll look back and be like 'why did I waste all that time?' Then again, I think - I'll be working soon and I don't want to look back and wonder why I didn't have more fun doing the things I want to do, you know?"

"I understand. It's a conundrum. But I haven't even been having fun or anything. I think I'm becoming agoraphobic. I never leave my apartment. I just sit here, escaping life by watching tv. My cats are starting to think maybe I died."

"Yes, I saw on Facebook that you've finished Netflix."

"And Prime and Peacock too," I added.

"Impressive."

"I figure I'll just win the lottery and then I can quit my job and write. Although, having all the time in the world this month hasn't given me the ability to write so . . ." I trailed off.

"Have you bought a ticket?"

"Uh no. I actually ran to Publix the other night to buy some heavy whipping cream because I got a sudden hankerin' for chocolate mousse. I saw ropes strung out across the store with a sign directing people where to line up in order to buy lottery tickets. Only 2 people were in line because it was like 9:45 at night (which is a perfectly normal time to feel the need to make chocolate mousse.) I thought about getting a ticket because there wasn't a long wait, and because the jackpot was like $830 million dollars. But alas, I never buy tickets so I wasn't sure what the process was and being the tender age of 52, of course I couldn't just ask the guy at Publix. So I paid for the whipping cream and left, all the while thinking I was stupid for not just asking how to buy a stupid ticket and knowing that I would be so pissed off if the winning ticket ended up being sold at that Publix. I mean, how do you go on from something like that?

"Oh my gosh, you're turning into me!" My sister has always been a super introvert. I mean, she's super, in that she's very introverted. I guess she is super at being introverted also. Like she's an expert-level introvert. I, on the other hand, have always been quite extroverted. Until recently with my whole shut-in status, and my fantasizing about being a hermit when I grow up.

"I know!" I said in my best Monica voice. (My sis always gets my Friends references. And literally any TV show or movie quotes. It makes our parents crazy because it's like we speak another language. The language of love! <--- Sorry, I got sidetracked with a Better off Dead quote. As I was saying, we speak the language of random movie quotes. Our mother especially LOVES when we go off with the quotes in the middle of a group chat. She'll be talking about something serious, like telling us about her visit with our grandma who has dementia. She'll mention that our grandma had mashed potatoes for dinner and my sister and I will cut in with:

 "So if I'm going to be a shut-in, I should at least spend my time writing, right?" I asked.

"Yes, you should! You need to move back here to Chicagoland so I can motivate you to write! And you can motivate me to clean my basement!"

"You know that wouldn't work. We'd both be like, 'Meh, why rush it? Let's have margaritas instead!' And we'd spend the day drinking."

"Good point. Well, I'm telling you now to write something. You have to give me a half an hour of work. I want it on my desk by 9:00."

"Okay Ross." (Friends again.)

"I mean it," she insisted.

"A half an hour of work is too loose. I mean I stared at a blank screen for half an hour earlier this week. You need to be more specific. Give me a word count. Or wait! How about if I don't work on my stupid book, but I'll write a blog post. Does that work?"

"Yes! Do it! Don't forget! Put a post-it on your cat or something so you don't forget."

So this is my blog post about wanting to write a blog post because, as I told my sister, "I can't keep saying I'm a writer if I never write anything."

And here is a picture of my post-it, reminding me to write.

How (Not to) Relax at the Beach 28 Nov 2022 2:31 PM (2 years ago)

My friend Cindy and I love the beach and we take day trips to the ocean as often as we can. We both work at middle schools and this year has sucked the life out of us! Of the 10 years that I've worked at OCPS, this is by far the most stressful year I've had, with my year at the ghetto school a close second. I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about my students. I wake up in the morning with a headache. I leave school in the afternoon and drive to the chiropractor who manipulates my spine into place after I've been sitting at my desk, tensed up all day while juggling in-person students with the students learning from home. But knowing that administration appreciates me makes it all worthwhile. 😑

So Cindy and I decided to take a day trip to the Gulf for a little relaxation and Vitamin Sea. Brooklyn was free today so she and I piled our tent and bag of beach things into the back of Cindy's vehicle. I grabbed the handle of the truck when Cindy called out, "Oh, the locks are broken. I'll open the door from the inside." Then she instructed me to reach around and unlock the back door for Brooklyn. "The locks are broken, but the truck drives like a dream!" Cindy asserted. In fact, her husband had checked the oil and filled the tires with air just the day before so the truck would be all set for us to go.

We traditionally stop at Starbucks before we begin our beach journeys. As Cindy placed the order, she debated between a grande and a venti coffee. Needing a good hit of caffeine, she opted for the venti, knowing that we'd be stopping halfway to the beach to find bathrooms anyway because neither Cindy nor I can make it all the way without stopping. I mean, Cindy carried a whole litter of kids at once with her triplets, in addition to one more. And I've given birth 6 times so basically we pee when we sneeze. Ingesting 20 ounces of coffee does not help in the bladder control department. 

About an hour into our trip, as Cindy and I were starting to think - we're going to have to find a bathroom soon, we came to halt on I-4 because well, it's I-4. I-4 is literally always at a standstill no matter what time of day, time of year, amount of construction, or kind of weather. As we slowed to a stop, the truck died. In the middle of I-4. I-4, the highway which has earned the title of The Most Deadly Interstate in the U.S. That I-4. Cindy was able to get it started and inch forward a bit before it died again. Putting on the hazards, she desperately tried to get the engine to start once more. The truck turned over and Cindy looked for an opening to move over to the shoulder. Thankfully, we were at an overpass with an exceptionally wide shoulder so Cindy was able to stop the truck far from the traffic lanes and in the shade of the road overhead.

Cindy called her husband, but he was busy helping a friend and didn't want to leave to come get us. I thought about calling Clayton to come pick us up, but he's never driven on I-4 and I didn't think it would be a good idea to send him on an hour-long trek on the interstate by himself.

Next, Cindy tried calling AAA, but she wasn't getting good reception on her cell phone. I told her to go to the AAA app because that could pinpoint our exact location for the tow truck since we weren't exactly sure where we were. Unfortunately, the app wouldn't load because again, she wasn't getting good service. I pulled up the app on my phone and went through the process of requesting service. As I was about to submit the request, Cindy said, "No wait, if you request service, it'll go against your membership, not mine. You only get so many requests a year." So I closed the app and put my phone on speaker, and while she spoke with the folks at AAA, I pulled up my Waze map to pinpoint our position.

Because of Covid, the tow company can't give us a ride, not that the three of us could've piled into the cab of the tow truck anyway. Cindy thought about calling an Uber, but Ubers don't pick people up along the side of the road. Sooo, we had a tow truck coming for the truck within the next hour or so, but we had no way to get home. And the tow truck wouldn't pick up the broken-down vehicle and leave us just standing there on the side of the road, so we needed to coordinate a ride home for us that would get there at the same time as the tow truck. 

As we were trying to figure out how we were going to get home, Brooklyn decides she can no longer "hold it." Cindy passed an empty Starbucks cup to Brooklyn and told her to climb over the seat into the back of the Expedition to pee in the cup. When she was done, Brooklyn held her grande salted caramel cream cold brew urine with an expression like Now what? We instructed her to dump it out the window while thoughts of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry needed to pee, but they were lost in a parking garage went though my head. "But officer, I could get Uromysitisis poisoning and die. That's why!...Do you think I enjoy living like this?...the shame, the humiliation...You know I have been issued a public urination pass by the city because of my condition. Unfortunately my little brother ran out of the house with it this morning." Cindy and I looked at each other, wondering who would be next, and knowing full well that neither of us would be able to hold it for another hour. And unlike my skinny little 15-year-old daughter, neither of us relished the thought of flipping our um, fluffy 50-year-old frames into the back of the vehicle to pee.

Cindy dialed her best friend because asking someone to get up and drive an hour down I-4 on a Saturday definitely falls into the - something you could only ask of a best friend of 40 years category. I listened to Cindy's end of the conversation. "I have a huge favor to ask! I'm stuck on the side of I-4 with my friend Dawn and her daughter. I need you to come get us please! We were going to the beach. What beach do you think? Anna Maria. It's not that far. But the truck broke down. It think it's a coil."

"But it drives like a dream," I interjected.

"Rick is helping a friend," Cindy continued the conversation. "I may have to kill him. We're on I-4, off to the shoulder. Somewhere in Lakeland. No, before that exit. You can't miss us; we're off to the side under an overpass. Okay, thank you!!!"

All set. A tow truck is coming in an hour, and Cindy's friend and her husband should get here in an hour. Perfect. Or well, not exactly perfect because perfect would be us relaxing on a beach, listening to the waves right now. But at least we were off to the side out of danger, we were in the shade thanks to the road overhead, and we had people coming to get us.

With that all set, we were able to relax a little. However, now that the plans were all made, we didn't have anything to occupy our minds and our thoughts turned back to needing to pee. Cindy grabbed a box of crackers to munch on. "If I eat these, maybe they'll soak up enough urine that I won't have to pee.

Brooklyn and I looked up from our phones, eyebrows raised. "Yes, that's how digestion works," I replied drily.

"I know that's not how digestion works, but I'm trying to fool my brain so I don't wet my pants!"

"Bet you're glad you got the venti now."

"At least we're all wearing bathing suits," Brooklyn piped up from the back seat.

"Right!" I agreed. "And if your friends take too long to get here, instead of finding us a bathroom, they can just pull over in front of someone's yard, and we can grab their garden hose and rinse off."

"Stop making me laugh!" Cindy begged.

"Roll up your window! Oh my God! Brooklyn lock your door! Lock the doors! Oh my God!"

Cindy is completely freaking out which in turn, is freaking us out. I roll up my window and see in the side mirror that a car has pulled up behind us. I'm thinking a good Samaritan is stopping to see if we need any help. Cindy is thinking an axe murderer is stopping to kill us. A man gets out of the car and walks a few feet, stopping at the front of his vehicle. He pours some water on his face, and scrubs it with his hands. Cindy was in full-on panic mode at this point. "I have my foot on the gas! If he comes closer, I'm driving!"

"I don't think he's even coming here. It's okay."

"His belt is undone!" Cindy yelled. "I'm ready to drive!"

The guy walked around and got back into his car without giving us a glance. He started driving, but not out toward the lanes of traffic; he drove up between us and wall. Cindy was ready to floor it while she formulated plans to acquire her concealed carry weapons permit, but the guy continued to drive forward before merging into traffic. He was completed oblivious to us.

Not too long afterwards, the towtruck driver called to let us know he would be there in about 10 minutes. A couple minutes later, Cindy's friends pulled up. We climbed out of the truck and stood there while waiting for the towtruck. 

"It smells like urine out here."

We looked around innocently. "Hmmm, that's weird."

We transferred our belongings to their car and hopped in. After thanking them profusely, we begged them to take the first exit and find a gas station so we could pee. They took the first exit and we drove along. And drove. And drove. But alas, there were no gas stations. No restaurants. No anything. So we wound our way back to the interstate. Signs indicated that there were gas stations, hotels, and restaurants at the next exit so we pulled off there. And drove. And drove. And drove.  There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

"Well, worst case scenario is that we head back to I-4 and go to the next exit," Cindy's friend said.

"No, worst case scenario is that Cindy and I have to pay you to get your car detailed in order to get the urine smell out."

We finally found a Sunoco and pulled in. 

"Um guys, do you see the bars on the windows and the gunshot hole in the glass?" I asked.

"Oh my gosh! I don't know if that's a bullet hole. It looks like someone took a baseball bat to the window."

"Is that really better??"

"No! Keep going! Find another bathroom!"

We found another gas station and ran inside (which really says something about how badly I needed to go because I didn't have on any makeup and I was wearing a bathing suit, and I never go out in public like that!)

We finally all made it home thanks to Cindy's friends. Cindy may be digging a shallow grave in her backyard for her husband who didn't come pick us up, but probably not since he'll be the one to fix the truck. And I learned some lessons for our little adventure.

Don't drink coffee (or really anything) on the way to the beach.

I need to talk Cindy out of obtaining a concealed carry permit.

Wear normal clothes and make-up when going to the beach. Just in case.

How to Get Rid of Forehead Wrinkles 28 Nov 2022 2:09 PM (2 years ago)

I’m thirty-twenty-two years old. That somehow sounds better than “52.” Or maybe that just makes it sound like I’m seriously math impaired. Which I am. But still . . .

Anyway, so I’m thirty-twenty-two and I feel old. I mean, my grandmother is 101 so in comparison, I’m still youngish. But really, yeah, I feel old. Recently I’ve noticed wrinkles on my face. I don’t look like the crypt keeper, or you know, Keith Richards or anything. Yet. But it’s coming. I can tell. And I’m torn between wanting to grow old gracefully, and wanting to fight it tooth and nail.

Anyway, maybe it’s because this summer, I binge-watched the show Botched. Have you seen this? In the show, these L.A. plastic surgeons fix botched nose jobs, boob jobs, and other plastic-surgeries-gone-bad. That should deter me from wanting to fight the aging process, right? But nope. It made me start considering Botox. By “considering,” really I mean that the thought of Botox fleetingly crossed my brain only to be instantly discarded because

1. I can’t afford anything like that!

2  I don’t think I want needles stuck in my face.

3. What if I have a bad reaction and I end up looking like Glimmer in The Hunger Games after being stung by Tracker Jackers.

    Or this guy in Just go with It.

    So, instead of searching for dermatologists, I looked for miracle creams, lotions, and potions that claimed to smooth out wrinkles. I found a product on Amazon. It had a 4.9 rating and the reviews were promising. This product wasn’t a face mask, or a moisturizing cream. No, it was stickers. Yes, you read that correctly. It was a pack of stickers that one applies to one’s face before bed. One sleeps with these stickers affixed to one’s face, and in the morning, one peels them off to reveal fresh, wrinkle-free skin. The reviews claimed, “This product worked amazingly!” “Wow this really does help!” “ . . . immediate results” “. . .  easy to use” “. . .  great results” “. . . lines a lot less noticeable” “My wrinkles have vanished!”

Sign me up! 135 people can’t be wrong. Face stickers for the win!

So I got these stickers, and the first thing I noticed was the packaging. There was an address on the box that listed Ireland. Perhaps the verbiage on the package was translated from Irish? I thought that English was the language most spoken in Ireland, but who knows? Or maybe it was written by illiterate 2^nd graders. Or monkeys. Still, if you’re going to save money by having a monkey write your advertising, you might want to consider splurging on an editor to translate the monkey-ese to English. Just a suggestion.

random capitalization, spelling errors, poor grammar , , ,

Despite the poorly written verbiage on the packaging, I excitedly applied the stickers to my face before bedtime. I held my skin taut and carefully smoothed the sticker across my forehead. I continued with a few more stickers around my mouth. Ta da! I went to sleep with the knowledge I was going to look amazing when I awoke!

A Li'l Update 27 Mar 2022 4:56 AM (3 years ago)

I know I've kinda dropped off the face of the earth. I was getting so annoyed by everyone and everything that I had to step back from all human interaction. (That is, all human interaction except the interaction I need to endure at work since I kind of like getting paid. I mean, if I can't pay my rent, I'll have to live in a van down by the river. And I don't even own a van anymore so essentially, I'd have to live in a compact car down by the river. And that is not appealing.) Anyway, I hit my limit of stupidity and simply couldn't absorb any more so I drifted away from all social media.

So, what's been going on with me, you ask? Let's see . . . 

I learned that the treatment for cancer is worse than the cancer itself. My dad got cancer in his parotid gland. This guy who gets teeth filled without novocaine, and literally never complains of pain of any kind has been in so much pain. Between the throat pain and the gross taste that is omnipresent in his mouth, he hasn't been able to eat for weeks. But he recently finished treatment and is anxiously waiting to feel better, and to start eating again.

I learned that if you complain loudly enough, you can get what you want. Clay, Brooklyn, and I were able to visit my parents in Chicago for Thanksgiving, right before he started chemo and radiation. My dad and I went to pick up my Aunt Vasiliki and my grandmother, Lavonne to bring them out to my parents' house for the day. My grandma was impatient to get out to the car (I mean, I can't blame her! She'd been stuck in her assisted living facility for ages, and she's 100! She's done enough waiting in her life.) Anyway, she was impatient to get out and didn't wait for a nurse to help her, or for me to come inside and walk her out. She ended up falling in the hallway, hitting her head, and getting a giant goose egg. The paramedics took her to the hospital to be checked out since her blood pressure was also sky high. She was MAD! She didn't care about her head or blood pressure; she just wanted to get out and see her family. And she let everyone in the ER know it. "I'm 100 and my granddaughter from Florida is here! You let me out now!"

Anyway, they did let her out and she and I were able to join the rest of the family. I told my grandmother that although I enjoyed spending some one-on-one time with her, the next time I come to visit, we should hang out at home, not in the ER. Or at least pick a hospital with some cute doctors to admire! She agreed.

I learned that I have a new grandson. I haven't seen or talked to Austin, Codi, or Colynn in over a year. I don't even know why. I reread their vitriolic texts to me now and then, looking for some clue as to why they don't have anything to do with me, but to no avail. (They hadn't talked to Savannah and her family in over 2 years, but just recently made amends there which makes me happy.) Anyway, they had another baby right before Savannah had Islah so I have another grandson named Sage. I've never seen him.

I learned that I am way too old and fat to use crutches. At the end of December, I stepped off a curb, heard a pop, and my right knee gave out on me. I was unable to bear weight for a few days.  Apparently, my left knee was feeling jealous of all the fun (you know, ice packs, brace, and steroid shot) that my right knee was receiving so it decided to even things out a bit. While walking out to my car a couple weeks later, my left knee popped and gave out on me. MRIs showed small meniscus tears, considerable bone marrow edema, and little to no cartilage left behind my kneecaps. Walking has become a very painful endeavor. 

I learned, once again, that no matter how hard you try to teach your kids not to act like idiots, sometimes they do anyway. Clay moved out in the middle of the night right before Christmas, and as far as I know, moved in with his girlfriend. He doesn't come around or really talk to anyone anymore.

I learned why people have kids when they're young. Savannah, Ish, and Islah were going to move to Georgia for Ish to accept a job there. Long story short - that didn't happen, thankfully, because I would've missed them way too much. However, they lost their apartment in preparing to move and ended up moving in with me until they're able to find a place. I love being able to see Islah every day. It's amazing how quickly she grows and changes, and I very thankful for this time with her. But lemme tell ya, babies are loud! And crawling babies that like to get into the cat food are exhausting to chase!

I learned all the words to the Spanish versions of every kids' song ever written. Because Ish speaks Spanish, Savannah and Ish speak English and Spanish to Islah so she can grow up being bilingual, which is awesome. To this end, they play songs in Spanish for her, and little gems like Baby Shark run through my head in Spanish on a nonstop loop until I want to stab my eardrums with a sharp stick. Bebé Tiburón do do do-do do . . . 

I'll leave you with a couple pictures and a promise to start writing again because this has GOT to be my last year in education! 

The Mass Exodus of Educators Is Real, And It Isn't Why You Think 9 Mar 2022 9:12 AM (3 years ago)

Remember at the start of Covid, when kids around the country were having to do school from home, and frazzled parents everywhere said, "Dear teachers, we're so sorry we didn't appreciate you! We'll give you whatever you want! Anything at all! Just please take our kids back"? Yeah, I don't really remember that either. It was rather a short-lived phase. As soon as the kids were back in school, parents forgot all about the stress of home-schooling. And honestly, it wasn't even home-schooling. Parents didn't need to curate curriculum, ensuring standards were met. They didn't need to differentiate instruction, or really give any instruction at all. Parents didn't need to collect data, make sure IEPs were met, or administer assessments while trying to ascertain if cheating was going on from afar. They didn't need to monitor kids working from home while also teaching to the students physically in their classrooms, attempting to give adequate attention to both groups, but failing because it's a literally impossible task. Parents had to simply monitor their kids and make sure they were logging into classes and doing work (something they should be doing anyway.)

But here we are. And teachers are leaving the profession in droves. According to the National Education Association survey of its members, "a staggering 55 percent of educators are thinking about leaving the profession earlier than they had planned. This represents a significant increase from 37 percent in August and is true for educators regardless of age or years teaching, driving buses, or serving meals to students."

It's a vicious circle. As more and more educators leave, those who stay are left to pick up the slack. In an already trying year, staff is constantly being forced to combine classes, give up planning periods to cover colleagues who are sick, and take on more responsibility as people leave and aren't replaced. At some point, those who stick around meet their breaking points, and join the ranks of those who have left the field. And so the circle goes round and round.

What does that really look like? On any given day, a school can easily have 12 teachers out, another 2 teachers who left and haven't been replaced yet, and 3 administrators out. And that school will have 4 substitutes show up. So where do the other 10 classes of students go? Schools double and triple up classes and put them in the media center, the cafeteria, the gym. School health assistants, bookkeepers, librarians, and clerks are pulled from their responsibilities to sub in classes. Students lose yet more instructional time when they're already suffering educational deficits, and the teachers sticking it out and staying are held accountable for these losses.

It's not just the teachers who are leaving. It's all support staff, and this includes bus drivers. Like teachers, bus drivers are having to double-up, packing students 3 to a seat while driving combined routes. Students are oftentimes stuck at school for an hour after dismissal before a bus arrives to take them home. My nephews' schools had to pivot back to home-learning because there simply weren't enough bus drivers to take the students to school.

But that's not the main reason people are leaving. 

I have teacher friends with masters degrees who say if it weren't for their spouses, they don't know where they could live because they don't make enough to afford housing on their own. There's something extremely sad about individuals with masters degrees who can't afford the rent by themselves. And every year, they have to fight to get any kind of raise, or to keep the districts from raising their health insurance, or cutting coverage. If we entrust our future generations to teachers and expect them to turn out self-sustaining, educated, productive members of society, we need to give them the tools to do that.

But that's not even the main reason people are leaving.

According to my own unscientific survey of my coworkers, we're leaving because of the ridiculous amount of disruptive and disrespectful behavior from students with absolutely no accountability. Aside from the unruly behavior and disruption, there are the students with zero motivation to learn. I call them the TikTok kids. Their attention span is the length of a Tik Tok video and then they're "bored." So many teachers spend an insane amount of time dealing with behavior issues, and trying to coax kids to just do. their. work. that they don't have time to teach the students who are actually there to learn. It is absolutely draining. I know I personally leave work, mentally exhausted. And there are so very many parents that are just checked out. Those are the good ones. The others condone their child's abominable behavior choices, and try to place the blame on the teacher.

Those not in education might not understand the kind of behavior teachers are dealing with. And of course, this varies from elementary to middle to high school, and from school to school, district to district, and state to state. But I think I can say with absolute certainty that student behavior has gotten much worse over the years, no matter where you are. Here are a couple recent comments I got from teacher friends around the country:

I had a student walk in to class, shout, "'Sup b*tches?!" then proceed to jump on top of a desk and hop from desktop to desktop across the classroom.

I called a student in to my class so I could give her help making up some missing assignments in a class she's failing. She was so mad that I took her out of PE to help her do the work she'd been blowing off. She whipped out her phone, called her mom right then and there in class, and angrily stated, "This lady is making me work instead of going to PE!" From across the room, I could hear her mom's outraged voice through the phone say, "Let me talk to that lady. That's disrespectful!" Wait what? I'm the one being disrespectful here??

I had a student come in already angry.  I asked him to pick his head up and listen to the instructions (after offering all kinds of "cool down" time and options.)  Well, that set him off.  He stood up, flipped my table (others were sitting at it as well), cussed me out including saying that he was going to beat my a**, etc.  The SRO (school resource officer)  had to come and physically restrain him to calm him down and get him out. He was sent back to my class.  Same day.  Same class period. ...with a Dum Dum in his mouth from the SRO. That was almost a career change day for me.

The student behavior coupled with a lack of support from parents and/or administration, all while teachers are stretched thin because they're so short-staffed is what is driving educators away from the profession.

Education was already this big snowball, gathering mass as it rolled along toward a cliff. Covid pushed it over, and now it's on a downhill path, gaining momentum and girth at a staggering rate. But never fear, the powers-that-be are armed and shooting Nerf darts at the mammoth problem cannonballing out of control so I'm sure that will divert its crash course in no time. Either that, or that statistic of 55% of educators thinking of leaving will turn into 55% gone. Poof.

Could You be Unintentionally Harming Your Cats? (If You Have These Items in Your House, You Might Be) 24 May 2021 2:27 PM (3 years ago)

This weekend, I learned something about cats and an item that is absolutely toxic to them. I feel the need to use this platform to warn other pet owners of this potentially fatal situation.

I spent over 7 hours at the emergency animal hospital this Saturday with my kitten, and as you can imagine, this was accompanied by a jaw-dropping bill.

When I woke up Saturday morning, my kitten (who ordinarily wakes me up by licking my nose) was nowhere to be seen. I walked out to the kitchen by myself, no kitten winding herself around my ankles, squeaking for food. I looked into the family where KitKat lay on the couch. She lazily stretched and hopped gracefully down to the floor. I flipped on the kitchen light and saw that her right eye was closed. Scooping her up, I nuzzled her soft little head and she looked up at me with her left eye. Her right eye only opened a crack and didn't look quite right. Her third eyelid was completely covering the part of her eye that was visible through her squinting lids.

At this point, I thought she was just sleepy and would open her eye more as she woke up. I filled her bowl with food; she sniffed it and walked back out to the family room. That's weird, I thought. She must be really tired. Usually she digs in when I feed her in the morning.

As the morning went on, KitKat continued to squint, keeping her right eye mostly closed. On inspection, I didn't see any debris or hair or anything in her eye that could be causing irritation. I was concerned, but as luck would have it, it was Saturday and her vet wasn't open. I called an after-hours emergency vet who told me I should bring her in if I was concerned. They also informed me there was a $95 fee to be seen.

I debated for a little while, asking myself what I would do if it was my kid whose eye was bothering them. I decided to take her in to be safe. After filling out the hospital's paperwork, I was told to wait with KitKat in my car. We waited for about an hour and a half, KitKat happily napping on my lap. I called the hospital to make sure they hadn't forgotten about us and asked if they thought we'd be seen soon. Apparently, 3 back-to-back emergencies had come in so we'd been bumped back a bit, which I understand. After 2 1/2 hours of waiting, I told them I had to leave to take my son to work. 

We went home, where I expected KitKat to run to her water bowl, assuming she was as thirsty as I was. She didn't eat or drink though. I thought she probably just didn't feel great because her eye was bothering her. Until Brooklyn mentioned, "That's the eye she had pollen on."

Oh right, I remembered. A couple days prior, KitKat had gotten into the vase of flowers Lexi had given me for Mother's Day. She had pollen on her face and her paw which I wiped off. 

I googled flowers poisonous to cats. Lo and behold, I learned that lilies especially are highly toxic to cats. Ingesting even a small amount of pollen, leaves, petals, or even the water in which they sit could be fatal. Guess what flowers were in my arrangement. Roses and lilies. That bright yellow powder that had been on her was from the lilies.

Freaking out that it wasn't just KitKat's eye, but that her kidneys were shutting down and that's why she wasn't eating or drinking, or being as playful as usual, I dropped Clay at work and then rushed back to the hospital with Brooklyn holding KitKat.

Long story short, after bloodwork to evaluate the state of KitKat's kidneys and liver, a shot of an anti-nausea medication, a stain of her eyeball to look for scratches, and medication for her eye, she was sent home with us. Thankfully, she didn't ingest any of the lilies when just a little bit of pollen on her face had caused such inflammation and irritation of her eye.

I was in tears, talking to the veterinarian, thinking that my ignorance could have killed my kitten. I didn't know. I didn't know that lilies were that toxic to cats. I had no idea. Since then I've been asking my fellow cat parents if they were aware. Only one of them knew. Only one out of a dozen or so people that I've spoken with this weekend. So I'm using this platform to bring awareness to the fact that there are actually several items that can be harmful, some fatally so, to your pets. Here are a few of the items that are especially harmful to cats.

1. Household Chemicals

Of course, things like bleach, detergent, insect/rodent bait, fertilizers, and such are toxic to anyone. Keep all such items out of kitty's reach (and all cat parents know a kitty's reach is far and wide!)

2. Human and Pet Medicine

Human medications like antidepressants, cold medicines, diet pills, and pain relievers are especially bad. Animal medicine is also harmful in the wrong dose, as is ingesting pet medicine that's for topical use. You should keep all medication out of kitty's reach.

3. Plants

Lilies, sago palms, aloe, mistletoe, azaleas, chrysanthemums, hyacinths, tulips, rhododendron, and marijuana are all toxic to cats. To be safe, don't keep them in your home or your garden if your cat is an outdoor cat.

4. Human food

Although some human food may be okay for kitty, there are many things that are seriously toxic. Some you may know like alcohol, caffeine, and chocolate. But also on this list of highly toxic substances are garlic, onions, chives, grapes, raisins, and the xylitol found in sugarless gum and candy.

This is not an exhaustive list. Talk to your cat's vet for more information.

If you suspect your pet has been poisoned, take samples of vomit, stool, and the suspected poison that was ingested.

Watch for symptoms of possible poisoning.

Know the number of your cat's vet, and the nearest 24-hour emergency facility.

ASPCA Animal Poison Control Center, 888-426-4435

Don't delay. Fast action can save your kitty's life if they've ingested something toxic.

The Things I Learn in Middle School 18 May 2021 2:32 PM (3 years ago)

 

Jello, my Favorite 3 May 2021 5:12 PM (3 years ago)

Most of you know that Lexi has POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome.) Getting her diagnosis took several years, several doctors, several tests, and several misdiagnoses. So when I suspected Brooklyn of possibly having this, I cut straight to the chase and went to the cardiologist who diagnosed Lexi.

Recently Brooklyn has had episodes where her heart races for no apparent reason. She has gone to the school nurse a number of time in the past few weeks with a heart rate over 170. That in and of itself set of alarm bells, but it also got me thinking. When Brooklyn was doing cheer this past fall, she would come home from practice with a headache every day. She said she was totally out of breath and couldn't run around the campus without stopping several times. This girl has always been fit and athletic; she used to not only run around the football field, but she was usually one of the first girls to complete the circuit. Back when this was happening, I didn't think much of it. I told Brooklyn she was just out of shape after lying around, watching Netflix, and eating Nutella for months on end at the start of the pandemic. I mean, who wasn't out of condition this past fall, right? But given her racing heart issues, I began to wonder if there was more to her fatigue and breathlessness when she was in cheer.

And for many months now, Brooklyn will get up out of bed or off the couch, walk a few steps, then sit right back down because she's lightheaded. Again, I didn't think too much of it; I just told her to get up more slowly.

But with all these symptoms together, it was just a little too reminiscent of Lexi so I made an appointment with the pediatric cardiologist. Last week he did an EKG, an echocardiogram, and a chest x-ray. All were normal. Her heart looks fine which didn't surprise me since I think she has some dysautonomia thing going on. He's sending us a heart monitor for her to wear for 24 hours, and he ordered a bunch of bloodwork as well.

So I made an appointment at Quest for early this morning since Brooklyn needed to fast for one of the tests. One of the 24 tests he ordered confused the phlebotomist at Quest. Now, I get that maybe this isn't a common test, and maybe she hadn't encountered this one before. But the doctor had written out the instructions in simple, plain English. The patient was to lie down for 5 minutes, after which time her blood was to be drawn while she was still supine. Then the patient was to stand for 10 minutes, after which time her blood was to be drawn a second time for this particular test. Well, this completely stumped the woman at Quest. She made a phone call to someone who was apparently also clueless. She also said she couldn't draw the fasting test because the doctor had written something about having it taken at 8:00. (The doctor had told us it was fasting so we should go in the morning.) Our appointment was 8:45 and that was too long past 8:00 according to this woman so she wouldn't draw blood for that test either. She just stood there, looking at the papers again and again, dropping them on the floor, looking some more and saying repeatedly that they didn't know what to do. At this point, I just asked her to return all the doctor's orders so we could just go to the hospital to have it done. I was a little aggravated because I was expecting to get to work before school started, and now we'd have to go to the hospital and spend more time waiting.

Brooklyn and I left and went to the nearest hospital, registered and walked around the corner to the outpatient lab where a friendly nurse took us back to a room with a examining table. 

"Go ahead and lie down here. You need to lie here for 5 minutes before I draw your blood."

"Oh thank you! We went to Quest first, but they didn't seem to have a clue how to do this."

"Well, I'm just following the doctor's instructions. It's pretty simple."

After 5 minutes, she drew blood for that test and the other 20+ tests the doctor had ordered. Then she had Brooklyn stand up and walk out near the desk so she could keep an eye on her while we waited for the required 10 minutes before the second draw.

I stood next to Brooklyn, asking her now and then if she felt okay. She always answered, "Yeah, I'm fine! After a few minutes I relaxed because Brooklyn hadn't gotten dizzy and was feeling fine. About 7 minutes into her wait, she suddenly whispered, "I'm not doing so good." I moved closer to her so she could rest her head on me. And then everything happened at once. I could feel her going limp, I wrapped my arms around her. The nurse flew over to us. We gently lowered Brooklyn to the floor. Brooklyn made these loud snoring sounds as we settled her on the ground. I heard an announcement over the PA about a patient down in outpatient testing. Another person brought a cool washcloth that she placed on Brooklyn's head. Someone grabbed her feet and held her legs up to help blood flow back to her brain.

Brooklyn opened her eyes and looked so confused. A dozen people surrounded us by this time. 

"What happened? How did I get here?"

She didn't understand why she was on the floor surrounded by people. Someone gave her some orange juice and the nurse whose lap Brooklyn was in held the straw up to her lips.

They all jumped in SO quickly! It was honestly impressive. Brooklyn was still white as a sheet and her legs were shaking. Someone said that they needed to take her to the ER to check her out. A couple people placed a board under her and lifted her to the stretcher that had appeared next to us. In the ER, they checked her blood sugar, placed a blood pressure cuff and a pulse/oxygen monitor on her. Someone handed me more orange juice and a cup of Jello for her. Brooklyn said, "Jello, my favorite!" 

"Really? Jello is your favorite?"

"Mom, it's from Criminal Minds, remember? Reid likes Jello."

"Okay then."

Brooklyn's face was still pretty pale and she didn't look great, but she was quoting a favorite TV show so I figured she couldn't be that bad.

An ER doctor came in and tried to ascertain why Brooklyn passed out. He suggested low blood sugar from fasting which probably played a part in it. I informed him that she was under the care of a cardiologist who was testing to see if she has POTS or something else causing the elevated heart rate and the lightheadedness. I gave him the name of the cardiologist which apparently made him feel the need to tell us a story about his name. 

"My name is Negron. One time I had a patient and my name was on her hospital bracelet, only it cut off the last 'N' on the name. The woman was black. She was very offended that her bracelet said 'Negro' and accused us of profiling her. I had to explain that it was just my name." 

Okay then. So we hung out there for a while before Brooklyn was moved into a private room where she turned on TV and watched Friends reruns. Soon she was quoting Joey, "Custard good, jam good, meat good!"

Yep, she's definitely feeling more like herself.

The doctor returned and asked if she'd eaten anything.

"They brought her some orange juice and Jello."

"You call that food? That's not food. You need something else. Do you want some chocolate?"

He returned with a small piece of chocolate. "My wife gave me two of these this morning. I already ate one. You can have this one. It'll help."

When he left, Brooklyn said, "Thanks Professor Lupin," quoting Harry Potter. "I mean, I'm not going to pass up chocolate, but I don't think this is considered real food either." I hadn't eaten anything all day either and I had to agree with her.

They had Brooklyn stand up to see if she was dizzy. Her heart rate shot up about 40 beats per minute when she stood, so the nurse had her lie down again. I explained that the racing heart was nothing new, and in fact was the reason we were there to begin with. Finally, they discharged her later that afternoon and we were able to get some actual food.

Not exactly how I was planning on spending my day, but I was really thankful that Quest couldn't figure out how to draw her blood because I don't think they would've had the resources and wherewithal to handle a patient fainting. It was a good thing we had gone to the hospital.

Next up - a tilt table test for her. We'll see how that goes.

I Don't Remember Growing Older; When Did They? 1 May 2021 11:49 AM (3 years ago)

Brooklyn cleaned her room this weekend. I mean, she keeps it clean and organized on a daily basis thanks to her obsessive compulsive tendencies, but she decided she wanted to move her furniture around and clean out her closet. She carried load after load of old toys into the family room and deposited them at my feet. First there were dolls. Then came the doll stroller, followed by a big bag of play food and cooking paraphernalia. This was followed by an assortment of Play-Doh. She brought out bags of clothes she'd outgrown, boots, roller blades, and a magic set complete with collapsible top hat. 

And I've gotta tell ya, I teared up. I legitimately got tears in my eyes. I swear I could hear Topol and Norma Crane singing the haunting strains of Sunrise, Sunset as I watched my15-year-old daughter pile up armfuls of playthings from days gone by. 

"Is this the little girl I carried? Is this the little boy at play? I don't remember growing older. When did they?"

This child, who I swear just yesterday was making PlayDoh waffles for me is currently learning how to drive. An actual car! This baby, who would throw a fit if I didn't put her pink cowboy boots on her little feet the moment she woke up, is now in high school. My youngest child has traded Bubble Guppies for Criminal Minds, her stuffed tiger for a ukulele, The Wiggles for One Direction, and her princess dress-up clothes for a cheer uniform and an obscenely extensive collection of hoodies.

Each milestone my kids hit is somewhat bittersweet. I'm thankful they're growing, learning, and developing as they should. I celebrate their achievements at the same time I mourn those discarded little-kid things. But I think it's making me especially sad with Brooklyn because she's my youngest. For over 26 years I've had kids. And now I feel like I just have small adults. 

When I started blogging in 2007, I wasn't sure I'd survive being a stay-at-home mom to six little mess-makers. People told me back when I had 6 kids, aged 11 and under, "Enjoy this time because the days are long, but the years are short." I took their well-intentioned advice with a nod, while listening to the fighting, whining, and general chaos emanating from my spawn, and thought - You enjoy it, ya psycho! I'm running away from home!"

But I have to admit there's a lot that I miss about those days. I get weepy when I look through photo albums of my babies' first years of life. I remember the smell of their fragile little newborn heads.

I remember the days when they thought I was smart. I reminisce about the times when I'd tuck them into bed, read them a story, and snuggle with them. Nowadays, they tuck me in after I fall asleep on the couch. 

My friends tell me I have a selective memory. They're probably right. I may be looking at the situation through rose-colored glasses. So when I get a little too sentimental about those days of yore, I remind myself that, while I cherish those times, I do NOT want to revisit them.

If you, like me, sometimes find yourself wishing you could turn back time, here are a few reasons to be happy you're out of that stage of life!

*  Kids refusing to eat the nutritious meal you slaved over, opting instead to eat half a cup of ketchup, five marshmallows, and a crayon.

*  Two words – car seats.

*  Chuck E. Cheese 

*  The 2 ½ hours it takes to get ready to go anyplace and the 5 pound diaper bag you have to lug around.

*  What IS that smell in the car??

*  The kid who slumps to the floor in a heap while screaming and crying in the middle of the grocery store because you did something as diabolical as telling him he can’t have the box with the picture of the cute kitty because it’s cat food. And you don’t have a cat.

*  Caillou

*  Trying to figure out if they’re crying because they’re hungry, tired, cold, hot, wet, poopy, or because today is Tuesday.

*  Diaper blow-outs

*  Sharpie drawings on the walls

*  Accidentally washing a disposable diaper and finding that gel all over everything for weeks

*  Finding sippy cups of milk under the couch a week later

*  Attempting to reason with your child about why they cannot run into the street, stick that screwdriver in the electrical outlet, eat grass, play with the dog poop, and on and on and on and on and on . . .

*  Kids waking you up at 5:00 am on a Saturday. (Now you have to wake them up at 5:00 in the evening!)

*  Potty training

*  The whole "I do it myself" phase.

What do you not miss about those little kid years?

How to Make Red Greek Easter Eggs for Tsougrisma 18 Apr 2021 6:58 AM (3 years ago)

3.  Put the onion skins in a large pot along with 3 tablespoons of white vinegar and 8 cups of water.

 

My Yaya - the Centenarian! 15 Apr 2021 3:55 AM (4 years ago)

My Yaya (grandma in Greek) Lavonne, will turn 100 years old this April 28th. I cannot even imagine how much she has seen and experienced in her 100 years on this earth; how dramatically things have changed in that time. I feel like things have changed so much in my life and I've only been around half the amount of time!

It's Official. I'm A Crazy Cat Lady. 30 Mar 2021 3:50 AM (4 years ago)

The other day Savannah posted this to our family group chat with the caption - Mom. 

And Now A Message From The Cat 25 Mar 2021 4:07 PM (4 years ago)

I learned some fun new tricks this week! Brooklyn left her air pod case sitting on the couch the other day. I saw it and thought - Now that looks like a fun cat toy! How nice of Brooklyn to leave that for me to play with! I pounced on the case and flung it off the couch. Then I played soccer with it, batting it around the family room and into the kitchen. I gave it a good smack and it sailed across the kitchen floor and under the refrigerator! Score! I made the winning goal!

I guess Brooklyn didn't know that I'd knocked the case into the refrigerator goal because man, did she look for that case for a loooong time. She looked everywhere! It was hours before she retrieved it! And then she didn't even give it back to me so I could make another goal. That was disappointing.

I learned how to do another cool thing this week too. I mean, honestly, I already knew how to do this, but I mustered up the guts to give it a go this week. I was sitting on Mom's bed, crouched down, ready to pounce when my target walked by. I leapt from my perch as Mom passed the bed and hit her, square on the hip, where I dug in my claws lest I fall. I stuck to her like Velcro! Clinging to her jeans, I just laughed to myself as she muttered something about me being the suction cup Garfield that used to be on her car window in the 80s. I have no idea what that meant, but man, the look of surprise on her face as I stuck to her hip was pretty hilarious if I do say so myself!

I figured out how to get up close and personal with the TV too! I really like this show, and that Phoebe has this awesome song about a cat!

I can't wait to see what I can get into next week!

And Now A Message From the Cat 23 Mar 2021 9:09 AM (4 years ago)

 

I Went Without A Phone For Almost 24 Hours! (And The Twitching Has Almost Completely Stopped Now.) 20 Mar 2021 7:45 AM (4 years ago)

Several days ago my phone stopped working. Out of nowhere, it. just. stopped. I was playing Words With Friends and then, nothing. I employed my great technical knowledge which consists of turning the device off and on again. Only I couldn't even turn it off. I couldn't do anything. I stared at my black screen. The little white apple lit up for a couple minutes. Then it went black. Then the apple lit up. Then it went black. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

This occurred in the evening when no stores were open so there was nothing I could do. That would be stress-inducing enough, but my kids had taken my car and gone to Universal Studios for the day. The kids had been checking in with me throughout the day and I was worried they'd try to get ahold of me before they left to come home. And what if they went out to the car and it wouldn't start? Or what would they do if one of them tripped and broke their ankle? What if they got lost on the way home? Worrisome thoughts swirled around my head as I alternately stared at the blank screen, and attempted to turn the phone off again and again. More than once I thought - I know! I'll call them and let them know I can't text! 

Eventually, I thought to reach out to Savannah via Facebook messenger. She answered and was able to text the littles at Universal and let them know my phone wasn't working, and they could contact her if they needed anything.

I'm embarrassed to admit how many times I grabbed my phone that evening search up something . . . Nope. I picked it up to play a game . . . Nope. I tried to read the headlines, look at Facebook, check my email . . . Nope, nope, nope. I pulled out my phone so I could search the hours of the nearest AT&T store where I got my phone . . . Nope. Search IMDB to find the name of that one actor in the movie I was watching who looked so familiar . . . Nope. Add something to my grocery list . . . Nope. Check the weather for tomorrow . . . Nope.

The next day, feeling a little lost, I drove to the AT&T store and stood outside waiting for it to open. I pulled out my phone to check the time . . . Nope. Finally, a woman opened the door, a look of concern on her face at the undoubtedly rabid customer waiting not-so-patiently to rush through the portal like it was Black Friday and they were giving away iPhones.

In the end, she couldn't do anything to help, but tell me to go to an Apple store. I left AT&T and as I walked to my car, I grabbed my phone so I could call Apple and make an appointment . . . Nope. Okay, no problem, I'll just drive to the closest one and see if I can make an appointment there. I picked up my phone to put the address in my GPS . . . Nope. Defeated, I drove home so I could look up Apple stores and make an appointment on my computer. Unfortunately my wifi wasn't working. Because it goes out multiple times a day, every day. Because Spectrum sucks. And no matter how many times someone comes out to look at it, it still sucks. And unfortunately, I don't have a choice because my apartment complex has a deal with them. But that's another rant.

Frustrated, I woke up Clay and begged him to let me use his phone so I could make an appointment. Then I told him he had to stay up and come with me because I needed to use his phone's GPS in order to get to the only Apple store with appointment availability in central Florida which was 40 minutes away. And we all know I can't drive even 10 minutes away without getting lost.

So we got to the mall, checked in with the security guard monitoring the number of customers in the store, and got in the line of people waiting to get inside. 

As we inched along the socially distanced line, I glanced down and saw this:

"Do I do? Do I do what? What do I do?" I asked Clay. "I don't get it. Is this some sort of Apple thing?"

Clay looked down, then looked back up at me with this face - 😑

Grabbing me by the shoulders, he turned me around.

"Ohhhhh. Well, I feel stupid. I should probably document my stupidity. Because that's what I do." I pulled my phone from my pocket to take a picture . . . Nope. "Clay, will you take a picture of this sign for me?"

In the end, I learned that I am completely dependent on my phone.

Backing up to the cloud is a VERY good thing to do lest your phone has to be restored to factory settings.

Saving your Apple ID and password on your phone isn't very effective; making sure your kids know your Apple ID and password is.

And "Do I Do" means you should stand 6 feet away from others.