Why yes, just for the weekend!

Ok so tomorrow is Good Friday, which for many people means religious services and whatnot. For me, it means THREE DAY WEEKEND!!!! Heck yeah. And yes, I am going to Florida. And yes, just for the weekend. You know why? My kids think waking up and getting on a plane is kind of normal. I'd like to keep it that way. It makes weekend getaways and quick trips totally worth it. Mr. M is a champion traveler. We approach security and he's already taking out his shoes and saying "where are the liquids Mommy!!!". We've got this down, which is good. Because it's still cold here. It's not spring in New England and I have had ENOUGH. Screw this Sh&^. I want to wear flip flops and capris (which are more like full length pants on me because I am so damn short) and stop stuffing my kids into coats and hats every morning at 6 am for the schlep to preschool/daycare. I am going to Florida. There is sun. There is a beach. More importantly? There is a Lali and a Grampy. This means there is a facial for mommy, food from the good Greek restaurant, a drink (or two!) at Martini Madness, and perhaps some silence- in a cabana- on the ocean. Bring it. I am ready. Hell, at this stage of the never ending antibiotic riddled winter I will just take three days without amoxicillin.

The warm sand and sunkissed skin is just an added bonus.

Oy

It's the week of oy in my world. A whole lot of drama in EVERY aspect of my life. I love my job. I love my team. I think my students are pretty fabulous. I mean, really, I have been teaching special ed for a long ass time. I started in 2000. That's 13 years ago. Aside from three years in a public school system, I have worked with some pretty intense populations. I have spent the past seven years working with kids with emotional disabilities- some of them, pretty freakin' severe.

You know what? I wouldn't trade it for the world. Except maybe yesterday at 2:15. It's just been one of those weeks. And then this evening? I realized I left Mr. M's antibiotics at his school. Which is now locked up tight for the weekend. Of course, I FB posted that I was a subpar mother. And within three minutes the director was texting me from ARIZONA that there are painters in the building and I could get in. By then, I had a refill at CVS waiting for me, but really? C'mon! That's dedication. That is the kind of "family" I am thrilled my children are a part of. You can't beat it. There was a teacher whose family encountered a fire overnight, and lost everything. I arrived at 4 pm, about twelve hours after the fire, with donations and what not. Let me tell you, there was SO MUCH STUFF already!!! Being a part of a community is SO important. In good times and bad times, THOSE are the people that have your back. Oh yeah, and they still love my kid when he throws sand (that was yesterday- he's going through an obstinate stage). That's what I want for MY students. I want them to feel like they are a part of a community (even if it's not their local schools- some of my kids are bussed for about an hour to get to us) and know that we have their back. That we CARE about their needs. That we understand that they are going to struggle with a capitol S. That they NEED the accommodations and modifications to learn. And that we genuinely LIKE them. That's why I do what I do. That's why I am excited to go to work every morning. That's why I will do this until the end of time. For all I know, some of the wee babes my kids play with might need a school like mine someday.

I'll be there, ready and willing. I might curse the day and pour a glass of wine at the end- but I'll still be there.

Prius' Make Me Giggle

First of all, I THINK the plural of Prius is Prius' but I might be wrong. It's cool, call grammar foul and stop reading. Really though, when I see a Prius I crack up. Mostly inside, sometimes out loud. It's awkward. I know a lot of really great people that drive them, and my laughing is not related to them. Yes, they are way better for the environment and I think that's admirable. As I fill my huge SUV up with gas, I get it. It is just indicative to me of all the things that were so cutting edge but are now passe. Like vaccines. I mean, c'mon? Who DOESN'T know who Jonas Salk was? Vaccines rock. I love them. It's one of the few topics I will fight with Lee Press-on Nails over. That said, I DO know people who choose to not use them. I still like those people, and even hang out with them, but never discuss the "V" word with them. I'm not stupid. I like having friends. Or cloth diapers...or formula...or carseats... when I was a kid my mom put a playpen in the trunk of the station wagon and let me play in there during long car trips. Formula was a modern miracle of science. Disposable diapers? Cutting edge. Now, everything old is new again- and it just reminds me that trying to be hip or cool is just a waste because the definition changes so quickly. Besides, I am WAY cool. I like disposable diapers, formula, vaccines, and drive a gas guzzler. Oh, and hate recycling. And that's OK, because (most) people don't care, and are my friends because of my funny quips and yummy recipes (or maybe just my ability to buy good wine) but might secretly be really jealous of my cloth "paper" towel & tissue stash. I'm not a complete a$#hole.

I mean really, c'mon. I drive an SUV. I have to save that $ somewhere.

Babies & Snow

Babies rock. My friends have had (as of TODAY!!!) two beautiful little ones in the past two months. A girl and a boy. It makes my uterus twitch. That is, until I am jolted back to reality by the screaming in the family room. Don't get me wrong, I ADORE my sons. They are my reason for getting up in the morning, blah. blah, blah, etc. Really though, I yearn for the "playing together" stage. I am all done with the "I am going to beat up my brother and pretend I don't understand" stage from the three year old. He loves his brother, of course. Right now though, shoving over the new walker is far more entertaining. At the moment I have a three year old on my left and the one year old on my right, both crying. Really? Enough. Which brings me to tomorrow. And the SNOW. ICE. HELL. Yes, this is New England. And yes, I am still going to bitch about the snow. I had a yard last week. With lawn furniture. My kids played outside. It was in a nutshell, amazing. And now, we have another "weather event" upon us. We have a new drinking game here- "which district will fold first?" I am already going to school until the end of June so I am ALL FREAKING SET. I want to have days off when it's warm, sunny, and most importantly, my kids are AT SCHOOL. I am not a complete idiot. If the roads are bad, I am not driving them to school/daycare. It's not worth it. Again, I love my kids. And my sanity. Right now however they are mutually exclusive. We are DONE with winter, DONE with antibiotics (well, in five more days), DONE with being inside, and DONE with snow days. Snow days aren't fun anymore. I thumb my nose at them. Goodbye. Sayonara. Arrivederci. SCRAM. My three year old is BEGGING for the pool, and the beach. Buddy, mommy too. We leave next Friday. Counting down the actual minutes.

Sigh. On that note, I did stop at the packie to get wine- I may be a transplant but I know how winter storms go. As long as we don't lose cable we should survive.

Professional Development

Professional development are two words that strike fear in the hearts of pretty much every educator I know. It's a gamble- you are either going to spend hours of you life being bored out of your skull, or actually get a chance to learn a little something you can take back to your classroom. Teachers are HORRIBLE students. We just struggle with all that sustained focus. I was a horrendous student in college and grad school as my dear friend Sara Lynn can attest. She wanted to throttle me in Research Methods with my favorite professor, Kerry, every day. My goal was to get the professor as off topic as possible so that class was more entertaining. For the studious folk like Sara, this was torturous. I found it amusing. Once in grad school I was so off in la la land, I actually missed a professor yelling at me for not paying attention. Yeah, I know. Awful. How can someone like that actually get a B.A. in Sociology and History from an A list school (GO HAMILTON!!! It's a damn good school in all actuality- check it's rankings. I'm not lying) and an M.S.Ed? Um, here's the secret... I really adored what I was learning. It was interesting. What was not so interesting was having someone yak about it in lecture format. Give me some VAKT people! So it's no surprise that I have been working with marginalized populations of students since 1997. (#ohmygodIamsooldIcan'tevenusehashtagsright) Mostly, kids with high levels of emotional and behavioral needs combined with a myriad of learning and cognitive challenges. Sounds like fun, right? For me, yes, but for 90% of the teacher world- well, they would disagree. I think the right term now is more "at-risk youth" (which is sort of a dumb term too, isn't every adolescent EVERYWHERE at risk?) If you asked my parents they would think maybe I was more at risk- aside from three years in a regular old public school system, I have always had to be both CALM-V and CPI certified (fancy terms for verbal de-escalation and physical management of children who are struggling to maintain safety-restraints, basically). I have been assaulted numerous times. I have been called every single name that exists, including many that were made up in the heat of the moment. I have had to go to court and press charges. I have provided testimony in cases. This is the yucky stuff.

I have also gotten to witness students graduate, attend college, create lives for themselves- that's the good stuff.

I love going to work every morning (and not just because I get to drive to work post daycare drop off in absolute silence). I genuinely like my co-workers. I love IEP's and paperwork (really, I just love what they represent and provide for the kids). But it's MARCH. March is UGLY with "marginalized"populations. Enter professional development day! Wahoo! No students for eight hours! A chance to learn! Collaborate! Um, drink coffee calmly and whilst still hot.

Well, I was prepared yesterday. I had heard great things about our presenters, Martha and Michael, and the Positive Youth Development material. I was downright excited. Check out what they do so amazingly well. It was like fireworks. OMG THEY GET WHAT WE DO EVERY DAY. Like REALLY GET IT. If there was a double caps lock key I would use it. They get that we are teachers but are so thoroughly seated in a clinical world that it looks different in the classroom. They get that sometimes progress is measured in ways other than MCAS scores (don't even get me started) or report cards. They get that sometimes what our children need is way more important than learning how to spell serendipity or charybdis. It was awesome. Invigorating. Exciting. We went over time about fifteen minutes and NO. ONE. LEFT. Yeah, that's HUGE. We lingered. I honestly didn't want to leave. It was a full day training and honestly, I felt like I was only there ten minutes.

And now it's 4:17 in the morning and I have been awake since 3 am thinking about all the things I want to incorporate into my curriculum. My kids still need to know the difference between "your" and "you're", and be as academically prepared for the real world as possible- but maybe that means spelling charybdis wrong. And that's OK, especially if it means that they graduate feeling empowered.

Havin' a Party

So I am having a dinner party tonight- just to say thank you to some amazing people. This in and of itself is not novel- I love to entertain and any excuse I have to make numerous dishes with bacon is a great thing. However, I forgot the get the chocolate. You know, the chocolate I need to melt to dip the (vodka-soaked) fruit in, and to cover the mint truffles. No big, after J's nap we'll head to mecca, Weggie's. I was slacking on making the truffle insides because there is no real hurry, I can't finish them yet anyway. I had all the ingredients ready on the counter (mise en place is key when cooking with two smallish kids!) and decided to empty the dishwasher. M was putzing around and the next thing I knew I heard the food processor going. Um, hello heart attack. Never mind that it wouldn't run without the lid and all the safety gear in place, I thought I had a bacon loving poltergeist on my hands! Turning around, I find Mr. Cheffy Pants Magee making the truffles. He was crushing the cookies, and then said "OK Mommy, it's done, time for the rest!" I helped him take the lid off, and he popped in the rest of the ingredients, put the lid back on himself- AND REMEMBERED TO PRESS THE DOUGH BUTTON. I rarely remember that myself! This kid totally retains EVERYTHING. That's not a good thing all the time because my language is not so pretty sometimes. He can also recite "Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc" and does so every time we enter the alcohol section at Weggie's (he's never been to an actual liquor store- I'm not that terrible an influence- hang up on DCF) so the fact that he could make the truffles wasn't a total shock. We make them way too much because they are delicious, easy, and his beloved Miss Nessa at school is QUITE the fan. The dough button however? That blew me away. M finished his work, and dragged his stool over to the fridge and waited patiently for me to open it. "Hurry up mommy the dough needs to chill."

Hmm, ok, kid. I'll open the fridge for you, but you have to make lunch.