Lemony Fresh!

Sometimes I like to help people feel good about themselves..Today, I am going to make you feel GREAT! If nothing else goes right in your day today, you will have this..."At least I'm not THAT stupid".  This is my gift to you today.

Joel and I like to go to breakfast.  For me, it's one of my most favorite things we do together.  It's a chance to spend some quality time together before our day gets hectic and besides that, I freakin' LOVE breakfast food.  Start my day off with some artery clogging eggs benedict or some syrupy sweet pancakes and I am one happy camper.

So, one Saturday morning we end up in a local diner. It's nothing fancy..your typical diner atmosphere but BOY, did it smell CLEAN.  We are sitting waiting for our food to come and every once I awhile I am getting this REALLY strong whiff of "cleaner".

Me: Wow, this place smells so clean.
Joel: "Huh?"
Me: Clean..it smells really fresh and clean in here. (Joel just looks at me like I'm stupid)

We continue our conversation and then BAM...there it is again.

Me: Don't you SMELL that?
Joel: Smell what?  I don't smell anything except greasy eggs and the guy behind me who smells like cigarettes and stale beer.
Me: You are CRAZY..it smells Lemony Fresh in here! Like the waitress just wiped down all the tables with lemon fresh pledge or something.


I look around but there isn't any waitress polishing the tables or mopping the floor so I am baffled. Our food comes..I start to eat..take a drink of my water and...THERE IT IS AGAIN!!

Me: Come on Joel..you have GOT to smell that..it's such a strong lemony fresh odor.
Joel: Honey I think you are losing your mind.
Me: Look..I've got one honker on this face, thanks to genetics, and I KNOW what I smell and it smells like CLEANER!!

Once again, I look around and THEN I start to giggle...I start to laugh hysterically...and I say to my husband...

Me: Know what ELSE smells like lemony fresh cleaner?
Joel: I have NO IDEA..what?
Me: LEMONS!

Every time I took a drink of my water I would smell that damn cleaner...Guess what was in my water?  Yep...slices of LEMON!

So Joel thinks I'm an idiot and now YOU can feel better about yourself...You're Welcome.

Time to Slay Dragons...

It's been awhile since I've written a new post.  At first, it was the holidays.  Too much to do, too many commitments, too much stress. I'll get back to it when things settle down, when life gets back to normal. Well, now it's March and I still haven't written. I haven't written because life will never be back to normal again.

One minute, I was 'daddy's little girl', and the next, I wasn't.  One minute, I had a daddy, and the next,  I was left with only memories.

In an instant I felt 6 yrs. old again.  All I wanted was my daddy to make it better, the way he always did.  I needed him to slay the dragons and make the monsters under my bed disappear, but this time he couldn't.  This time the dragons and monsters would win and suddenly the world seemed cold and frightening.

Losing my dad made me come to the realization that there was nobody left on this earth that would think I was perfect.  No one left that would see me as flawless.  Not that I am, far from it in fact, but when I looked into my dad's eyes I knew that's what he thought.  Don't get me wrong, I am loved, unconditionally even, but they see my flaws and love me in spite of them.   My dad just never saw them.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don't think I've been honoring him the way I should.  I've been stumbling through the days.  Taking care of my daily duties, but not really living. Allowing grief to take me prisoner and feeling like I've surrendered. My dad would be disappointed in that.

So... if I close my eyes and listen with my heart, I can hear him.  I can hear that low, deep, booming voice, and he is telling me...'Sis, it's time to live again. I have given you everything you need to slay those dragons on your own.'

I guess it's time I sharpen my dagger.

Angels are Among Us..Sometimes disguised as high school boys!

Sometimes, the gifts we receive at Christmas come wrapped in the most unexpected packages.

Typically, those are the best gifts of all.

Many years ago, I was fortunate enough to be given an opportunity that would change my life.

I wanted to make a difference in the life of a child at Christmas.

The idea wasn't new..it wasn't original..but it WAS rewarding.

I started the "Angel Tree" in our high school.  A holiday program that would identify young children in our community that would benefit from the kindness of others at Christmastime.

I felt it would also give our students an opportunity to understand the true meaning of the holiday season...love and giving from the heart.

A win-win for everyone involved.

Although the concept of the Angel Tree is simple... the execution can sometimes be tricky.

First, identifying those children who would benefit the most can be a delicate process.  We received names from area churches, elementary teachers and community members. Sometimes from students themselves who wanted to make sure their little brothers or sisters had something under the tree on Christmas morning.

We collected our "angels" and put them on a tree in the school foyer.  Students and staff members would choose an angel and that is who they would buy a gift(s) for.

People always LOVED to TAKE the Angels, but sometimes getting them to remember to go out, purchase a gift and RETURN it to me could be a challenge.  It seemed I was always chasing people down with only days to spare before our big delivery day.

All in all, even with all the craziness it involved, it was still the most rewarding experience of my life. And many times, the lessons that were taught about love and giving didn't come from me at all, but from my students.

My wonderfully caring and kind-hearted students.

One year, I had a group of young men approach me about taking some angels from the tree. The group of young men were students that lived in a community foster home.

Young men, who grew up knowing the pain of waking up Christmas morning with nothing under the Christmas tree at all.

Young men, who many would have understood, if they saw no importance in helping others when no one had helped them.

Instead, these young men, these beautiful, caring young men wanted to make a difference.  Wanted to be someone's hero.

At that moment, they were already mine.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little concerned about their ability to follow through on this commitment. These kids didn't have jobs, they certainly didn't have much themselves and I wondered if they would be able to fulfill their Angel Promise.

I was a FOOL..these kids had a plan.

They approached their foster mom and asked if they could do extra chores for money.  They asked teachers and neighbors if there were things they could do.

And they did them.

They raised money and they went shopping and they fulfilled children's Christmas wishes like it was nobody's business.

They were the ULTIMATE Santa's Elves.

And these kids weren't playin'...they didn't go to the dollar store and buy a matchbox car. NO, these kids came back with the most sought after gifts of the season.

It was BEAUTIFUL and NO, it wasn't about the gifts..it was about the GIVING. It was about their HEARTS.

It was about a group of young men that could have been bitter and angry...and instead, were loving and wonderful and magical.

Those young men taught me so much that year.  So much about the Spirit of Giving.

Unexpected packages perhaps....but those boys were truly the BEST gifts of all...simply THE BEST!

Left Holding the Dirty Underwear...

I think somewhere in my marriage vows my husband slipped in a line about me following him around for the rest of our days picking up after his ass.

I don't recall this line per say, but it must have been in there and my husband holds me to it.

I follow him around picking up dirty socks, dirty dishes and even dirty underwear...YES, dirty underwear...ewww.

Why it is so difficult to place the underwear IN the hamper is beyond me..it must be a Y chromosome thing.

Now I don't LOVE that I do this.  I have tried to put my foot down several times and refused to pick up after him...but guess what...it doesn't faze him!  Not in the least!

He will walk past those dirty ass underwear a HUNDRED times and NEVER pick them up.

He will even look right at them and leave them lay there. Now I'm sure he isn't trying to determine if they are his or not.  I mean, it's just he and I in the house, and I quit wearing boxer briefs years ago.

No...I think what he is thinking is..."Why in the hell hasn't Tonya  picked these up yet...Geez she's really slipping."

This irks me to no end. (yes, irks me? who says that?)

Anyway...last night was no different...EXCEPT, that it was....

Currently, we are out of town for work and renting an upstairs apartment.  We have to share a bathroom with the apartment across the hall and although I HATE this I am trying to make the best of it.

Therefore, it's a MUST that we respect the space and keep it clean and free from our usual clutter.  We've actually been doing pretty well with it...both us, and the guy across the hall. I appreciate this very much.

Well last night we hit a speed bump.  Just a little one...but one I felt needed to be addressed.

When Joel got home from work yesterday he quickly showered and then we were off to run some errands.

When we returned, we put up some Christmas decorations my wonderful husband had gotten me and then straightened up the place.

As I went into the bathroom I noticed that Joel had left a T-shirt and a pair of underwear hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

I was going to leave them there...let him be embarrassed when the guy across the hall saw what he had done.  That would have really taught him a lesson, right.

Well, I couldn't do that, so instead, I decided to grab them myself and continue the ritual of picking up after him. (it's just easier that way)

I walked into the room...dirty underwear in hand and said, "Ummmm...honey, you need to be more careful.  You don't want our neighbor to have to deal with your dirty underwear hanging in the bathroom do you?"

Well of course I don't dear...that would be rude of me."


"Well I'm glad we got that cleared up.  Now what do you want me to do with these?"

Well, I don't really care what you do with them.  THOSE are not mine.


I stood there dumbfounded...what did he just say? What was he talking about?  OF COURSE they were his...whose else could they have been?

WAIT A MINUTE.....

"These AREN'T yours?  You're telling me that these dirty, mens underwear that are currently in my hand are NOT yours?"

That's what I'm telling you...NOT mine.


"OMG...OMG...AHHHHHHH!  That means...."

Yep, THAT means you are standing there holding some strangers dirty underwear!


I run back to the bathroom...put them back on the door hanger...and wash my hands under scalding water!

When I finish and walk back into the room...my husband is laughing hysterically.

You know honey, I'm not a neanderthal. I wouldn't just leave my dirty underwear lying around like that.


SERIOUSLY...that's what he said....SERIOUSLY!

Yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus....

Yes Virginia...there IS a Santa Claus. And anyone who wants to ruin that for the children in my life is going to get their ass kicked...got it?

Yesterday, I read a blog post where the author asked, Do you lie (or make your kids lie) about Santa Claus?

The author and commenters talked about their struggle with perpetuating the LIE that is Santa.

SERIOUSLY PEOPLE?  You struggle with lying to your children about Santa? You struggle with the decision to bring joy to the heart of your child?  To allow him/her to get excited in the wonder of Christmas, in the magic of something so simple and innocent as Santa Claus?

If you do, then you SUCK!

SUCK. SUCK. SUCK.

Am I making myself clear?

One commenter wrote this:


     I never lie. Especially about fantasy worlds.

Critical thinking skills are an absolute must for kids to negotiate this big, weird world. Lying (and covering up the lie, again and again, making less and less falsifiable) is a disservice to the kids and a danger to society as a whole. Teach them to THINK, not to BELIEVE.

SERIOUSLY LADY?  STFU!

Letting your child believe in Santa Claus is a "danger to society as a whole"? I seriously want to throat punch this lady!

I imagine growing up as her child must be a real riot...you know, since she NEVER lies.

I can see it now...little Susie is upset because nobody has asked her to the school dance...enter "mom" to make it all better.


Well Susie, it's like this...you're ugly. You're fat and ugly and no boy wants a fat, ugly girl as their date to the dance.  Sorry, but that's the TRUTH..I wouldn't want to damage you by telling you a lie. 


I'm sure Susie will appreciate her mother's honesty.  She may slit her wrists, but at least her mom can be proud of the fact that she NEVER lied to her kids.

KUDOS mom...KUDOS to you!

For me..I will be a liar.  A BIG. FAT. LIAR.

I will encourage the children in my life to BELIEVE...to believe in goodness, and kindness, and wonder. I will teach them the importance of giving to others and allow them to feel the magical presence of Santa.

Yes, I will LIE to them...and my heart will burst with joy when I see their little faces light up at all the wonder that is Christmas.

 I believe that some day they will grow up to be well adjusted adults. In spite of, the belief in Santa Claus. Quite capable of using their critical thinking skills to navigate this big, weird world. Even if, for a few years they left cookies for Santa and heard the jingle of sleigh bells in the distance on Christmas Eve. Yes, I believe they will adjust to adulthood quite well, in spite of it all.

But for now...for now, I will allow them to enjoy the innocence of childhood.  It is a gift we only get once in our lifetime...I will not rob them of that.

So YES Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus....He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.

There's So much to know about your HOO-HA ladies....

Where the HELL have YOU been? It's been awhile since you visited my Blog ya know!

Oh wait...What? You haven't come because I have been neglecting my Blog and haven't written anything new in LONG time.

Well...Hmmmpf...what kind of excuse is that?  Fine...Fine...I'll write something...GEESH you're demanding!


Okay, so what shall I write about?  Aren't you all on pins and needles wondering?

 I was going to write about some of our travels over the last couple weeks and I WILL, but today something caught my attention and it made me think I should take some time to get back to my educational roots.

If you haven't read THIS you really need to.  Brittany is a hilarious writer and THIS is what gave me today's inspiration.  So go HERE now and I'll wait for you to get back.

SEE..I TOLD you..she's HILARIOUS right.  You people REALLY need to listen to me..I know what the hell I'm talking about ya know!

So after reading that post I knew I had to share this little ditty.  Think of it as a public service announcement.

 Now over the years I have taken  a lot of flack for being a health and phys. ed teacher.

"Wow...that has to be the EASIEST job EVER.  How tough can it be to teach kids to wear deodorant and to throw a ball out for kickball..hardee har har!"

Yeah... that's HILARIOUS douchebag...PLEASE take my job for a week and then get back to me would ya.  Oh, and during that week please teach the SEX EDUCATION unit to a bunch of horny teenagers! It's a HOOT!


ANYWAY.....


During one of my college health education courses this story was relayed to me and I feel it is my duty to do the same.

A girl about the age of 16 went to see her doctor because she had been sick for WEEKS and it wasn't getting any better.  To her HORROR the doctor told her she was, in fact, pregnant.

"That is IMPOSSIBLE! I am on the pill...there is NO WAY I can be pregnant!"

Doctor: Well I'm sorry honey but you ARE pregnant.  You know I told you that the pill is NOT 100% effective.  Sometimes, it can fail.  Are you sure you took the pill as directed...EVERY day at the SAME time?


"Yes...I did it the same time EVERY day. And I ALWAYS made sure it didn't fall out before I got dressed!"

Doctor:  HUH?  Wait...what do you mean you made sure it 'didn't fall out'? You did take the pill ORALLY, right?


"Ummm...orally?  I..uh...put it up there...you know, WHERE you get pregnant."


SERIOUSLY..I am NOT making this shit up!  This girl was sticking her birth control pills up her Hoo-Ha at the SAME time EVERY day!

Obviously, the girl was well lubricated to be able to dissolve that little pill so quickly...you know, before she got dressed.

I have since used this educational story during my sex ed unit.

 It NEVER fails that EVERY ONE of my students laughs and tells me how STUPID this girl must be. However,  I ASSURE you, somewhere, in one of those classrooms there was a girl (or several) that had a "lightbulb moment" that day.

So just to be clear....DO NOT put your birth control pills up your HOO-HA ladies...just SWALLOW...everyone KNOWS you can't get pregnant THAT way!

Oprah can SUCK IT!

Oprah can SUCK IT!

OMG...What am I saying?  Oprah I LOVE you...please forgive me...I just lost my mind for a moment.  This is all very traumatic for me.

Generally, I am not a materialistic person. I would rather give than receive and I'm rarely envious of the "things" that other people have. I lead a very blessed life and try to always remember that.

However,  today...TODAY, I am feeling like a whiny brat!  Why you ask?  Well, because I am sitting here watching Oprah's Favorite Things, Part One (yes, part ONE, Monday is the Final Final).  And all I can think about as I watch these crazy ass bitches, jumping around, crying and making complete asses of themselves is...WHY CAN'T THAT BE ME DAMMIT?

 I  know how to act like an ass.  I  can be a greedy bastard too you know!  


The thing that really pisses me off is that this year, I KNOW that I will never be in that audience.  This year, I have to come to the realization that my dream is DEAD.  How could Oprah do this to ME?


Damn, I hate when a dream doesn't come true.  Well, at least I still have the lottery.  I'm gonna win that bitch!  


Shut Up...I AM!

THIS will probably piss some people off...TOO BAD!

Disclaimer: If you are a parent of a child(ren) who acts out in public and you think that it's perfectly acceptable and the rest of the world should just put up with it because "they are just kids"..you will NOT like this post.  Oh and just to be clear...I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!


In a restaurant, on a plane, while I'm shopping...it doesn't matter where I am it seems that I am always in close proximity to a crying, screaming, acting out child. And before all you parents out there get your panties in a bunch I GET that they are kids...I ALSO GET that you as parents should attempt to DO something about your child when he/she is acting like an obnoxious lunatic in public!

It NEVER fails...whenever my husband and I go out to dinner, a family with one of these children are sat right next to or behind us.  It doesn't matter if we are the only people in the restaurant...inevitably they will be sat next to us.

Take last night for example. Joel and I had some shopping to do and afterwards we decided to stop for a quick bite to eat.  The restaurant was pretty empty and we were sat down at a nice booth.  We placed our order and then IT happens...two families with 5 kids were sat down directly behind us.

Look, I understand that children will occasionally yell or cry and that doesn't bother me in the least. Especially, when I can see that the parents are attending to whatever it is that the child needs.  What irritates the HELL out of me is when a child continues to do this and the parents IGNORE it!! Look you MOFOs... parent your children!

And don't give me that crap about you have as much right as everyone else to go out with your children...I AGREE with you.  It's when you disrespect MY rights, that I have a problem. You may be able to overlook your child crying and screaming and kicking the back of my seat, but I assure you... I CANNOT!

Soooo, to the man that continued with his adult conversation last night and ignored his little girl as she was SCREAMING at the top of her lungs, "DADDY...DADDY...DADDYYYYYYYY".  You should know that I wanted to turn around and punch you in the junk!  The only thing that saved you was that my husband talked me down off the ledge by offering me chocolate if I restrained myself...you should Thank Him!

I think the next time I am in this situation I will mimic the child's behavior and see how tolerant others will be of me. (and yes you don't have to point out that I am an adult and should know better)  I'm guessing it won't take long before I am asked to change my behavior or leave the restaurant...Hmmmm...what a concept!!

More Ricky to make you smile....

So last week I wrote about 'Ricky'...one of my favorite students.  If you don't know about Ricky you need to click HERE.


No, SERIOUSLY, click HERE NOW....I'll wait!


*do do do do do do do..do do do do..do, do do do do do..do do do do do do do..do..do do...do..do..do* (that's the jeopardy theme song playing while I wait)


Oh Hi...you're back.  Okay, so now you understand what a cool kid Ricky is and how much I adore this boy.


It's important for you to understand that, because when I tell you this story you need to know that I'm NOT 'making fun' of Ricky...not even close.


So...it's the end of phys. ed class and I send the kids in the locker room to get cleaned up and changed.


Some of the kids are done and are now hanging out with me waiting for the bell.  Ricky joins us shortly and approaches me...visibly upset.


Mrs. Fig...I don't know where my cards are.  I had them in my jeans back pocket, but now they're gone.


What cards hon?  Are you sure you had them with you?


It's a deck of cards and I'm sure I had them.


I ask Ricky if he locks his locker and he tells me he does.  He says he shares a locker with another student, Calvin.


Right away a couple kids speak up and say that maybe Calvin took the cards.


No way, Calvin wouldn't take my cards, Ricky says, Calvin's my friend.


Some of the kids roll their eyes, saying that if the locker was locked who else could have taken them.


Well, maybe I left them in my hall locker and just forgot.  I know that Calvin would never take them.


I am about to ask Ricky if he would like to go check his hall locker, when Calvin emerges from the locker room.


Calvin says,  Ricky...hey Ricky come here.


Yeah Calvin?  What is it?


Ummm...well, you have MY pants on...yours are still in the locker.


Well...CRAP!


**Okay, now go ahead...because we all did...we laughed so hard we cried. As the Cable Guy would say, I don't care who you are...that there's funny! **


So when Ricky returns from changing pants I ask him if he has his cards now.


He smiles and says... Sure do!


Then he looks at the kids that were so sure Calvin had to have taken the cards and says...


See guys...I told you Calvin would never take my cards.  He's my friend.


God, I LOVE that kid!

Ricky...

During the course of a school day many things can frustrate a teacher.  Homework not being completed, unruly students, lack of needed materials and on and on, but then something will come along and put it all back in perspective for you.

On one particular day, it wasn't a 'something', but rather, a 'someone'.

Ricky.

I loved Ricky.  I know teachers aren't suppose to have favorites, but I'll let you in on a little secret...WE DO! (you're shocked I know)  Ricky was one of my favorites....No doubt about it.

Ricky was a student in one of my physical education classes.  He showed up every day, on time.  He dressed properly, always participated, and did his very best at whatever the activity was for the day. He never complained and he was the sweetest kid EVAH!

Oh, and he was legally blind.

As a teacher, I made as many modifications as I could to make Ricky's experience as positive and safe as possible.  However, it IS gym class.  There would be flying projectiles and uncoordinated, over-caffeinated kids running around and inevitably INTO one another.  Ricky and his parents were aware of the risks, but were adamant about allowing Ricky to participate in all class activities.

Well...okey dokey then.

During the indoor soccer unit I used a modified soccer ball that was neon green in color and had a beeping mechanism inside of it to help Ricky identify where the ball was.  This was a good idea in theory, but the reality was that after about 3 good kicks the beeping thingamajig no longer worked.  For the most part, it wasn't that big of a deal and Ricky did just fine.

Then one day, Ricky had a request....

Ricky: Mrs. Fig, can I change positions?


Me: Sure Ricky, where would you like to play?

Come on...guess... what position he wanted to play?

Yep...

Ricky: Cool...I want to be GOALIE!


Me: (Gulp) Oh...umm..are you SURE Ricky?  Don't you think that might be a little dangerous?

Ricky: Oh come on Mrs. Fig...what's the WORSE thing that can happen?


Of course I'm thinking...umm....well the worse thing is, you are going to get a ball kicked in your face and break your nose.  Then, my boss is going to say, 'What in the HELL were you thinking putting a blind kid in as GOALIE...are you INSANE?!

But...Ricky's parents made it VERY clear they wanted him to have no restrictions. I looked at his personal aide and she said, "Let's go for it.  I'll stand back there and help him by giving him play by play of where the ball is."

Well, okey dokey then.

Me: Okay Ricky, get in there.  Let's see what ya got kid.

The rest of my students looked at me like I'd lost my marbles (can you blame them?).   I just smiled and said, 'Okay, come on now, let's play."

Now the thing is, I had GREAT students.  They never complained when games needed to be modified and they were very good about looking out for Ricky.  So I knew that although they would play hard, they would also take a little off their shots on goal.

Well....MOST of my students would.

Everything was going fine and then one kid becomes a bone head.  He steals the ball and is headed towards Ricky.  He gets right in front of the goal and then unloads a super hard kick right at Ricky.

Ricky puts his hands up to try to deflect the ball, but he's a little late.  The ball hits Ricky in the face and ricochets through the goal.

I gasp...the rest of the students gasp..and Ricky shakes his head and says, "Did I stop it?"

Everyone smiles and starts to laugh...not in a mean, teasing way, but more in a 'you're something else kid' kind of way.  I say, "Sorry Ricky, he got that one past you."

Ricky: "Well...CRAP!"


Meanwhile...the kid who shot the goal is running around the gym...hootin' and hollerin'...and fist pumping, because he scored.

It's funny how sometimes as a teacher you don't have to say a word.  The other kids just looked at him and shook their heads.  One boy gave him a slug in the arm and said..."REALLY?"

And Ricky?

Ricky was PISSED.  He shook off the knock to his noggin' and says, "Come on guys, let's go.  I'll stop the next one."

Yeah, that's right...THAT'S Ricky.  You can see why he was one of my favorites, right!

I thought so.