It's 85 degrees outside and I'm sitting at the computer blogging instead of kneeling outside gardening. Bad girl.
The thing is, I'm tired. I think I'm going to try to convince my son that a nap is in our best interest. After all, if I take a nap, I'll be fully prepared to stay up late again.
This week I started teaching a 10 day unit for school. The class I'm teaching is British Literature and the unit is focused on society and how much we put our celebrity "royalty" under a microscope and people in general have to have their fix of celebrity gossip but that their lives (and mistakes) aren't a whole lot different than "normal". I'm using Alexander Pope's "The Rape of the Lock" as the anchor for the unit.
It's a really light unit as it's the end of the year and the kids are checking out. The class I'm in is made up of seniors and juniors and I lose the seniors next week, a couple of days before I'll be done.
I don't know why I'm getting into all of this right now. The point is, today my lesson was evaluated by my instructor and filmed by my mother (we have to be filmed). I explained to the kids yesterday what was going to happen today. I planned a stimulating lesson and everything went off beautifully. I interacted famously with the kids. They're funny, they're cute, they're spontaneous. I really felt like I belonged there and it's incredible to possess the notion that I've made the right choices.
My mom said I cross my arms too much. I have to work on that.
When the class was over and my mom and I were driving home, my phone buzzed and she grabbed it. She said, "Oooh... you have a text message from _________." I blushed . I'm 31 years old and she still has to butt into my business and embarrass me. What's up with that? I love her. I have the best mom.
A friend brought up going to his daughter's soccer game in a blog and now I'm going to be a copycat- sort of.
Jenna has been playing for four years and she has all of the sports skills of, well, me. This equates to zero sports skills, for those who are unaware. She sucks at sports. I love her, but she's just not good.
Until this year.
Now, she's tearing it up out there. At her first game this season, Todd and I were speechless. We just kept looking at each other, puzzled, and saying, "Is that our daughter?" She's actually scoring goals. The problem with this is that she's only scoring during the Monday evening games (two goals last night) while I'm at school. I have yet to witness my daughter score a goal. I'm getting a complex.
I was super tempted to put a survey in here, but I don't want to hinder my recovery. There is no "the other." Sorry to mislead.
Have a nice day, enjoy the weather- if yours is as lovely as mine.
I'm taking a damn nap now.