Luke...i am your fruit.
Luke…i am your fruit.

Because I’m what we call a “specials” teacher, as in I pull students out of their regular class to make them double-fist English vocabulary and grammar, I don’t have a core group of kids that I get to know really well. Sometimes I feel like most students don’t know who I am. For example, instead of my actual name, a lot of them refer to me as “Professor Banana.” But today I realized that I am indeed leaving some kind of impression, because they certainly know what I don’t like. I know this because about a dozen of them conspired to convince me at various points throughout the day that I was being attacked by insects.


“Oh, Miss Weight, there is a bug on your dress!”      “HELP HALP HELP ME!”     “HAHAHA APRIL FOOLS!”

All day.

My sweetheart student (the one that wants to be a successful businessman so he can buy Bibles to take to China and tell people about Jesus, and wants me to get a boyfriend already so I can get married and be a mom. Sigh.) TOTALLY PRANKED ME and said that he was moving away in a month! My heart stopped. Such a freaking punk.

How is it that they don’t know to put their name on their papers, they don’t know if it’s Monday or Thursday, heck, they can barely zip up their pants, but they know THIS is the day they can be buttheads in training and get away with it? Mind-bottling.

kids after they get me good...
kids after they get me good…

Other than that, the day was disappointingly April-Fools-Free. No one fake-proposed to me today (re: April 2010). Gone are the days when I could call Mom and Dad and try to pull “I’m pregnant/I’m in jail/I moved to China” on them (re: those crazy college years I am so grateful were not captured digitally, thank you Jesus).

If I tried that today the conversation would end with – “I follow you on instagram and Find My Friends. Knock off the tom-foolery.”

Technology has ruined all my fun.


It’s definitely the expected crazy at school this time of year. But so rewarding to see a lot of my kids really progressing.

I have one student who is in first grade. He’s from China, adopted a few years ago by an Italian family living in Brazil sending their kids to an American school. He was born with a cleft-lip. He has (understandably) a lot of things in his life that make learning and doing well in school difficult, and this often becomes evident in his emotions and frustration at not being able to express himself in a way most people understand.

I love him more than most people I’ve ever known.

At the beginning of the year, with his warm and always slightly damp bottom planted firmly in my lap, arguing over who got to control the mousepad, suffering through countless Youtube videos of the ABCs, countless flashcards, countless TPR exercises to learn even just two letters a week, I never thought we’d make it through this school year. I thought he might not make it to second grade.

And now this precious baby who lights up like a firecracker when he sees me and occasionally throws tantrums when I don’t let him have more than one sticker a day and cheats at cards like an old man with nothing to lose can read! books!

And I’m crying just thinking about how proud I am, how proud he is, how hard he and his mom and his two other teachers and I have worked. Also he’s started kissing girls on the cheek at recess and they confess they like it. Sometimes it’s just effingham magical to be a teacher. You get to watch worlds unlock. Narnia.

office space printer gifOf course, there are parts of teaching that suck. Lately I’ve been having some real issues with our printers. And I’m constantly needing to print things. So when they won’t work for me….let me just say that nothing makes me lose my mind quicker. I cannot keep my cool. My language gets a little dicey. My mind exits, pursued by bear.

The students are already seeing the end of the school year in sight and Spring Break is around the corner, and they’re getting a little whiney. It got so bad in one class I created a shaming tally on the board, marking a tick every time one girl in particular whined. I had to explain what “whine” meant, and did a pretty remarkable impression. I was asked to repeat it. We added “whine” to our vocabulary poster. And I put her name on the board and marked each time she whined and then related it to our word wall. You might think this cruel, but it’s particularly effective. It only took one week until she raised her hand to say “Miss, I no have mark today because I didn’t do no whining.” I’m calling that a win.

bfast of champions.
bfast of champions.

To close, here is a picture of my breakfast today.

Midol. Coffee. Chocolate. Sunscreen as an afterthought.

It’s Easter, and I live in a great country, so I’ve been given a lot of chocolate lately, and it sure came in handy this morning.

It feels strange to not see any traditional baskets or dye any eggs, but Mexican roomie held down the cascarón tradition and I have one to bestow upon a lucky/unlucky soul tomorrow.

It makes me miss a different home – Santa me and ry fiestaBarbara – so I’ll just leave this picture here because it makes me happy.