Some people think 9 year olds aren’t developmentally ready for intensive state testing, but I totally disagree– because if they’re clever enough to figure out THIS cover-all-your-bases strategy, they’re certainly prepared to sit for two 3-hour tests.
That feeling of pride you get when you take your students’ 4th grade state practice exam and only get one wrong.
That’s still an A, guys.
That moment when the person leading your whole-school professional development session tries to go to readathon.com on the hugely projected screen, but instead goes to thon.com.
Not one person was mature about it.
“My mom was doing my hair.” — Kid, on why she is 2 hours late for school.
For the record, her hair is in a bun.
My emilysposts1@gmail.com inbox is full of stories like this from people I’ve never met. Keep ’em coming, they make my day! (as do the more serious and personal mental health related emails, which of course I would never post, but please know, if I haven’t told you already, how much they touch my heart.)
I just witnessed a mom pulling her bratty toddler son down the street as he screams, cries, flails his arms, stomps his feet, and wails, over and over, “NOOOOO! I don’t like the cold! I DON’T LIKE IT! I DON’T LIKKKKKKKKKKKE ITTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!”
And as I stare at this hysterical, out-of-control kid, hell-bent on making sure every innocent bystander knows JUST how miserable the cold is making him, and going about it in the most dramatic, obnoxious way possible, I can’t help but think– oh good. Now I can stop doing it.
Thanks for taking over, kid.
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
I’m less concerned about the fact that my cell number was passed along without my permission than I am about the fact that someone has chosen to be good friends with Ebola Mom.
Also– 13 YEAR OLD BOY?! No. My misery quota for this season has been filled.
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