(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Glad someone’s keeping track of her kid’s progress. ![]()
For reference, the state tests are scored on a 1-4 scale:
1= below grade level
2= approaching grade level
3= on grade level
4= above grade level


(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Glad someone’s keeping track of her kid’s progress. ![]()
For reference, the state tests are scored on a 1-4 scale:
1= below grade level
2= approaching grade level
3= on grade level
4= above grade level


I spend my work days almost exclusively with children and no adults, so sometimes I’m tempted to have a more intellectual conversation than they are capable of having.
After reading this segment of a larger article on how pioneer children entertained themselves….

Kid: “Ok…but then what?”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Kid: “How is that a game? They’re just swinging a button.”
Me: “Right…well. I think that’s the point of the article. To compare and contrast how pioneer children entertain themselves with how children entertain themselves now.”
Kid: “Oh my god. I feel so bad for them. They must be so bored!”
Me: “Ironically and interestingly, I don’t think they were. Because they had to work harder to entertain themselves, they were probably better at it and more content than today’s children. Having to work harder for your entertainment makes you appreciate it more.”
Kid: (blank stare)
Me: “Ok, never mind. That might have been a bit over your head.”
Kid: (blanker stare)
Me: “Sometimes I overanalyze and put more of a psychological spin on these things than is necessary.”
Kid: (blankest stare)
Me: “Let’s get back to the article. What was the main idea?”
Kid: “Pioneer kids’ toys SUCK.”
Me: “Ok…not exactly….”
Kid: “I’m going to send them some better toys!”
Me: “But…you can’t send pioneer children toys…”
Kid: “Because they live too far away?”
Me: “No…”
Kid: “Or maybe their parents don’t let them take stuff from strangers?”
Me: “Stop talking and put down the pencil.”

(Continuation of Ebola Mom Part 61, Ebola Mom Part 62, and part of the Ebola Mom series)
Six days after the original incident, 4 days after realizing I was offended, and 2 hours before I’ll be seeing her kid….an apology!! ![]()

“Now what am I going to do?!”
— Eric, just now, with genuine fear and disappointment in his eyes, seconds after The Boog left their play date to go home and take a nap.



Eric: “What happened last night? You woke up SCREAMING in the middle of the night, it was crazy.”
Emily: “I know, sorry. I was having this really horrible nightmare.”
Eric: “What happened?”
Emily: “I was in a classroom trying to get everyone to be quiet and no one was listening, and no matter what I did, the kids kept misbehaving, and totally ignoring me like I didn’t even exist, so finally I mustered all my strength and just yelled as loud as I could.”
So basically my “really horrible nightmare” was my regular life every day for 9 years.

Kid (after her brother ran away from her): “He always does that when I try to give him a hug.”
Me: “My brothers used to do that too when I tried to hug them!” (False. Never tried to hug them).
Kid: “You have brothers? How old are they?”
Me: “Well, they’re younger than me, so…”
Kid: “SIXTY-TWO?!”

“Wait– you DID? When!?”
— Parent of a student I had last year (whose kid still attends the school), when I ran into her on the street and, after she asked me how I like my class this year, I told her I had left the school.
So you can see I made an impact.

“It’s pussy! It’s pussy! It’s pussy! IT’S PUSSY! Auntie Em, it’s PUSSY!”
— my 2-year-old nephew.
(It’s Percy)

(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Pretty sure she literally has us all programmed in her phone as “The Help.”
