“Getting sand in your butt is just part of growing up.”
— Mom, to my baby nephew
I did not ask for the backstory.
Tag Archives: kids
Roadblocks
Staring at your Charity Miles app for almost the entire duration of your 9 mile OBX run in what can only be described as dog-death humidity (I swear I passed a whimpering, defeated camel), does NOT make the time go by faster.
It DOES, however, cause you to trip over a toddler on his tricycle.
Sorry, kid.
But seriously. Stop crying.
You’re fine.
Be Clear
Going through some old photos and found this gem from a former student.
A big concept we teach in 3rd grade is to “make sure your writing is clear for your reader.”
You can tell from the last line that he took this to heart.
#myworkhereisdone
Shhhh, Hush Now
A couple days ago, there was a tornado here in Glen Arbor, Michigan, where I am vacationing at a family friend’s lake house. When the tornado hit, I hid in a basement nook with 4 other adults and 2 young children. Then the following conversation ensued between me and a 5-year-old….
Kid (completely calm): “Um excuse me?”
Me: “Yes, hun?”
Kid: “What is happening?”
Me: “Oh. Well. There is a big storm outside, so we are just huddling here to stay safe. Everything is ok, though. As long as we’re down here we are ok.”
Kid: “Is it a tornado?”
Me: “I think it might be, yes.”
Kid: “Then that means the sky turned green.”
Me: “Hmmm. I don’t think so, kiddo. Pretty sure the sky turns grey.”
Kid: “No. It turns green. Green for a tornado.”
Me: “Ok, shhh. Quiet now, little one. You’re scared and not making sense.”
So after speaking to witnesses, it turns out skies 100% do turn green in a tornado. Who knew?!
Like, besides that 5 year old.
Yeah I’m an idiot.
Waiting for a text from Ebola Mom…
in 5…4…3…2…
The good news is that it can NOT be spread by human contact.
The bad news is that Batshit McGee will NOT understand this.
Side note: the symptoms are headache, fatigue, and confusion– so I’ve either had this disease my entire damn life, or I wouldn’t even notice if I DID contract it.
Win-win!
The REAL Truth About O.J. Simpson
My dad used to be acquainted with O.J. Simpson. This was in the pre-Bronco days. They served on a board together, and became acquaintances (yes, I am carefully avoiding the word “friends,” because they weren’t friends. Also because O.J. does this thing where he murders people.)
The only reason this relationship is memorable is because one day, my dad decided to ask this cold-blooded killer for some parenting advice.
Dad: “Should I send my youngest kid to Winaukee, a 2-month sleep away camp, this summer? He’s only 5 years old.”
O.J.: “Absolutely! It’ll be the best summer of his life!”
So Dad sent him. Because O.J. SIMPSON IS FULL OF GREAT IDEAS!
Zack spent that entire summer crying in the infirmary. The camp nurse was his best friend. Occasionally he’d take a break from sobbing to ride a horse, which, at an all-boys camp, made him a huge weirdo. When Steph and I (who were at Robindel, the sister camp across the lake), would show up for visitation on Sundays, we’d find him shirtless, wearing one Teva sandal, and covered in a mix of dirt, weeks-old temporary tattoos, and general despair. Jeremy was at the camp with Zack and was supposed to be looking out for him but, in a shocking turn of events, no one ever knew where the fuck Jeremy was or what he was doing. But he sure as shit wasn’t looking after Zack. Which is ok, since, at 8 years old, he was probably too young to be at camp himself.
Bottom line– it was, without question, the worst summer of Zack’s life.
So the point here is this: I don’t care if you do or don’t believe that O.J. Simpson is a murderer– I have indisputable proof that he is, at the very least, a big fucking liar.
It’s a shame no one asked me to testify in court.
So THIS is why babies are stupid!
Look where they’re getting their information!
Here’s a book my baby nephew is currently “reading” (Sucking on. Licking. Trying to put inside my nose. Then losing interest and trying to put his fist inside my nose.)
No wonder he stares at me blankly, line of drool slowly zig-zagging down his chin, whenever I ask him to hand me my phone. The kid is so fucking confused!
Shame on you, American children’s book publishers.
It’s like you WANT China to win.
“Good Writers Use ALL The Tools in Their Writer’s Toolbox”
When you’re writing your speech for your co-teacher’s rehearsal dinner and it’s 12pm on a Wednesday, it’s pretty important to be drunk on homemade cocktails.
You know, similar to how we teach our students to approach the writing process.
#thisspeechwontmakesense
Sababa
Woman next to us on the Tel Aviv beach (pointing to her chair): “Can you watch this for me while I leave for a bit?”
“This” = her 3 year old child.
Oh, ok. Sure.
#israelis
Orthodox Jews Love Me
That moment when you wake from an Ambien-induced airplane slumber to find that the 10-year-old, yarmulke-wearing orthodox boy who was sitting next to you has now traded seats with his grandmother, as your tendency to unconsciously lean over, curl up and drool on his shoulder was making him uncomfortable.
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