The Mexican Marcel Marceau

I knew this week would be chaotic because tomorrow is my insect fair at school, it's Halloween and I started the week with little sleep because  I went to the concert the night before.  I have great video from it and would blog about it but I can't seem to find my laptop case with all of my wires and I am too damn tired to look for it.  But I will write about it.  

This week has been a whirlwind.  Not one free millisecond (can you tell I'm getting ready for my measurement unit?)  I have had at least on person every day tell me, "I don't know how you do it.  Teach here, at this school (translation; teach at school with extremely high expectations and standards and some kick arse teachers), have a family, run marathons and go to concerts."  I am not Wonder Woman (though I'd sure love her red boots) nor do I think that I am spectacular because I can do many things.  Extreme thought and planning and hard work go into it.  And the obligatory wind down beverage on the weekend.

Last night I almost cancelled training because I was so exhausted and overwhelmed with work but I went anyways and am so glad I did.  It was the boost that I needed.  It was quiet and I had the treat (she says with a straight face) of having both EC and TG spot me.  They both stood there in shock as I made my way around the gym with my program and did things on my own.  I think I heard a "Look at her, she knows what she's doing."  Um, no duh!  I really am trying to understand things more comprehensively so asked why my excellence at back squats ( well, excellence might be a little strong) did not translate into excellence with squats with the GCB bar (FP-I'm working on the picture thing.)  I got a whole lot of information on stability and something else.  Don't be fooled; I still make faces at things.  But I must say, I am more focused and determined.  I see Marchese and Morgan on Thursday night after an almost 2 month absence.  Oh, this is going to hurt.  

So why the pic of French mime Marcel?  Because right now I have no voice.  I haven't all day.  I am not sick.   My throat doesn't hurt.  But as the day progressed, it kept fading and by lunch, voila, no voice.  Makes teaching kind of hard.  I had kids speak for me (they loved that.)  At first I freaked out.  But then I started to notice how my body was adapting to not being able to speak.  I was such a better listener.  The last 10 hours have been like a bad case of charades.  I have to get it back by tomorrow.  I have 50 people coming to my room for this fair.  And to top it off, my Comcast email account is down and I haven't been able to read my email for 2 days.  If you need to contact me, text me because remember, I can't talk!!  

Morning update:  Still no voice and I feel fine.  Well, I have a voice but it sounds like "Joe Cocker" as my friend John said.  I was kind of hoping for Kathleen Turner.  Where's my white face paint and Hamburglar shirt?   This should be an interesting day....

Velma, Zac and some seriously insane alternative music; the weekend ahead

I have been up since 4:45 a.m.

I have worked through every lunch and dinner has been eaten standing up rushing from one thing to another all week.

It is a Friday night, not even 9:00 and I am in mismatching pajamas getting ready for the weekend ahead of me.  I've been laying low lately (well, for me) and it's felt good.  But I'm gearing up for a full end of October, November and December.  And I couldn't be more excited.  Everyone needs a rest period.  I guess in some ways, October has been a "deload" month.  Yet I'm still going 24/7.  Work, work, work.  Which kills me because I'm known for telling so many of my friends, "You work too hard, you need to make time for yourself." I haven't seen so many of my friends for awhile.  I mean how sad is it that I had to squeeze Frooty/Fruity time at 7:00 a.m. last Saturday morning when I went with her to Sommerville to a bakery to pick up a pie.  I got in the car and we looked at each other like, "it's this early, we're with one another and not in a hotel? Or hungover?" It's time to get back in the game.  Remember though, the game in which I play requires two uniforms; madre and Steph.  Just take a look at this weekend.

Raced from work to meet my mini-me at The Wayland Beach to hang out with the Brownies.  Made S'mores but didn't eat any.  I got a frown about that one.

Went home for 45 minutes where I checked my email before heading out to Halloween Movie Night at the kid's school.  Like I hadn't spent enough time with screaming kids today.  While there had a revelation about Velma from Scooby Doo.

Daphne screwed Velma over.  Think about it.  If your best friend wore mustard colored turtlenecks, pleated skirts, knee high socks, had a hair cut that resembled a mushroom cap and looked like Austin Powers' long lost love child, wouldn't you say something?  I think Daphne was one of those wenchy girls who wanted to keep her best friend ugly to make herself look good.  As I was examining Velma tonight, I noticed; the girl has muscles.  I mean her calves are like manly.  She's smart and spunky.  I totally want to go give her a makeover.  Keep who she is but without the hot dog condiment color pallet. 

Tomorrow you ask with anticipation?

High School Musical 3.  Just write SUCKER on my forehead with a Sharpie.  At least I'm going with my friend Kim and her daughter and we're meeting the men in our families for dinner at my favorite brew pub in Waltham afterwards.  But Zac Effron is a cutie........

But it's ALL worth it for Sunday night.  Sitting on the hard, cold gym floor with screaming kids, cheezy teenybopper musicals etc.  Sunday night is Broken Social Scene and special guest, Land of Talk.  

Most people raise their eyebrows when they see Broken Social Scene playing in my car.  Aquaman always made fun of them.  Until he actually listened to them.  Whoa!  Change of opinion.  They are real.  There is no hype, no special effects.  Just a bunch of guys and one chick creating music.  I get lost when I listen to them.  They get lost.  It's going to be one of those concerts when the jamming will 

(editorial note; I just took a 20 minute cat nap.  No joke; fell right over, drool and everything.  I have got to get my social mojo back; timely wouldn't you say since I'm writing about Broken SOCIAL Scene.)

take on a life of it's own.  There is something strangely seductive about their music.  Last week Aquaman (who strangely wanted to go to this one) asked who was opening for them.  I stupidly replied, "Some band I've never heard of.  We don't have to see them."

That would have been one of the bigger mistakes of my life.  Actually, I am a firm believer that the best learning comes from our mistakes but I'm not sure what I would have learned from this one other than I was really freakin stupid.  Hmm, maybe there was a lesson to be learned...

So last Sunday I decided to check them out in iTunes.  5 minutes later I had downloaded 10 songs.  Where do I begin?  This band makes me think.  They make me long for things.  They create this feeling of uncomfortable desire.  But desire of what?  That I honestly don't know.  They make my mind almost drowsy.  I like to close my eyes, sway my head and move the hips.  It's the kind of stuff that is intelligent yet creates that feeling in your throat right before you cry.  This is the kind of music you'll hear in a bar or store and you'll yell "Who is this?"  It's pull your hair, throw yourself against other bodies.  And I knew I had found a new staple of my musical diet when I heard the lyrics, "You can't keep a girl who likes good music down."  I think I'm almost more excited to see them then BSS.  We're hitting Teatro for our pre-concert meal.  Nothing like some pineapple infused vodka to get me warmed up.  I will do nothing but fold myself into the music and get lost into the new discoveries I hope to get.  I haven't anticipated a musical event this much for quite awhile. 

I was intrigued by the review of The Communist Dracula Pageant in The Globe which I am seeing next weekend.  The critic said it left you wanting more.  I love that.  I don't always but with plays, well art in general, I do.  I think the artist/writer etc has done their job if they do that.  How disappointing would it be if all your questions were answered?  People want such resolution and NOW that they miss the beauty in the state of being incomplete.  Man, that cat nap did wonders to my thought process.  November also brings The Smashing Pumpkins, The Cheetah Girls (all within 24 hours) and Johnatha Brooke.  December is Aimee Mann, Lori McKenna (solo acoustic; tinkle in your skivvies time people) and of course The Ryan Mountblue Band.   

Okay, I'm going to turn off all the lights, lie on the couch, stare at the ceiling and listen to Land of Talk.  And not drool this time.

Blood Strangers

This one is for those of us who were shunned by a parent, sibling or so called "blood relative" for reasons that are inexplicable and at times were hurtful but you know what, we are okay because we have surrounded ourselves with people who we actually want around.

No, nothing happened to me today to warrant this tirade.  This is the result of many conversations with my friends and of course, myself.  It's time to get it out.

The picture to my right is inspired by Italian 

judge and playwright, Ugo Betti who wrote:

"I think the family is the place where the most ridiculous and least respectable things in the world go on."

I work so hard to make sure that my children feel safe, loved and cared for.  Unconventional is a good word to describe out little family.  I am not the milk and cookies mom (more like the margaritas and cupcakes mom.)  We order take out at least 3 times a week.  The house is organized chaos.  But when we laugh, we laugh belly laughs, when we hug they are big bear hugs, we discuss politics, music, movies and life.  I hope as they get older they will admire and respect the authenticity and passion that they grew up with.

Cujo and I feel many times that we are the "black sheep" in our family and extended family.  Kind of funny since my mom always felt the same way.  In our immediate family, we are unsure if our direct honesty, fervor for life and spontaneity are understood.  But as we say, "we'll always be there for each other."  I think we have different ways of showing up. Now you need to understand that like all good ethnic families, "family" is everything.  You may talk behind each other's backs but dammit if you don't go to the kid birthday party with the 2,389 other family members to eat, drink and smash the pinata.  We Mexicans are into the bigger than life celebrations.  But I will go months without speaking to any of them.  Months. 

But what about years?  Like your entire life years without contact.  Like with whom I lovingly refer to as The Sperm Donor.

But I didn't!  I have never met or even seen a picture of my "sperm donor. " I know his name.  You know, Stephanie Garcia just doesn't have the ring as the oh so ethnic Holland.  I know that he was good looking (well, that was a given.)  I don't particularly think that he was a stand up kind of guy since the man has never once tried to contact me.  I'm pretty sure I have many half brothers and sisters (if one of them likes Lori McKenna, runs and has a thing for MAC lip gloss and margaritas, I will die!)  I really think that so many of my insecurities stem from the fact that my own birth father rejected me sight unseen.  My Grandpa Gus, who I've been thinking a lot about lately thanks to reading something very inspiring, was so right when he refused to let my mom give me his name.  Hence, I was and in so many was still am a Hidalgo.  

I have had conversations with at least 2 people in the past 2 days who are kind of in the same situation but they were rejected, shunned, refuted after a relationship had been established.  I just don't understand it.  What could a baby, child do to deserve this?  

Or what about the "family" who is always so critical, judgemental and downright mean.  Exclusionary?  The ones that inflict pain not by with what they so much do but DON'T do.  We say we shouldn't care, don't want to care but for some reason, we do.  And we hate ourselves for it.

I don't find it odd that my close friends can tell tales of "blood strangers"; people we are related to by blood but who we do not share dreams, secrets and aspirations with.  Maybe that is a layer of our connection.  I do think it's why we value one another and take celebration in our discovery of one another.  

Maybe one day I will finally meet him.  I have lots of questions.  Do you laugh when someone falls, have a constellation of freckles on your stomach, like to dunk your graham crackers in your milk and love to hear the crunch of morning frost as your feet walk across the lawn?  FP must have milk when she has dessert,  always orders a Mocha at coffee shops and taps her left foot to the beat of the music when she drives.  How do I know?  She's like family.

Damn you Lori McKenna.

The wee bitty image to my right; the cover to Paper, Wings and Halo by who else?

Let me just say that I wasn't even going write tonight.  I am beat but beat in the sense that I feel good, strong and energized.  But I have come to realize that this blog has become my nightcap (though I have never practiced that; shock of all shocks, I know), my warm cup of milk.  It's a way of organizing myself, instilling a sense of calm.  I don't get it but that's what this has become.

If I was going to write it was probably going to be about Land of Talk because honestly I have listened to them non-stop since Sunday.  I made a cd for Kevin and he told me tonight, "I don't usually like female vocalists but they are really good."  Of course, would I give anybody bad music?  And let me just rant for one second here.  Why is it such a stretch for guys to like female vocalists?  I truly respect a man that can fully embrace a girl who can sing the you know what out of a song.  And kill the guitar while doing it.  I will write about them.  But not tonight.  Another thing I learned from blogging; never plan a blog.  Write from the heart, write in the moment.  That is real.  Might be ugly and disjointed sometimes but it is the real thing.

So, I have She-Ra to thank for this one.  I was pleasantly surprised when I got to Hudson and saw She-Ra there.  She's usually only there on Saturdays.  It's nice to have another girl around who will think nothing of putting the men (or are they boys?)  of CP in their place with a from the heart insult.  By the way, genius struck me as I was training tonight.  One by one each of the guys came out "dressed up."  They were all going out to dinner in Boston for shock of all shocks, STEAK!  Now if they had said The North End I would have thrown She-Ra in my car and followed them to take pictures of them slurping spaghetti into their mouths and sold them on the internet for mucho dinero.  We are in a recession you know.  

I was impressed that their outfits matched.  I complimented Brian on the matching belt and shoes ("I've had these shoes since high school."  I told him to be quiet and not ruin the image.)  Kevin was proud of his designer jean deal of the century.  She-Ra and I shook our heads because the jeans we buy seldom go on sale.  Now Cressey would have gotten an A (nice black dress shirt, khakis) but gets marked down for the rubber flip flops.   Now I wear jeans and "nice" flip flops but khaki's and rubber ones? That is so Matthew McC and EC and I both make fun of him.  He is excused though; his better half is not around to help him get dressed.  I would have to give best dressed to Tony; urban chic is they best way to describe it.  So as I see them all coming out one by one and I am sweating in my shorts and oversized tee shirt (day 2 is no picnic on this new program) an idea comes to mind.  Understand this; when you walk in to the CP office tons of merchandise is on display; tee shirts, shorts, sweatshirts, hats etc.  There is a huge CP on the wall.  All that is missing are bobble heads of the crew.  Once again, I'm thinking recession, brainstorming ways to generate some side income and the lightbulb goes off.  I look at She-Ra and Brian and say, "We should make a Men of CP calendar!  Think of the money we would make."  One of them laughs and the other has fear in the eyes like don't say that too loud.  Now I would not buy a calendar of the people I see three times a week and put me through a good kind of hell.   But you bet there are some fools out there that would pay good money for this.  Deadlifting pumpkins for October, eating turkey off the bone a la Caveman for November...think of the possibilities.

As we are leaving She-Ra gives me some cookies she made.  I was so happy!  And she gives me some Lori McKenna and Patty Griffin cds to download.  I was excited; though I am starting to get some of my anger/passionate creativity and ferocity back with my new smash your body into a wall music, Lori is Lori and is sacred.  Everyone is in bed, I'm doing work and downloading and listening and then I hear it.

The guitar chords that sound an awful lot like Beautiful Man.  Yet it is not Beautiful Man.  It's Hardly Speaking a Word.  Suddenly I am transported back to this summer when I heard BM for the first time and had to stop driving, doing laundry and just sit and cry.  I put my correcting pen down and listen.  And then again.  When you have a musical moment like this, you must rid yourself of all distractions.  Focus, focus.  I then start having a fit.  Not another song that will pierce through the layers of my skin, my soul.  I shake my head and start mumbling, no, no, no (Aquaman is looking at me like not again.)  Then I hang my head in defeat.  Stop the fight Steph, embrace it's beauty, heartache and wisdom.  So that was about 2 hours ago and iTunes tell me I have listened to the song 12 times now.  I am not ready to write about the song.  That will take time.  But damn you Lori McKenna for writing another song that will haunt me in my waking hours and sleep.  Sleep?  I so need to go to sleep right now.  Tomorrow is a wake up at 5:00 a.m. treadmill session.  But let me just play the song one more time........

It's official; I FINALLY got a written program. Adios pink board!

We're not even going to get into last night.  I will say this, and I say this in fourth grade language, "The team that brought their A game won and showed great team work."   Whatever.

Remember my pink board?

Kind of funny that it is made out to Hamburglar after my recent infatuation with McDonald's characters.  Some history.  99.9% of the clients at CP have a written out program on white paper that they pick up when they arrive and follow and write down weights etc.  These programs typically last 4 weeks and then change.  I never have.  Of course I had a program but it was never written down for me to see.  My program was always written on my pink board.  Something always hurt etc so they would modify on the spot which was good.  That was fine.  I liked my pink board.  But I never knew what I had lifted, what weight to start at. I was the co-dependent of the place.  Every gym needs one you know.  

But after the marathon I started training 3x a week.  And the unthinkable started to happen.  I actually started to get stronger (well, with some stuff.)  I was not scared (yeah sure I would complain, and come on I wouldn't be me if I didn't flash my "Whatchytalkinabout Willis" face when I saw something new) to lift heavy stuff.  Nothing was hurting.  

After the half marathon I told EC and TG that they needed to "kill me" over the next 8 weeks and could I please, please have a written out program.  All agreed it was time.  Look what was waiting for me on Saturday.

I got my own program!  EC handed it to me with such care and said, "Here you go." This is actually tonight's hell session; like the drops of sweat?  You should have seen me on Saturday.  Skipping around, showing everybody.  Danny told me "there's some good stuff in here Steph."  Ooops, didn't even read it before showing it off.  Brian was like, "Finally."  Tony was slightly scared at how happy these three sheets of paper made me.  Jason even gave me his manly pink clipboard so I would still have some pink in my program.  I'm tearing up just thinking of that wonderful day.

Reality hit today.  "Kill me?"  Me and my stupid big mouth.  Here's tonight's program:

A1) Close Grip Incline Press 4x6 (oh crap, I just realized I did sets of 8-maybe I am Wonder Woman??)  These were new.  Tony told me; bring the incline bench over and set it under one of the racks.  He got the face.  I yell, "The whole bench?"  That one killed Kevin.  Tony gave me his face and said, "It has wheels."  Did those at 85 pounds.  Not bad for my first time.

A2) Seated cable row-neutral grip 4x10.  Old stuff.

B1) Neutral Grip Pull-ups (eccentric only) 4x4.  These I don't mind.  Except bless the pour soul who spots me to stop me from swaying.  My foot has been known to accidentally knock into the wrong place.

B2)Landmines 3x6. Old stuff.

C1) Hand switches for 20 seconds x 3.  These were new.  Brian coached me through those in his oh so special way.

C2) Forward sled push, 3 sets.  After doing these (and pairing them with the hand switched pretty much made me want to puke) I told Tony and Kevin, "I would rather push another baby out of my body then do the sled."  A woman would never lie about something like that.

D1) Birddogs 2 x8.  I haven't seen these for months.  

D2) Foot elevated Warrior stretch, 2 x 20 seconds each side.  I really like this stretch.

There you have it.  Day 1.  FP wants pictures of some of these things.  Working on that.  I will say this, I came home spent and it felt awesome.  

Can't wait to see what tomorrow holds.  

And wait until you hear about my new musical discovery.  I was so overcome with I don't even know what that I made Aquaman and two CP friends a cd that's how good they are.  Indie alternative rock at it's purest.  Be prepared to meet Land of Talk.

11:15, TB 3, BOS 1

11:15 p.m.

TB 3, BOS 1, bottom of the 8th.

This is the scene in my family room.  Just substitute a petite dark girl with short hair in hot pink monkey pajamas and an aging salt and pepper greyhound and you get the picture.

OMG, the damn dog just dropped a link on his dog bed.  Even I couldn't make this up! 

It's a sign.  Damn!

This fall baseball is killing me

It's almost 11:00 p.m., the kids are asleep as is Aquaman who is snoring next to me.  Some "real" baseball fan he is.

I read almost 12 blogs, about 6 daily.  I was recently reminded about remembering the lessons, gifts we get from family.  I inherited one from my mom that I wish had skipped a generation.

My mom, HUGE sports fan.  Especially baseball.  She grew up LISTENING to The Dodgers.  She was a die hard Red Sox fan.  Listened to sports radio, had a picture of Nomar on our refrigerator, went down to Florida for spring training.  Told me nicely to have Amelia before the Red Sox game started one sunny Sunday.  I am not joking.  Now, while I did not inherit her passion for baseball, I did get her "sports nerves."

When things were looking tense, my mom could not sit down.  She had to be doing something. She would pace back and forth.  Many times she would go into another room and scream to get updates.  I have spent the last 3 hours uploading photos, stalking Facebook, making multiple trips to the kitchen for diet coke, texting people, reading my new Allure.  All while laying in my bed watching the Sox in high def.  I cannot just watch.  I have been done this road too many times.  I am wound up.  So I figured I'd share my nerves.  

We are big Drew fans in this house for the obvious reason.  If he can pull this thing off like he did the other night, I will go out and buy Drew jerseys for the entire family.  OOh, an iPhone commercial!  I am so going to download new applications for mine.  More busywork!  Yes!

Happy Anniversary Fruity Pebbles!

Today marks the official one year anniversary of The Adventures of Raffi and Lilli, Cupcake and Snailster, Fruity Pebbles and Bam Bam or if you must be boring, Dawna and Steph.  We were supposed to go to the Jonatha Brooke concert tonight but it has been postponed so instead I will sit here and reminisce (and watch Grey's Anatomy which I know she's doing too.)

Fruity and I have been friends for years.  But friends in the sense of acquaintance.  We met through a mother's group and together decided to form The Moxie Mamas; moms who have spirit and courage in the face of adversity and who run.  Each time we hung out I always had a sneaking suspicion that there was more than met the eye.  I knew she was politically active (years ago we walked a remembrance walk for Boston youth who had been murdered on Mother's Day in Dorchester.)  Before the Rez car she had a Subaru with tons of bumper stickers.  I knew she liked to run.  And I knew that even though she was a wife (well, now an ex) and mother, that she was also her own person and didn't let those other hats she wore camouflage who she was.

Who knew that we would both have awakenings of our identity at the same time?  Some might have called it an early mid life crisis (well, maybe for her, we all know that I am only 27) but I look at it as an emancipation, rebirth, slapping of our souls.  We all know how incredibly challenging last fall and winter was for me.  It was for Fruity too.  On exactly this night one year ago, I had a sudden change of plans (and isn't it so true that one one door closes another one opens; just like Helen Keller said.)  I had tickets to go see The Smashing Pumpkins two nights in a row.  Aquaman and I went the first night.  I wasn't planning on using them the second night but found myself at 5:00 the day of the concert with 2 tickets.  I knew Fruity loved music and was open to anything and so called her.  She said "sure."  She couldn't even name one SP song!  That's why I love the girl!  We went and had a great time and expensive beer (should have been an omen FP) and on the way home had a conversation that set the seeds for the friendship/sisterhood that would bloom.   When you encounter people in your life that live in the moment, like to process, are genuine and I mean completely genuine, accept you for who you are and celebrate the eccentricities that make you you and would never think to try to change you, force you to look at things from multiple views and LIVE life you hang on to them for dear life.  Those people are few and far between and I feel blessed to have a few of them in my life.  Of course her love for music, margaritas, eating, dancing, sense of humor (I am sure that some, no many people would be completely disturbed and offended by our definition of funny.)  In so many ways she was my life preserver this past year.  A day doesn't go by that we don't email, text or call.  My family refers to her as Fruity and frequently ask about her.  Aquaman considers her his surrogate wife (I think she sometimes makes a better wife than me!)  Are things always cheery and sunny?  No.  Our friendship wouldn't be real if there wasn't some tension.  We disagree, roll our eyes, raise our voice, get irritated.  Just this week we were caught up in a game of verbal dodge ball.  I feel very protective of my close friends; I always feel the need to take care, make sure everyone is happy.  Can you blame me?  I am the oldest of three.  Sometimes my desire to play mama hen  and wrap my friends in bubble wrap interferes with what they actually need. 

I am so happy to say that both FP and I are in such a better place exactly one year later.  That crazy girl signed up to do The Hyannis Marathon in February.  February.  Dead of winter.  She doesn't even know this but Aquaman and I are planning our trip to Puerto Rico (adios Mexico-don't ask, long story that just proves that brunettes with really great highlights can be complete airheads too; who books plane tickets on the wrong dates??) so that I get back in time to drive down to Hyannis and be her support system.  I'm going to freeze my arse off!  I told him, "I can't let her do this without me.  I have to be there!"

So I hope that after reading this incredibly sappy reflection (I really, really need to stop listening to folk music and start listening to more gangsta rap) I hope that if there is someone in your life who "gets you" that you tell them how much you value them and appreciate every ounce of who they are.

YABBA YABBA DOO!

 

BAM BAM!!

BAM BAM!!

My new nickname has given me a new leash on life.  I am so buying a leopard thong, matching yarmukle (who knew The Rubbles were Jewish?) and wooden club this weekend.

First, am melancholy because the Jonatha Brooke concert was postponed until November.  But slightly relieved; I put in a 10 1/2 hour day at work today.  I am a zombie.  An angry zombie.  I've been bam bamming ever since I got home.

When my boy was a wee baby I always said, "It's going to suck when he's in fourth grade."  And I was right.

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a know it all.  I don't think my way is the only way.  I love nothing more than to visit other classrooms and learn new teaching strategies, to attend seminars, take courses (like the 3 hour one on guided reading I took today), reflect and revise my instruction.  I read books and articles.  I love to absorb, try things out.  Yes, I have my units of study but I would NEVER think of just xeroxing the material and handing it out.  Each year I look at my class, their abilities, interests and re-write the damn unit so that it meets their needs, not some "general population."  We practice, practice something before I send it home for independent practice.  I am the process teacher.  We brainstorm, talk, share, revise.  One of my biggest faults, but also that one that makes me me, is that I get so caught up in the moment and get so excited that I make some things over the top and create extra work.  But I am not scared of hard work.  It's more of a time issue. Take this insect fair in 2 weeks.  The other classes are doing a choral reading of a poem.  Today while sharing our insect creations I got this "great idea" to write a play, a play people instead of reciting the poem.  What was I thinking? When are we going to have time to write a play?  But you know it will be so good.

My point?  I do have one.  My point is that when you are the mother of a child whose learning style is unique and you as a teacher tend to do really well with those kinds of kids and you find yourself doing all the work for your kid that should have been done by his teachers, you become a little agitated.  No, you become greatly agitated.    Especially after re-teaching something to your kid, he says to you, "Boy mom, you sure know how to explain that in an easy way."

BAM BAM you're right!  

Nighty night (should probably focus all of my attention on the debate.  BTW, Mass voters, vote no on 1 or Bam Bam could lose her job.)

The Smelltrack to my day

You know me, I'm the music lover.  I always think in terms of music; Fruity and I always talk about the music we want in our movie.  The soundtrack to our lives.  

Well, this is the smelltrack of my day.

I have a dog.  Truth be told, he's Aquaman's dog.  Goes to work with him every day.  Idolizes the man.  Totally hates me.  The feeling is reciprocal.  I discuss sending him to the glue factory when his protector is not around.

Ike is a greyhound.  We rescued him.  He's old.  And he has a farting problem.  A big farting problem.

I had one of those days that never seemed to end.  But it began and ended with Ike's smelly gas.  At 4:45 this morning I was awakened by a vacuum cleaner because Aquaman was cleaning up the "sausage links" that Ike left for him during the night.  I yelled, "Buy the damn dog some Depends." 

Work was long.  One of the things I love about my job is that I get to play teacher, mother, listener, nurse, guidance counselor, mediator, everything to my kids.  Today I was put to the test and wore every hat you could think of.   I wiped tears, gave advice, listened, handed out band aids, taught the difference between insect mimicry and camouflage, handed out snacks etc, etc.  I had not one second to spare.  I raced home to play mom and wife and chef.  Drove out to Hudson to train and listened to very amusing tales about constipation and got to see EC roll around on the turf.  Why don't I ever get to do fun stuff like roll around on the turf? And I can now confirm that I totally suck at the side plank wall leg raise thingies.  

I came home to help with baths, homework, eat dinner and pick up the house so that the cleaning people can actually clean.  I know, woe is me, my life is so hard that I actually have to clean for the cleaning people.  Whatever.  Aquaman and I are going over the schedule for tomorrow.  I have class tomorrow after school and won't be home until 7:00.  This means I have to wake up early tomorrow and hit the treadmill.  As we are discussing our over-scheduled lives, our offspring are running around whacking each other with plastic golf clubs they haven't played with in over 5 years.  I'm in a fowl mood because I'm tired and tomorrow will be another long day, Aquaman is upset because he has h.w. duty by himself and has to wait to work out until I get home, the kids are screaming and just when I don't think there could be any more chaos...

Ike farts the fart of his life.  This thing brought us all to tears.  Amelia went to her doctor's kit and got out her surgical mask.  Drew was looking for his inhaler.  I'm looking for the nearest can of Febreeze (I accidentally pick up the "Holiday Cookies" scent and Amelia yells, "Not that one Mom, it's special edition."  She's got this weird Febreeze addiction.)  I look at the dog who is looking at us like nothing has happened.  The sneaky canine; he had this all planned.

So my morning began and ended with thing that came out of my dog's butt.  As the great eighties synthesizer king Howard Jones said, "Things can only get better."  Oh man, now that song will be stuck in my cabeza.  

Please help me!!

Who is the Chicken Chick to the left?

I'm pretty good with completely useless things to know (I mean come on, I can name the entire Jolie-Pitt clan and TomKat's kitties.)  If a song, book or movie comes up in conversation and I can't remember it, I will go home and Google or Wiki it instantly.  But this one, this one has had me stumped for almost two weeks now.

One of Aquaman's earliest nicknames for me is Hamburglar because of a dress I wore oh, 20 years ago.  So I know Hamburglar.  Everyone knows Ronald and Grimace.  But who is the chick?  Seriously, is she a chick?  That is so wrong because McDonald's does serve chicken nuggets.  That would be too cruel.  Help me out here; who is this goggle wearing piece of poultry?  I must know.

Training went well today.  Lots of upper body with just a couple lower body things.  I have a feeling the psoas lying march with band (I think I actually got that one right) will continue to be a staple in my programs.  It actually felt really good.  People were really nice and positive about my race yesterday.  Got a high five from the only other client funnier than Michelle or I.  I even got offered a sweaty hug but nicely refused.  Then I got this while warming up with back lunges.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Because I'm a little tight.  I had my half marathon yesterday."

"Was it a real one?"

"No, it was a fake one.  You know me, I only do fake races."

Oh Brian, I think all that half green half white tea is going to your head. And I'd like to thank Intern #3 who is really not an intern but thinks he's one (let's guess who it is) for telling me to find a lower box for my one leg squats because the bench looked, "way too easy." Scary thing is, he was right.  As I left I told EC that my schedule would pretty much be M,T and Saturday and to plan on that when writing my new program.  I also told him, "I want you to kill me over the next 8 weeks in here."  That was greeted by an enthusiastic, "OKAY!"

Let the fun begin.

And please, if you know the mystery chicken in the McDonald's gang, let me know.  I haven't been this obsessed when I couldn't remember who said, "Pork chops and applesauce."  Remember that one UR chicks?  Oh crud, who was that?  Peter Brady?

Crud?  Today Amelia asked what crud meant and her Mensa worthy brother gave her this explanation.  "Crud is the appropriate word for crap."  I yell, "Drew" in the angriest Mom voice I have while trying not to crack up.  His sister?  Completely loses it.  There is nothing sweeter than to hear my girl giggle her heart out.  But her brother is so busted over that one.

Blood, salt and FINALLY NO TEARS!

I lay here on my stomach with Aquaman's heel digging into my left glute.  In 5 minutes I will sit up and stretch my left leg across my body to be followed by me digging Amelia's Bratz Genie Magic Eight Ball into my left glute.  Fruity's arse hurts too-she just texted me with that update. Other than that, I feel great.  

For once, I ran the most even race I am capable of.  I'd tell you my splits but my Garmin turned off at mile 7 so have no idea.  I was averaging 9:05 or so for the first 3-5 miles and knew I had to slow down so did.  During my half arse training I had run 9 miles in 1:40.  Slow.  I finished 13.1 in 2:03:31.  I am pretty psyched about today.  I pretty much placed right in the middle for my gender and age group.  I am thrilled to be so average.  And I am dead serious about that!

Look how happy we were after the race and no I did not wear my sunglasses when running.  

It was a beautiful day for a race and a beautiful course although a little bit more hilly than I expected it to be.  I was reminded today of how huge the mental piece plays in running.  At mile 3 I was like, "This sucks, I want to quit."  And then of course I got my mind together and things just started clicking.  Two moms from my school, one whose son is in my class, ran it and approached me on the course to say hi.  I was so thrilled!  One of them just had a baby less than 6 months ago.  She has 5 kids.  I yelled to her, "You are my hero!"  I can't stand it when people make excuses for not exercising.  If you don't WANT to fine.  But don't make "excuses" and blame it on your schedule.  You just need to think out of the box.

I actually think I ran my best miles from 7-11 which really pleased me.  I was just in a groove and those miles flew by.  Fruity did well too and for once, did not cry at the end!  But when I found her (45 minutes later; long and stupid story) she had a band aid on her leg from bleeding. Now that's a runner!

Cookie Monster came to see us and after the race asked me, "Who was that girl who tried to hug you at the finish?"  I said, "WHAT??"  He replied, "Some girl tried to hug you and you raised your hand at her like get away!"  People, I have no recollection of this at all!  And what stupid girl would pick the one anti-hugger out of 5,000 people to hug?

FP and I treated ourselves to a North End lunch afterwards where we processed the race and how good we felt.  We also kept wiping the salt of our bodies.  Part of me just wanted to sprinkle it on my lunch!  Fruity shared with me how she was singing angry Janet Jackson songs while running.  I have got to see this with my own eyes.

My family took me out for a celebratory dinner.  Throughout the entire race I was craving a buffalo turkey burger (no bun; even Aquaman no longer eat his bun) with sweet potato fries(I don't eat fries except sweet potato and the sour cream and onion ones-OMG, am totally craving those now) and a Pumpkin Pie Ale from my favorite Brew Pub in Waltham so that's exactly what we did.  I am content, sleepy and ready to just lay in bed and watch The Pats.

I'm taking the week off from running this week and will bike and walk instead.  And big surprise here, I'm training at CP tomorrow.  My schedule this week is crazier than usual so I must if I want to get 3 sessions in.  Plus, I always find that after I train after long runs, it totally loosens me up.  Thursday night is the Jonatha Brooke concert.  "All I want to do is touch you, touch you...."  Think she sings one with these lyrics, "All I want to do is ice and rub your left glute........"

They ARE my children!

First, a HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to my friends Sarah and Janette who today qualified for Boston by running the Hartford Marathon with 52 and 53 seconds to spare.  I think that is my favorite part; I can only imagine what those last few minutes were like and can not wait to hear the details.

So, my two don't look anything alike huh?

Today confirmed that despite signs of their father, they truly are my children.  These two had the cosmetic department at Saks in their hands today.  It was honestly one of my proudest moments as their mother.

We had to go into Boston to pick up my and FP's number for our half marathon tomorrow.  After a shaky start, "if you two don't stop fighting I'm going to pull over to the side of the road and see how long it takes you to walk back to Wayland" we settled down as we walked around The Fenway.  It was a beautiful day.  After picking up our numbers we then proceeded to Newbury Street.  I spot a parking space on Boylston and in an Evil Kaneivel move, crossed 3 lanes of traffic to get it. Even better?  The meter was broken!  My two wanted to take a picture of our good luck.  We headed to Newbury Comics to buy more Bakugan? (these weird little toys with cards that are the OBSESSION right now.  NC is the only place we can find them; and only the Boston locations.)  We got lunch at The Cactus Club.  Everyone is so happy.  Then I tell them we have to go to Sax; I need foundation and perfume.  Saks is the only store that carries my brands.  Big frowns on their faces.  Even a pout. I then say my offer to walk back to Wayland still stands and presto, "I love shopping for make up."

First stop Giorgio Armani.  I have never tried their foundation but have heard raves about it.  We are immediately swarmed upon by 3 associates, one being the requisite impeccably dressed gay guy.  They start with my face while the other two play Super Nanny to my two.  My mini-me wins them over with her non-stop talking and before I know it she's in a chair getting a Hannah Montana makeover.  Her brother is trying not to puke in the trash basket.  Note about the foundation; beyond glowing.  In fact after the requisite pre-race mani/pedi today I got my wax and my wax lady asked me, "What foundation do you have on?  Your skin looks stunning."  Big tip for wax lady.  Seriously, I might even look 26 1/2 when wearing this!

Then we head to fragrance where my friend from last time, remember him Fruity, remembers me and comes over with a big smile.  I tell him what I'm looking for.  Then begins the fragrance fun.

I'm looking for more of a fall/winter scent(go ahead and laugh all you want but every associate there agreed with me-ha!).  I only wear the brand Bond No.5.  Not because oh it's so cool but because I have done my research and it is made with the finest ingredients and each scent is made with a NYC neighborhood in mind.  I love things that have a story; I think they are more meaningful somehow.  I found Bond because of reviews I had read about Chinatown.  Everyone raves about Chinatown.  Every time I try it, it just doesn't work with my skin.  So today we begin with 4 different scents.  I feel life a fragrance slut; there are foreign scents all over my body.  Even the two associates are getting confused.  We narrow it down to Bleeker Street and strangely Chinatown which for some reason is working today.  But no one can decide which one.  I do not need wishy washiness about perfume.  Enter the next Marc Jacobs and Coco Chanel.

MJ: Let me help.

S: You hate perfume.

MJ: But I can smell good!

CC: Just don't spit on her when you do.

They both smell.  They can't decide.  The following almost kills me.

CC:  Mister, can we have the coffee beans to cleanse our noses?  (This wins everyone within hearing distance over.)  Mister brings over coffee beans.

MJ:  Well, it's close but definitely Chinatown; it's more spicy and you are Mexican.

CC:  Do you have a Tacotown?

At that point I think the adoption papers are being processed to adopt my two.  They each get a bag full of samples (what they are going to do with those is beyond me) and promise to come back at Christmas.  Who are these two?

But they were right.  Tonight Aquaman said, "You smell really good.  Is that new perfume?"  "Yeah Dad, it's called Kung Pao Chicken."

See, they really are my kids.  Great taste, sarcasm and humor.  

So tomorrow is my half marathon.  I have never trained for a half before, my half marathons have always been part of my marathon training program.  I have three goals; 2:00, 2:05 and 2:10.  If I come in any later than the last one, I'm going to have FP blast her 9 minute version of George Michael's I Want Your Sex while she runs me over with the Rez Car.  I just want an even race.  The fastest pace I've run in a half is 8:22.  That is not happening tomorrow and that is totally okay with me.  We all run for different reasons and have different goals.  Mine over time have changed due to desires and life constraints.  And maybe fears.  And it kills me that I sometimes feel like a couch potato because I can't put in the mileage that I used to before I went back to work.  Wake up call Steph; I run 3x a week and work with a team of really strong guys with questionable humor and get encouragement in all different forms; "That a girl Steph, those aren't looking half bad and my favorite,  that totally sucked."  Guess who said each one? Many times am the only girl there,  I do trapbar dead lifts at 175 (and I think I can go up on that-yes!) and do slide planks with chains and stick my butt out for all to see with a weighted bar on my back while doing Good Mornings which in my opinion is like the most stupid thing ever.  Ever!  All I ever hear is, "stick that butt out Steph."  Sorry, digression there.  Point is, I am not a "professional athlete" or "Olympic hopeful"-well, I hope one day to go to the Olympics as a spectator, does that count?  I am a full time working mom, wife, sister, friend to many who enjoys getting strong and running and not getting injured.  And having balance in my life.  

So tomorrow I run for all those Wonder Women out there who will have had to make sure they have child care, will be mentally doing their grocery list during the run and will have to go home after the race to play Mommy, wife and friend.  The ones who wake up at 5:00 in the morning to squeeze their runs in before making lunches and going to work.  

And the ones whose favorite part of the day won't be crossing the finish line or getting the medal or shirt but getting the hug when they return home and hear their children proudly say, "My mom just ran a half marathon."  That is worth it all.

Can you guess what I've decided about Boston 2009?

Frooty's Friday

It's 8:00 on a Friday night and I, Social Steph, am comfy in my Goonies nightgown blogging in bed.  Aquaman is drooling next to me, my Mini-Me watching t.v. next to me and my firstborn watching Clone Wars in the family room.  Wow!  Such a picture of domestic bliss.  Why?

Because I've been up since 4:45 and didn't leave work until 4:30 and didn't get home until 7:15.

A look at my day.

4:45-Aquaman wakes me up so I can run my last two miler before Sunday's race.

5:05-I actually get out of bed.

5:15-Am on the treadmill pounding out my two miles.  Wow, 2 whole miles!  I listened to the new mix I made Cressey which I titled, "You need new music Cressey."  Think lots of heavy rap, classic rock and alternative.  Nothing like DMX in the morning!

5:35-in kitchen drinking my watermelon Cytofuse thinking to myself, one should really not be drinking Cytofuse at 5:30 in the morning but since I am it's a good thing it tastes so freakin good!  I realize that my training schedule this week was not optimal in any way but as I told EC life happens.  He told me to take a day off and spend it on massage.  Marchese and Morgan can't see me until the end of the month.  That was poor planning on my part.  Won't happen again.

5:40-check email

5:50-make my protein shake for breakfast (am thinking one should really not have Cytofuse AND a protein shake before 6:00 a.m. but oh well.)

6:00-make lunches for everyone, get in shower, get ready.

7:00-leave house, go to Starbucks, sing Jonatha, Ryan M and Adele all the way to work and get weird looks from uptight looking women in their cars and waves and thumbs up from much more relaxed looking men in their cars.

8:00-prepare class for my 23 little ducklings.

8:20-4:30, teach math, keyboarding, reading and science, have parent meeting, plan, xerox, correct.  Oh I'm tired just thinking about it.

5:00-meet the fam at PF Changs for dinner followed by some cosmetic shopping at Neimans. Even in times of stress, one must not forget the important things in life.

And now I am home.  Totally exhausted and looking forward to passing out soon.  

But first I must brag.

The Smashing Pumpkins, one of my favorite bands.  Saw them twice last year.  FP went with me to one show.  In fact, it's been almost exactly one year.  Time out for reflective moment.  Okay, I'm back.  Billy Coorigan; I LOVE HIM.  I have a thing for pasty white bald guys who sing, play the guitar, write music and poetry, tango with the darkness in life and are passionate.  You think Mr. Darcy played the guitar?

I love this picture.

Aquaman and I are taking Drew and his friend and his dad to The 20th Anniversary Tour next month.  My boy's first concert will be The Pumpkins!  Yes, I get coolest mom ever award for that one.

So, Friday afternoons in my class are musical.  We play music (they talked me into playing Coldplay once) and I have kids who want to share their "musical intelligence" bring in an instrument and play.   Today a girl brought in her guitar.  She's really an amazing kid; a runner and photographer too.  I'm thinking she's going to play a nursery rhyme or something.  The following took place:

"The first song I'm going to play is a song called Disarm by The Smashing Pumpkins."

Teacher starts screaming and jumping up and down, "I love The Smashing Pumpkins."  Kids in class think teacher might start foaming at the mouth.

And then she plays the you know what out of that song.  I'm standing there in complete shock.

Then from the audience.

"Do you know Cherub Rock?"

AHHH!  My kids know SP songs?  Seriously, I start hyperventilating.  She says no but I'm going to play some Gavin DeGraw and starts playing "I'm in love with a girl."  Teacher begins rolling on ground because she loves that song.

How cool is that?  One of my students played a Smashing Pumpkins song in class.  Of course I had to ask, "Do you know any Lori McKenna?"

Where are my Wonder Woman boots?

First, look how happy and relaxed I looked just two nights ago (and FP can you believe that one week from tonight we will be at Jonatha?  She better sing Because I Told You So and This Is All?  I will blog pre-concert.  She so deserves one.)

There I am with The Cereal Girls (and my new name is now Bam Bam; my kids go WILD every time they see the Fruity Pebbles commercial and Bam Bam comes on with his leopard thong like outfit and starts destroying everything with his bat.  Drew said, "That is just like you mom; you come in and take control of everything.)   Darn right firstborn; what else would you expect from a self proclaimed mother hen?  And no that growler of beer is not mine; another member of my group took it home.  As always, we talked deep, laughed, drank and banged heads. Literally.

Fast forward to tonight.  In the past 24 hours, due to the I work full time, have two kids, a husband and a dog circumstances, I have lifted twice, run and it looks like now I'll be running tomorrow morning before work and then lifting after. (UPDATE-new plan, no lift tomorrow; EC is so getting a big Christmas gift this year for this one; perhaps a personalized foam roller) I had a conversation with FP about BALANCING my personal life, work and training.  It really is all about balance. I need to focus my energy on my race on Sunday.  This shirt better be good because all of my running buddies know, I run for the shirt and only the shirt. I could really use Wonder Woman's boots right now to give me that extra boost I need. 

Oh, those are so Spice World Tour circa early nineties; they are simply fabulous!  I had a long talk with my coaching staff the past 2 days (kind of funny; I have a staff!)  and am pretty sure of what my future holds as a marathoner.  I honestly have never been so wishy washy and I hate wishy washy about something in a long time.  Yeah, I might quiver about things in my life but it's always within a reasonable range.  This one has been at polar extremes.  No middle ground.  I spent a long time at CP today and my program wasn't that long since my half marathon is a few days away.  Let me just say this though; the side plank wall things I did tonight SUCK!  Totally new, when Brian showed me how to do them, I thought, these look cool.  Stupid Girl Steph.  So hard (well on one side they were really hard.)  I am now determined to get these down.  I'm not sure what I did but I walked around a lot talking to everyone (OMG, I'm turning into Omri).  There are some really special quotes that I would love to share but this is a PG-13, well maybe sometimes R blog and these are so not PG-13.  I will say this; people from Maine can be funny.

Though I am tired; I am also feeling warm and fuzzy.  I made something for 4 different friends and have so far sent two of them.  This is my first collective cupcake surprise.  The first one was well received and it made my night when I got the thank you.  Honestly, how long does it take to create a small gesture?  And go to the post office?  I've said it 1,000 times and I'll say it 1,000 more times; I love taking care of the people in my life.  Perhaps sometimes it is out of my pain, but most of the time it's because everyone deserves to be thought of.  Period.  And I love buying things too!

I'm also worried about some of my friends.  It's like all of a sudden people are overworked, stressed, struggling with past demons, future demons, questioning physical, emotional and psychological abilities.  Damn, that's my life.  Maybe I should be worrying about me??  In fact I need to go because I just got 3 texts in 5 minutes and I need to show up.  Because I think the most important thing that we as friends can do for one another is simply that; show up.

And there's a new man in my life.

Amos.

Amos Lee.  I would go into the countless ways he stirs my soul and I feel dizzy when I hear him but I need to go show up.  

Short but sweet

Okay, I started this last night then fell asleep only to wake up this morning one hour late.  One hour.  One hour.  Best part; people at school were like, "your hair looks great."  I gave new meaning to the term bed head.  

Short but sweet.  That pretty much sums me up.  Ha, ha.

I swear, I ALWAYS crack myself up.  Always.  Coach Green Tea Brian is always amazed at how much I do crack myself up (which totally cracks him up.)  If you can't laugh at yourself, then what's the point?

Okay it's now Monday night and I really do need to go to bed; I have to wake up at 5:00 to run before work because tomorrow I must be the parent and attend Back to School Night and then am meeting FP and Guinness for a Tuesday night meeting of the cereal girls at John Harvards.  FP and I ran 6 together yesterday and it was a great run for me.  I felt strong and some of my speed came back.  Still not sure about what Sunday will bring but for someone who crammed 12 weeks of training into 5, I can't complain.  And let's get this clear.  I was not sitting on my arse eating bon bons.  I simply was not running the "prescribed mileage."  

On Saturday She-Ra brought me this c.d.  Even Pete, a huge Ryan M fan didn't have it.  And thanks Pete for lending me all of your other c.d.s

This people, is one of the best c.d.s I have ever listened to.  Ever.  I rarely buy an entire c.d.  I am very picky.  My favorite ever we all know is In Rainbows by Radiohead.  This is my second. It's all live songs from different places in Boston.  And it rocks.  She-Ra and I have always said we love Ryan acoustic the most and Pete is always saying, keep listening.  For once, Pete actually knows what he's talking about.  The band brings the house down on this one.  I listened to it all weekend with my new get out of my face bass thumpin headphones and was rocking out.  Folding laundry I was dancing around my bedroom.  Paying the bills I was rocking my head and writing out checks.  This concert is going to rock.  I think I'm going to take FP AND King Broccoli.  FP because the girl can dance and The Jolly Green Giant because, well, there are just so many reasons he must come with his two foul mouthed, tattoo, tequila loving clients.  There's a whole crew from CP going.  Hell, I might even take the King of Mobility himself and see if any of that stuff he preaches on his dvd translates into Magnificent Moves on the dance floor.   Now that would be the Christmas Miracle.  He better not bring his foam roller...........................

Now that was funny! 

(I have no idea why this is centered but just work with me here.)

Well, I'm in a Cupcake mode again and just made something for 4 people, but one has to get out tomorrow so she can get it in time for her little 26.2 race this Saturday.  

Adios.

(This center thing is kind of growing on me.  Maybe because in real life I am so not centered.)

Lesson of the day kids; "Never break up with another person over a text message."

Oh, I had one of those days.  Honestly, I learn more from the kids in my class than I thought possible.  This one had me in stitches.

But first.

Read Tony's latest blog(on BostonHerald.com)  on girls who actually lift more than 3 pounds.  He had told me about it earlier this week and it is a gem.  It's nice to see other members of The V Club highlighted (though he did forget Catherine, fellow lover of Lori McKenna) along with the women who actually do this athlete thing for a living, the ones who want to break records, gain titles etc.   I had no idea that one of them was a competitive track athlete and am now  so relieved that when I met her for the first time this week (when she was eating one of my now infamous K Bars) that my cooking didn't kill her.  I have already killed 3 caterpillars, one cockroach and 4 crickets in my classroom this week.  The last thing I need is to be accused of killing a fellow Cressey client.  And by the way, the K bars, although a little smushy, totally rocked!  But honestly, I can't stand it when I read articles about how women shouldn't lift heavy weights.  I'll admit, it took me awhile to get off the cardio, cardio mentality but look at me now; I lift 3 times a week.  I feel strong  and I am getting stronger.  The other day EC commented twice on how much stronger and less whiny I am.  We called it The Rosh Hoshanah Miracle!  I'm thinking of dedicating one blog a week or so to high and low lights of my training.  Like, I love to back squat.  I hate plate switches.  I love trap bar dead lifts.  I hate box squats.  Isn't a weighted vest AND weights a little excessive for step ups for a midget like me?  Ooh, and I'll take pictures to make this come alive; Pete eating his bananas, Tony eating his same damn dish with guacamole, Pete eating his string cheese, Brian walking around with his green tea, Pete eating his cupcakes, Eric walking around in his flip flops  with the bat saying, "What's up?" to everyone who walks through the door, Pete eating his salads, Omri walking around doing nothing with his can of Spike.........this thing is going to be award winning.  

Fashion observation of the day?

I look like Nancy Drew, virginal yet seductive super sleuth.

I caught one of my girls staring at me today so I finally asked if I had oh, say a dead cockroach on my head?  I got this.  "Your hair is different.  It's longer than before.  Less layered.  The color looks good.  You look like Nancy Drew."

I love Nancy!  But I love The Hardy Boys more.  Maybe I can finally get lucky with Shaun Cassidy.

So I try to keep my kids up to date with current events, especially with the election (watching the debate right now; this is scarier than when Rob Lowe hosted The Oscars.)  We subscribe to Time for Kids.  We are reading an opinion piece on texting and kids.  We discuss the highlights of the article and the pros and cons of texting.  When it is appropriate to text and when it's not.  If Grandma sends you a gift, write a thank you note, don't text.  If the dog dies, call family, don't text.  You know, basic stuff.  Then comes this. 

Girl student: "And never break up with your boyfriend or girlfriend over a text message."

Teacher: "Actually, that happened to one of my friends.  Isn't that horrible?"

All girls nod.

Boy student: "Yeah but then if you don't, you have to deal with the tears and the drama and the crying and the "oh please don't break up with me."

Another boy student interjects: "That's so bad; and what if she has a unibrow?"

Okay, as a teacher I hear a lot that I ignore.  But this comment killed me.  We had like 5 minutes of school left.  And the boy who said it is one of the nicest, most polite just great kids.  Everyone is looking at me for my reaction and I completely crack up at which then the rest of my class is howling.  I walk by his desk, pat his back and say, "Oh sweetie, we have so much to work on this year."

When I told Aquaman this story he said, "Now that is one smart kid."

Men.

My army of mini me's

We all know that I am a giver and not a receiver, in fact sometimes find discomfort having to do the latter.  But I am truly blessed (thanks to Cujo of reminding me of that word in her way too lovey dovey she's one pair of Birkenstoks away from a hippie commune text this morning to which I immediately responded with an only Steph could ruin the love moment with such a snide and sultry remark.  And what was up with all the texts in the past 2 days; I almost felt important!) to have people in my life who are such great givers.  Two of the gifts were completely unique with reflective thought behind their intention (and you know me, I could care less what the gift is; it's the reasoning, the thought, the planning that goes behind it that is the real gift) and strangely though given to me by two different people, completely complimented each other.  These two get that music is what holds me together.   That one made me think over my Venti this morning.  And the third, which was given to me this morning:

A pure orgy for the mouth.

I am a self proclaimed cupcake horror. And these are the best cupcakes that have ever passed these lips.  No joke.

They are from Sugar and that chocolate one in the lower right hand corner was SINFUL.  

MT; I love you!  (But not as much as I love you FP; and I am getting slightly concerned that you and Aquaman communicate more than the two of us; I hear you made plans without moi?)

Remember Austin P and his Mini Me?

Well, it looks like I may have an army of them building.  

We all know that I jokingly refer to myself as the Angelina Jolie of the fourth grade because I tend to wear black a lot.  I also make an effort to dress, I don't know, stylish?  Nah, that's not right.  I see clothes as an expression of your mood.  One day I may wear a BCBG Max Azaria dress, another day camouflage pants from the Gap and end it with Joe's Jeans.  I am not a label slave.  Take my outfit yesterday.  An Ellie Tahari mini, mini jean skirt, a tee shirt from Old Navy that cost me $3, a Banana Republic black cotton cardigan, a black Lucky scarf and Steve Madden black wedge boots.  Even my real mini-me was like, "Way to rock it Mom."  I like what I wear to reflect my mood.  Period.  I may get it on clearance at TJ Maxx or I may pay full price at Neiman's.  Doesn't matter where I get it; what matters is that it says Steph.

I have a thing for scarves.  I like to tie them in different ways.  Last week I wore a great metallic scarf tied backwards behind me.  The woman at Nordstroms showed me.  A lot of people at work complimented on how cool it looked.  I thought nothing of it.  Until this week, many of the girls in my class came in wearing scarves the same way.  

I kid you not.

Then I start noticing how many of them are wearing black.   A lot of black.  Today in fact, one of them said to me, "I'm following you and wearing black all of the time." 

Then came the stainless steel coffee mugs.  Mine?  Has coffee in it.  Theirs?  No coffee.  So one of the boys today said, "I think they're trying to copy you.  Don't worry, I won't!"

I am sincerely flattered but also flabbergasted.  What do I do?  Do I say anything?  I guess I'll only really get concerned when they chop off the hair and start singing Lori McKenna.

Speaking of Lori, I bought tickets to her acoustic show in December.  Just her.  I have goosebumps just writing that.  I had also said earlier that I need to expand my horizons so bought tickets to go see The Communist Vampire Musical at the ART in November.  I love the theater (oh that sounded so Julie Andrews) and secretly hope that this world premiere is dripping with thick accents, dark humor and melodrama.  That would be so perfect!  And let's not forget Ryan M in December too.  This month brings me Johnatha Brooke and Broken Social Scene.  OMG, Aquaman is about to eat the carrot cake cupcake.  He is so sleeping with the dog tonight..........