Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween!

Halloween can be frightful, right?

I just graded Exam #4 for my weekday class.  We covered Muscle and Nerve, and those are two very tough topics.  Knowing that, I allowed my students to bring in a cheat sheet.

The mean is a 65%, with the following breakdown (the number is the number of students who received that grade):
90-100%:  2
80-89%:  4
70-79%: 3
60-69%: 9
Below 60%: 7
I asked the students to report on their exam whether or not they'd used a cheat sheet.  One person received a 28% and didn't use a cheat sheet.  I hate to be crass, but I don't think a cheat sheet would even have helped this poor soul. 

Frightful, indeed.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

New Friends

Aaron had a friend over yesterday afternoon.  His mom and sister came with him, since this child hasn't had too many play-dates with other kids.  I can't stand that term, play-date, but since it is now in use and fits the sentence, we are going with it.  Anyway, this child that came to play happens to be a very special child.  Even if I didn't know that, I would have known the minute he walked in.

Me:  What do you have there?
Him:  I brought my elements book and one on the Middle Ages.
Me:  So cool.  Aaron and the girls would like both of these.
His mom:  [She smiles.] He really wanted to bring his math dictionary, but we couldn't find it.
Me:  [I smile.]  Maybe next time.

Match made in heaven, these two!

Monday, October 29, 2012

Saturday Scenes

Last year, some of the things that occurred in the 4th grade trumped anything that happened at my school.  Apparently this year, things are different.  I must be reasonably happy with the 5th and 2nd grade teachers, because I haven't posted any whiny complaints here about them.  On the other hand, my classes are so rife with tension, conflict, and apathy, that the 2nd and 5th grade never really stood a chance.

Two Saturdays ago, I walked into class, prepared to give Exam 3.  I waited for the students to trickle in, and noticed that 3 of them were missing.  This is a class of 15 students; you know when 3 aren't there.  I waited for a few minutes and then went ahead and started the exam.

All last week, I checked my email and had nothing from the three students.

This past Saturday, I walked in the door and was accosted the minute I unlocked the door.

 Student #1 (S1):  I need to go.  I've had some really weird things going on at home.  I tried to email you about the test last week, but I didn't have many bars. I was in the hospital with my grandfather, who had 3 heart attacks in a row.  Now, my aunt needs help.  I'll be back Wednesday.
Me, inside my head: And you couldn't think to check on that email?  See if it ever got sent?  Have a message put in my box?
Me, to the student:  I am sorry about your situation.  I do allow 1 makeup exam, so you can take it next week.  But since we have Exam 4 scheduled for that day, you will be taking 2 exams.
S1:  That's fine.  Thanks.  I gotta go.
Me:  [I shake my head.]  Hmmm...
Student #2 (S2):  I wasn't here last week, either.
Me:  I know.  What happened?  
S2:  I couldn't get a ride.
Me, inside my head: Okay, I can appreciate that, but WTH?  An email?  A phone call?  Something to let me know you care?
Me, to the student:  I do understand that, but I expect you to let me know as soon as that happens.  You need to tell me that you won't be able to be here.  I'm sure you overheard me talking to can make up the exam this one time.  But you'll be taking two tests next week.
Student #3 (S3):  By the way Christina, I am staying to make up that exam this week, right?
Me, inside my head:  This sounds familiar...we talked about this, but I remember asking her to email me a confirmation.  But I'm done.  Just done.
Me, to the student:  That's fine.
S3:  Thank you.
Me, inside my head:  She can't send an email, but at least she has manners.
Lest you think I am a pushover, I really do have a 1 more chance and you are out policy.  This stems mostly from the fact that I teach at a community college.  Community college students have lives, unlike University students, and I find that I need to be more accommodating.  However, it's a fine line between accommodating and letting someone walk all over you.  I plan on staying on the right side of the line there.

My only question is this:  society is so plugged into technology at all times, so why, oh why can't someone send a simple, stinking, email to their instructor?  Just asking.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Bad Catholic

While it isn't just a Catholic thing, keeping holy the Sabbath is amongst the list of things I don't do.  I guess you can call me a bad Catholic.  Go ahead and do won't bother me. 

Why don't we keep it holy and why won't it bother me?  Because Sunday is the day I get many things done.  Just today, we (as a family, so at least there was some quality time involved) cleaned the lower level of the house, made cookies for a party, and started on the laundry.  We read a couple of chapters out of a novel and got the backyard raked and somewhat ready for the winter.

In conjunction with my last post, if I can get all of this done on a Sunday perhaps the rest of my week will progress nicely.

Hope you all had a great weekend.

P.S.  Who's betting I can't keep my mouth shut for all of November?  I'm betting against myself at this point. 

Saturday, October 27, 2012


Wake-up time comes too soon these days. Lucy the cat or some other noise will wake me.  Sometimes, Tim has fallen asleep on the couch, and the creak of the floorboards as he ascends the stairs at 4 am rouses me from my slumber.  It takes all I have to go back to sleep, and oftentimes, it just doesn't happen.  I lie there with my eyes open until I decide to tiptoe out of bed.

Usually, I quickly get dressed, put some dishes away and power up the computer.  I find that those early morning minutes are great for writing, especially if I have my warm cup of coffee in hand.  Of course, I've been pouring a bit more regular coffee into my decaf/regular concoction.  I guess at least it isn't rum.

The early morning wake-up has been affecting my mood, though.  Simply put, I am tired.  By the end of the day, I am especially feeling the effects of the fatigue.  I get crabby and irritable, and combined with the hormonal shifts that are now occuring (yes, I think I am officially perimenopausal), I don't much like who I am.  I told Tim the other day that I need to be fixed.  (And I don't mean that I need to be spayed, although that wouldn't be a bad idea.  The OB informed me at my checkup that now is the time they see oopsie babies.  As much as I like kids, I don't want to be one of those persons.)  Something within me needs to be fixed.

The problem is, how to fix myself?  I'm not sure, since I am not truly certain what is broken.  Apart from taking some time away from everyone, which just isn't feasible, I have no good ideas.  I guess I could try to minimize my stress level, but right now, that isn't going to happen either.  I have a lot on my plate, and until the semester ends, I am stuck with it.  But the stress gets to me on a daily basis.  I can feel it in my hands that shake from time to time, my stomach that churns, and especially in the irritability that seems to compound with the number of events scheduled for the week.  The casual observer wouldn't know it; even a good friend might not see it.  I get to work on time, I do my job relatively well, and I manage to get everything done at home that needs to be done.  Kids get to activities, dinner gets on the table, the house is relatively clean, and other odds and ends are mostly tied up.  I guess you can say that I get it mostly done, but it (whatever it is) certainly wasn't enjoyable along the way.

And there lies the key to my fixing, I think.  If I can figure out why life doesn't cause me as much joy anymore, then perhaps I can get at the heart of the matter.  Is it hormonal changes?  Is it SAD?  Is it depression?  It could be any and all of the above, and to be honest, that scares me. 

Friday, October 26, 2012


Melina likes to have Tim make up stories for her.  She asks him to tell her a story and use his hands as a book.  He is supposed to place his hands palms up, next to each other, and then mimic the opening and closing of a book while he spouts a story of her choosing.  I think the story is usually some variation of a Scooby-Doo tale.

Well, Melina has impeccable timing.  Yesterday morning, before Tim left for work, Melina asked for a story from Daddy.

Melina:  Can Daddy tell me a story?
Me:  Yes, but not right now.  Daddy is on the potty.
Melina:  But his head is not in the potty.

I forget sometimes how refreshing and funny kids are when they call it like they see it.  I was kind of surprised to hear that she didn't say his hands weren't in the potty.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Celebrity Status

Melina and I are scheduled to be at the kids' school at least three days this week.  It has been a long time since we've been there that many times, so it isn't too bad, other than the fact that I am not getting anything else done this week.  But that isn't the reason for my post.

The reason is this:  the minute we walk into that school, Melina's face shines.  Her eyes turn bright and she looks for people she knows.  Yesterday, we were lucky enough to find two classes in the hallway, looking at the books set out for the book sale.  Melina quickly scanned the kids, found Zoe, Talia, Jackie, Sammy, Talia D., Belle, Anna, and a few others, and gave them each a hug.  The funny thing is, all of these kids are so happy to see Melina. "Oh, Melina, how are you?" they squeal, or, "Can I have a hug, too?"  Melina is happy to oblige.

All of that happened before we even made it into the front office to check in.  There, her celebrity status continued.  "What is Melina dressed up like today?"  Mrs. W asked as I signed my name on the visitor sign-in paper.  "How are you Melina?" another office person said.  What about me?  I'm the one that actually brings the child to school.  Can't anyone get all excited to see me?

Just kidding. I think it is great that Melina embraces the school and the school embraces her right back.  I will find it interesting to see how she handles actually attending the school next year.  Will she be too familiar with the people and the places?  Because I know her celebrity status will be taken away the minute she walks through that door as a student.  I think I'd better prepare her for that day; I don't want to see the starlet stumble.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Just Because

Zoe and Talia attended their first book club meeting of the school year last Saturday.  Melina was not a guest, but went with Tim to pick them up.  The book discussion was a success, as was the picture taking afterwards.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012


It's hard to fall in love with something you are required to do.  But in 7th grade, I did just that.

I attended a Catholic school and was required to wear navy blue sweaters, if we wanted to wear one at all.  And one day, sometime during 7th grade, I found my love in the Men's department at TJMaxx.  Navy blue wool with a v-neck collar.  Nothing special about it:  no monograms or fancy piping, just a plain old comfortable sweater. I wore it in the fall, winter and early spring.  I tried to wear it on the stuffy, hot, May days, but feared that the sweat dripping down my arms and neck would give way to some issues.  But come the fall of 8th grade, I pulled it back out again.  I have no idea what happened to that sweater.  I probably gave it away after finishing 8th grade.  No more navy for me; I'd moved on to dark green or gray. Again, a uniform dictated my choices.

This past Sunday, I headed to Marshalls to check on some cardigans. I could have 100 of them and I still wouldn't have enough.  I like to wear them in any season, and I find sweaters easy to wear to work.  I don't need that many shirts if I have a bunch of cardigans I can mix and match.  Add to that the fact that I am always cold, and you know why I love them so much.  Well there I was, in the Ladies department, just browsing, when I spot a charcoal gray wool cardigan.  Simple construction, great length, no ruffles, toggles, funny buttons or weird cuts.  It looked promising.

Well, let's keep this story short.  I tried it on, and I was taken back in time.  I found my new favorite sweater, for a multitude of reasons.  Please forgive me if you see me wearing it every day from now on.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Take a Vote

This post isn't about the upcoming election.  Don't worry, even I am not courageous enough to bring up that subject here.  If you don't know who you are voting for by now (and I happen to be one of those persons that believes undecided voters do exist, much like Santa) then take some time in front of a computer and bring up the issues.  See where these candidates stand and make a decision.

Anyway, back to my own problem.  I am placing a few questions out here in cyberspace, and hope to take a vote.  For those of you that don't know me, the questions may seem random to you, but please know that there is a bigger plan at work here.  For those of you that know  me well, I think the plan is quite obvious.

1.  Should Harvey's mouth move when he speaks?
2.  If my main character thinks she is from one of Jupiter's moons, is it okay for her to not actually travel there?  (This one might be tough.  I don't want to reveal anything just yet, but this book is not a space travel book.  That doesn't mean I couldn't write a sequel to it.  Heck, everyone is writing sequels these days.  I might as well just plan on  it.)
3. How bad should my villain be?  I'm aiming for an audience that sits in the 2nd to 4th grade reading level, I think.  I don't want to scare anyone.  And I have no plans to kill off my villain. I'd almost rather teach a lesson with him/her.
4. As for my ending, I seem to be stuck there.  I know what the end is, but is it okay for me to just explain everything?  I feel like I am doing a Scooby-Doo if I just have things explained.  But see #3.  This age group might need the explaining.

Thanks in advance!

Saturday, October 20, 2012


So I am at the end of the Harvey story...I know where it ends, I just need to get there.  I sit at my computer, which, by the way is an awesome computer and I am thankful to Tim for buying it for me, and I pull  up the story.  I look at the words on the paper, and then I get an idea.  But not for how to finish this story...for how to add more to the other story I am working on.  I pull that one up in Word, and a surge rushes through me...I crank out a couple of thousand words and sit back, thinking that I could do this for a living, provided I got paid just a little for my time.  If only I had the ability to sleep 4 hours or less a night...I think I might be able to finish both of these books and move on to the next one.  Whew.  I'm done.

P.S.  I just checked my word count.  Between yesterday and today I added 6000 words to this story.  If only it had been the Harvey one, I'd be done with the first draft!  

Friday, October 19, 2012

Mind Changes

Melina:  Do you know what my new favorite color is, Mom?
Me:  Um, no.  What is it?

I was expecting her to say hot pink instead of pink.  Really, I was.

Melina:  Green.  My new favorite color is green.
Me:  Oh really.  I like green, too.
Melina:  That means I can wear pants, skirts, shirts, and dresses with all of the colors on them.
Me:  Well, okay then.

Sure enough, this morning she chose a pair of jeans and a white shirt with butterflies and purple striped sleeves.  There is a little bit of green, but not much.  Faulty logic, I say.  But still funny. 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Remember Me

Her name was Carmela Cornelia.  She wasn't fond of that middle name, she said, but it made for a lovely case of alliteration.  Her married name did, after all, also start with a C.  I remember as a kid I'd sing her name to myself because I thought it was so beautiful.  And any time I heard either of those names, which, to be honest, wasn't that often, I'd think of Grandma.

I thought of Grandma this morning, too.  I drew the car up to the red light and stopped, glancing at my hands as they gripped the steering wheel.  The sun shone from the east, and the rays caught the skin of my right hand such that I looked at it twice.  The epidermal layer looked smooth and shiny, almost translucent in the bright morning light.  Had I not known they were my hands, I'd have thought they were my grandma's.

Grandma has been gone for 9 years now, and I miss her more and more at times like that.  A smell, a hand, a word, all of them can conjure the image of Carmela.   I remember so much about her:  the hard, pink curlers my mother rolled into her hair once a week; the fact that she couldn't eat tomatoes; the bed stilts my dad kept handy for when she visited; the bread bags of Italian cookies she'd bring; the warm scent of her shampoo; the poems she'd read to us and the games she'd play with us at the kitchen table.  Grandma had issues with her shoulder, probably with what is now commonly known as the rotator cuff.  She'd need to use her good arm to help the bad arm when reaching for something.  If she needed help, she'd ask sheepishly, as if she were putting us out or something.  That bad shoulder never kept her from helping with anything around the house or just playing a slightly wicked game of Zim Zam with us.

Grandma had kids young and my dad had kids late, so Carmela was somewhat older than other grandmothers.  In fact, I was pregnant with the twins the last time I saw her.  She'd been placed in a care facility because she was no longer able to speak and had other various health issues.  But I remember the visit well.  I didn't know what to expect:  I'd been told Carmela was frail and that she might not even understand who I was.  And maybe I am remembering incorrectly, but the minute Grandma saw Gina and me, her hazel eyes lit up.  The Carmela that we knew so well came back, and for just a few moments, we were back in that kitchen again.  We told her that I was expecting a baby (I didn't know there were two babies in there), and her eyes twinkled with pleasure. 

One of Grandma's favorite poems to read to us was Remember Me, by Judith Viorst.  If you've never had the pleasure to read it, I invite you to do so now.  As kids we'd get to the end of the poem, watch Grandma giggle in her chair, and ask her to read it again.  Carmela knew the poem was somewhat crude, but it was so funny!  She'd bring the book back toward herself and start over again at the top.  When those peals of laughter reverberated around the room, Mom usually knew what was up.

When I read that poem now, I might still chuckle a little, but I usually get bleary-eyed instead.  Even though we didn't see Grandma all that often, the things she did made certain we'd always remember her.  It's the little things, people, the little things.  No one needs to step in the dog doo to be remembered.

Remember Me by Judith Viorst
What will they say
When I've gone away:
He was handsome?  He was fun?
He shared his gum?  He wasn't
Too dumb or too smart? He
Played a good game of volleyball?
Or will they only say
He stepped in the dog doo
At Jimmy Altman's party?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Emergency Math System

  This has been a test of the Emergency Math System.  Had this been an actual emergency, you would have been instructed where to tune in your area for news and official information on any math being conducted.

FRN, please sit back and wait for your heart rate to settle.

P.S.  All photos taken from Wikipedia, with permission, only because I was too lazy to find some of Tim's own doodles.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Lunch Dilemma

On Mondays, Aaron eats lunch at the peanut-free table with his friend, Harper.  You've probably heard the name before.  We met Harper and her mom 8 years ago (!) at play group.  Aaron and Harper are both November babies, and have been together in class a couple of times (2, including this year).  A couple of months into Kelsey's pregnancy with their second child, Michael, I found out I was pregnant with Melina.  We couldn't have timed it better if we had tried (which we didn't...if you know the story of Melina, you KNOW we didn't try).  Melina and Michael will most likely be in the same grade as well.

Anyway, back to my story of sorts.  Monday is Aaron's day to eat with Harper.  Which means I pack up a nut-free lunch.  I check the labels of anything prepackaged, if I send it (which I rarely do) and make sure not to give Aaron his standard PB&J sandwich.  I even cleared a recipe with Kelsey, one for oatmeal banana bars, just to make sure I could make Aaron a decent lunch.  Kelsey has asked that if Aaron (or any other child) is scheduled to eat with Harper, that the child does not buy lunch that day. 

Well there lies the dilemma.  Aaron loves eating lunch with Harper.  Apparently, eating lunch with Harper can be EPIC...lots of funny stuff and very little eating.  Well not always, because I know the kids are hungry.  But at least one Monday, Aaron came home with most of his lunch still in his lunch box.  But what about the days that Aaron's favorite school lunch, in fact the only one that he will buy (much to my chagrin; I'd rather he not buy a school lunch at all, but that is for another post) is on the menu?!?  What to do?

I am proud to report that today, Aaron chose sitting with Harper over buying the Pepperoni Pizza Stick for lunch.  And if that just doesn't scream, "I love you" than you don't know Aaron.  Possible prom date?  College sweethearts?  Future daughter-in-law?  I guess we'll find out.  At least we already know that aside from our love of peanut butter and peanut products, our families are compatible.

Sunday, October 14, 2012


Nothing new to report and not much to say.

Can you believe that one?

Yeah, me neither.  Perhaps I will be slammed with voices in my head this week, forcing me to write furiously some new posts. 

Stay tuned.

But wait!  I just migrated to the other tab and reminded myself that the Tigers and Yankees played last night in Game 1 of the ALCS.  I doubt any of you know this, since I have never mentioned it, but I am a Tigers fan.  I still have the commemorative baseball from when they won the 1984 World Series.  Sure, it is in a box in the basement, but I do have it.

Now,  there is nothing I like better (well, except for a good run and some ice cream) than to see the Tigers beat the Yankees.  Well done.  But this, this went beyond elation when I read the following:
What will be etched in the minds of those who watched this game will be Yankees shortstop and captain Derek Jeter crumpled on the ground in pain during the Tigers' two-run rally in the 12th and being helped off the field by manager Joe Girardi and head athletic trainer Steve Donohue.  Jeter suffered a fractured left ankle that will keep him out of the rest of the postseason. Detroit Free Press, Sunday, 10/14/12, written by John Perrotto, Special for USA TODAY Sports.
Jeter hurt? Great.  Out for the rest of the post season?  Even greater.  How shameful, I know.  I don't  speak for any other Tigers' fans, but I can say two things. 1. Even though I don't like seeing anyone get hurt, if it had to happen, better it happen to Jeter than any of our people (I love to hate Derek Jeter).  And 2.  His crumpling really won't be "etched in the minds of those who watched the game," at least in my opinion.

How about the Tigers almost losing after being up 4-0?  Isn't that a little bit more of a mind-etching scheme for you?  And the fact that Valverde might not be counted upon to close the game?  Yeah, that little bit would have a greater chance of being etched in my mind than the crumpling of Derek Jeter.  And that is a good thing. Because if I actually did hold that vision of Derek Jeter getting hurt in my mind, and basked in the goodness it brought about, and I did this over and over again, you'd really have to wonder what sort of person I have become.  

Go Tigers!

Friday, October 12, 2012

Counting the Days

The other morning, on the way into work, I heard a commercial that spoke about the number of days someone had already lived. 

If I look at that number for myself, I have to say that I've lived the following:

39 years * 365 days/year =  14235 days 

In an effort not to scare away FRN, I am not including leap years, nor am I including the fact that my birthday was back in August, so technically I'd need to add some days.  For that matter, aren't I really in my 40th year?  I guess I am, since my first year was from birth to age 1. 

I know, I know, I scared you already.  Come back, please.

Why am I going this route?  Because I realized actually how short life really is.  Let's say I'd like to live to be 108.  That is a very random number, but one I have clung to for a while now.  I really would like to live that long, provided I am in good health. 

If I do, then I will get to live:

108 years * 365 days/year = 39420 days

And if I do the subtraction I have:

39420 days - 14235 days = 25185 days left to live 

A good number, but not so much!  Not so much, if you ask me!

And this is a very long and circuitous route to my point.  Make each day count. 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Troubled Times

Many of you have heard this by now, but I received an email from Aaron's teacher the other night.  I think an email is slightly better than a phone call, because you have the ability to react without having the other person listen.  This is what the email said:

Hello there Mrs. C,

Hope all is well.  I have another bathroom story.... boys just LOVE that place!!!!!! 

Aaron was caught putting the boys pass in the toilets today and swishing it around.... he wasn't bothering others but that is a disrespect of my property.  I talked to him about it and told him we may need to come up with a plan if he can't go to the bathroom, do his business and get out!  Thought you might want to know since this is the 2nd bathroom incident. 

Thanks so much.  Have a nice evening!!

My first reaction?  I laughed out loud.  So glad to know that my kid, the one so interested in science, was probably trying to see what the pass would do to the swirling action of the toilet.  My second reaction?  I got mad.  Thankfully, Aaron wasn't here, because I wanted to haul something at him.

Things started swirling in my head.  Haven't we taught you to use good judgment?  To not deface property?  To work at school and play at home?  And for goodness sakes, if you want to experiment in the bathroom, at least make sure the bathroom is empty, so that maybe just maybe your chance of getting caught would be pretty slim?   I actually said that last bit to him once he had gotten home and we had discussed the whole incident.  Tim looked at me and said, "Great, go and put ideas in his head."  Aaron glanced at me and said, "I didn't think of that."  No duh, kid.

No one ever said raising kids was easy.  

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Fake Ones

"Today my life changed, Mom," Melina said, as she walked in to the kitchen.

"Oh really?  How?" I asked.

"Because today, at Kroger, I saw a pretend vacuum.  Yes, I don't know if it is a vacuum [meaning she doesn't know if it will actually work], but it might be one," she said.

"And how did that change your life?" I asked.

"Well, I didn't know there were fake ones," she said, and then ran toward the living room.

Just wait until she finds out about breast implants.  That concept is going to blow her mind.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

November Plans

For the past couple of years, I have tried to post every single day in the month of November, otherwise known as NaBloWriMo.  I've been able to do it, and while I am busy this year, I probably could do it again.  However, my rate of posting has increased anyway, so where is the challenge?

Well, it can be found instead in NaNoWriMo.  What is that, you ask?  To write a novel in one month.  According to the website, "Participants begin writing on November 1. The goal is to write a 50,000-word (approximately 175-page) novel by 11:59:59 PM on November 30." Now, I might be seeking a challenge, but I am not crazy.  There is no way I can conceivably put together that many words over the span of one month.  I wish, but I still have to teach and be a mom, so right now, it just ain't gonna happen.

But I have a plan.  I told you that my Harvey story is in the home stretch.  I don't know how many chapters I have left, but I am almost there.  I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel and I just need to reach that light.  So, instead of writing another novel in the month of November (which yes, I'd really like to do someday), I plan on having my first novel done by 11:59:59 PM on November 30.  And now, since I said it, I better actually hold myself to it.

Which just means that I might not post during the month of November.  I'm sure you will miss my complaints and snarky comments, but perhaps I'll have a guest writer on here, or even better, maybe Tim can post a couple of times.  Remember him?  He was the one that started the blog.

What are your November plans?

Saturday, October 6, 2012

From the Mixed-up Files of My Class

I gave my second exam today to my Saturday class.  The last exam scores were dismal, so I adjusted my test accordingly.  I made the questions somewhat easier, and also let them use their notes.  The results?  A little better, but some people still managed to get Ds. 

Who were these people?  One, a person that just sits in class and doesn't really pay attention, and the other?  Someone who refused to use her notes. 

"I want to see what I know," she said to me, the 3rd time she asked me about a question and my answer was, "I am letting you use your notes, therefore I cannot answer that question." 

I so appreciate that she is trying her best and wants to really understand the material.  But how about you take the test without the notes, and then go back and check yourself?  Wouldn't that be a great idea? Wouldn't that help you understand the material, too?  You could check where you went wrong and correct yourself. And then, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't complain to me after you took the exam because you would have gotten the 94% for which you were aiming.

Apparently these guys won't win on Jeopardy and they certainly won't win any prizes for common sense, either.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Zoe and Talia Discover Gmail

The girls have Gmail accounts that are used in conjunction with their library cards.  Up until now, they have had no use for an email account, so I have had their emails forwarded to me.  This works great in terms of the library:  I can see what they have checked out (I already know, since I am the one to take them) and when it is due.  We've saved ourselves some high fees this way.

Anyhoo, the girls have recently used their email accounts to send a couple of questions to their teachers over the weekend.  I still have the accounts forwarded, so I've been able to see the outgoing mail and response.  I like being in the loop.

Either the girls have forgotten that their email addresses are forwarded, or they don't care.  Because today, after they'd done some of their homework, I checked my mail to find this:


 and this:

and this: