Ash Wednesday

Hey friends!

It’s Ash Wednesday! Which means I’m rockin’ some sweet forehead smudges

They’re totally in this season.

I used to go to 6:30 am mass on Ash Wednesday growing up. While it was great in some ways it meant I inevitably had someone tell me “there’s something on your forehead!”

I’m not sure how I’d manage to get a big old black cross smudged across my forehead without noticing, but thanks everyone, thanks.

I go to evening mass now, which saves that fun.

Ash Wednesday also means no meat, and fasting.

Catholics have a very lose definition of fasting-it’s more or less “don’t eat quite as much as normal”. Here were my Ash Wednesday eats:

Breakfast was oat bran with a tablespoon of peanut butter thrown on so that I wouldn’t chew my arm off. Jesus wants you to keep both arms

Lunch was curry quinoa, spinach, and lentils

Because Jesus and I both love lentils

And dinner was the old Catholic staple (right behind fish sticks and Papa Murphy’s veggie pizza) of grilled cheese and tomato soup

Ash Wednesday also means that I, yet again, forgot to take last year’s palms to be burned

(They go back the Sunday before to be burned for the year’s ashes. I ALWAYS forget)

I’ve already been asked a few times… I don’t give up anything for Lent. I could give you a whole CCD lesson on why, but basically I work on adding things to my life, rather than subtracting . Going to Mass more, following the Church’s commands for abstaining from meat on Fridays, read a religious book or two (like my catechism I had out in the picture above!), things like that. Cause really, personally I’ve found that giving up candy doesn’t bring me closer to God. Which is, you know, kinda the whole point of lent….

You doing anything for lent?

A Spudnut Moment

Know what I haven’t done in a grip and a half?

Posted a whole day’s worth of food.

So, here’s a day in the life.

I woke up exhausted and I downed two cups of unpictured coffee.

I’m an idiot and that was way too much liquid in my tummy, so I wasn’t digging  breakfast.  But I was off to teach and I knew if I didn’t eat something by calendar I’d be ready to eat the class pet.  So I ended up sticking one of these suckers

(Fact:  these are better if you call them La vache qui rit.)

On some Dave’s Killer bread

I adore hummus and toast in the AM (totally normal, right?), but I ate all the hummus last week and need to cook more chickpeas.  So this worked.

I grabbed my lunch

Weird mishmash of stuff.

Two kiwis, an apple, peanut butter (for the apple),  a hunk of Sin Dawg, crack oranges, and beef jerky.  I’ve been eating yogurt for lunches (and breakfasts) like it’s going out of style.  It’s kinda hit the point where it did go out of style.  Whoops.

(I ended up not eating the oranges, but I always aim to overpack-24 children + low blood sugar = hell)

And guess who I found in my class!  My friend from last year!  He switched schools!  Thankfully he’s less of a “friend” this year.

I got home from work and munched on some of these

These are crack.  I would possibly birth your children for a lifetime supply of these.

While I munched I threw together dinner.

1 can diced tomatoes + back beans I cooked the other day + chicken + brown rice + corn + spices = soup

More chips on there.  Way more.  But I hate soggy chips with a fiery passion so I add them as I go.

And for bed dinner

Popcorn

Which was disappointing.  Not because I don’t love popcorn or anything, but because I watched my girl Sarah give a shoutout to my hometown (first min and a half is all you gotta watch)

And since watching that?  It’s all one big Spudnut moment.

And by “Spudnut moment” I mean I would kill for a spudnut right around now.

What’s a food you want and can’t get?  I want spudnuts.  And more of that PB ish from Trader Joe’s.

We are all Friends!

Since bringing Baby Bliss (yes, his-well, hopefully it’s a he-name is Bliss for those who asked) I have been doing a lot of yelling.

I chose to yell “we’re all friends!” at the cats.  Because as a teacher, I know it’s better to pick positive words.  (We’ll ignore what friend means to a teacher, ok?)

And as a teacher I also read a lot of books where animals comprehend human speech.  So I’m delusional and think they understand.

It’s quite possibly working though.  This happened today

That is BOTH cats cuddling me.

Sure, it’s not each other, but it’s a step.

This step meant that I could be friends with my kitchen tonight.

I’m spending most of this week (Today-Thurs at the least) teaching Kindergarten.

It’s fantastic because they think I’m nice and pretty and hilarious.  (Sample comedy from today:  “In Canada, the last letter of the alphabet, that says the zzz sound?  They call that letter name zed!”  Had then in stitches.  If there were comedy clubs that catered to 5 year olds I could have a new career)

Being the funniest person in the room is hard work, so I tried to knock out a ton of food prep tonight while the cats were cautiously tolerating each other.

I got tomorrow’s dinner in the crockpot

Packed up my lunch:   Couscous + carrots + spinach + hummus

And yogurt (homemade again-I’ve made three batches now!) with blueberries

I realized the yogurt would be far more delicious with some granola.  And we were out.

So I solved that problem

And while it baked, took a shower.

Cause I like being funny and all, but I don’t wanna smell funny.  Little kids have no tact.  If you’re stinky they’ll let you know.  Repeatedly.

Teaching is awesome for your ego (“I like you!”  “you’re nice!” “you’re pretty!”) until the day you go to work with a pimple and have to answer the question “Mrs, what’s on your face?” all.  day.  long.

And now I’m going to go enjoy the blissful quiet of my cats not currently trying to eat each other.

How Takeout can paw this pathetic face I don’t know.

If you have pets, how long did they take to get along?

Basics

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I looked through my pictures today, and wasn’t sure what to write about…. Yesterday was just so…. basic.

The most exciting thing I’ve been doing lately is watching the cat play with her pepper box

(that’s a box. With peppers in it.  She loves it.  She drags those stupid peppers everywhere.  I found seven in the kitchen today.  And one in the guest room.  She’s advanced for her age)

But really?  Are basics so bad?

Yesterday I made us both oats for breakfast

(yup I followed up a salad with the most normal breakfast evahhh.  I am large, I contain multitudes.)

My husband has oats for breakfast a lot.  I lovingly make them.  In the microwave, with water.

Since I was having some too they were made on the stove, with part milk, and were also half oat bran, rather than just normal oats.

He loved them.

I feel a little guilty now.

(So guilty in fact that I made him French Toast today.  Seriously.)

I put some pumpkin and pumpkin cream cheese on mine

Is cream cheese a weird choice?  I don’t know.  But I have some in the fridge, and I’m perpetually convinced food is about to go bad.  So I have to use it before my brain is convinced it’s coated in microscopic mold.

Breakfast also calls for some coffee

Carbs and caffiene.  The basics to get your day going.

(Know what’s not basic?  Water.  I didn’t drink any till after work yesterday.  Whoops.)

Lunch was, again, basic

Yogurt (that’s a half full container, with peanut flour and enough cinnamon to kill a puppy), banana, carrots.

And I had a day of teaching kindergarten that was basically a blast.

Dinner was something I don’t make nearly enough

Chicken veggie soup.

I always get all these ideas of soups to make and ignore the basic chicken soup.  And that’s silly of me because it’s so darn good!  And easy.

With bread

I could feed my husband basically anything with bread on the side and he’d be happy.

Not going to lie, I like me some basics.

What’s a super basic meal you love?

I like toast.  A lot.  Like a weird weird lot.   But only if it’s made in the oven.

Velociraptors

Subbing is an adventure.

Some days, you get to have a blast teaching Kindergarteners about how to write a 2 (“boys and girls make sure after you make the belly on the two you make a pointy spot before you do the line”) and have them in stitches giggling at Duck on a Bike

(source)

Kids loved it.  “The duck is on a BIKE!” Giggles all around.

(no the book doesn’t have anything deeper to make it super funny.  It’s a duck.  On a bike.  The kids were rolling on the ground laughing.  I went with it).

But some days, the teacher you’re subbing for calls you the night before and describes her class.  “They’re like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park”

(source)

Adding to the list of things I’ve taught where I’m unqualified:  special ed, middle school, Russian immersion (seriously I’ve taught it), PE, and…. dinosaurs.

I student taught at this school.  It’s a tough school.  The poorest in the district last I checked.  In a housing project.  These kids have a lot going on at home.  There are teachers there who are just burned out.

It was going to be a long day.

There was a late start, but I still had to be there at 7:45.  I corrected some papers, ate breakfast

I never drink enough water unless my blood sugar is really effed (in which case I cannot drink enough.).  I get different water-ish things to make myself drink more.  Currently I’m all about the seltzer water.  Plus Trader Joe’s Greek yogurt (with an absurd amount of cinnamon stirred in.  So good.)

And wrote a blog post.  Which somehow was eaten.

Good morning, you’re teaching velociraptors and technology hates you.

Rad.

Then I got a text from the teacher, asking me to please have the kids put their stuff into plastic garbage bags

Why?

Oh there’s a bedbug infestation in the housing project this school is located in.

Clearly, my day was just getting better and better.

And they’d added in a scripted reading program.

“Scripted” means I get a book like this

Blue = I read.  “Signal” = I snap, and the kids are supposed to respond.  The snapping feels like dog training or something.   Not a fan.

I had leftover soup for lunch

(which was tasty!) and got through the rest of the day.

After the bell rang, two girls asked if they could stay to work on homework. Most of the kids go to the Boys and Girls club after school, and there should be space and staff to help with homework.  But I hear it’s kinda crazy down there.  So as much as I wanted a dinosaur-less room, a snack, and an advil, I let them stay.

One of them, at the end, looked up at me with big eyes and said “I’ve never had a teacher help me with homework before!”

She’s in third grade.  And she hasn’t ever had a teacher take 5 minutes to help her with homework.

There’s a reason kids turn into velociraptors.

When you live in a neighborhood where people get murdered outside your school?  (yeah, that happened this summer)  When it takes your 4th year at a school before a teacher helps you?  When vandalism is such a problem at your school that you get ONE chance, and only one chance, to use the bathroom all morning?

And the problem is, I can’t undo it all.

But I can take a deep breath and say “sure” to something a child asks, even if I don’t want to.

Because really, I didn’t get into teaching just because I loved using pointers and white boards

(although I do love both)

And when you feel like you’ve got a classroom full of velociraptors, you have to remember that your job is to help them become people.

(and when you get home from working on helping dinosaurs become people, ice cream and ibuprofen are a totally acceptable after school snack)