Image borrowed from Spicy RV

So we have a friend named Melissa who is an amazing photographer extraordinaire. She recently went to the dermatologist for a Microdermabrasion and allowed herself to be talked into getting a chemical peel. The result? Were days of pain and an inability . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Think Before You Peel {PSA}]]>

Image borrowed from Spicy RV

So we have a friend named Melissa who is an amazing photographer extraordinaire. She recently went to the dermatologist for a Microdermabrasion and allowed herself to be talked into getting a chemical peel. The result? Were days of pain and an inability to fully move her face (when I went to visit her you could just tell how much pain she was in; she could hardly open her mouth to talk!). She made this video about what happens when you go into something uninformed. She’s not saying Microdermabrasion is bad, but she’s saying educate yourself! Sometimes, we get sucked in by sales gimmicks and slick talking… the Dermatologist Office is probably not one of the places that we should be talked into getting something. I’ll leave you with a before photo and her video (it’s a bit dark, but you can still see the bruising). Hopefully, this will all clear up.

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This year, though…

Sorry, Charlie.

I am not sending out Christmas cards.

I’m tired.

I’m overworked.

I’m . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Sorry, Charlie]]> So every year I usually spend a crazy amount of time creating Christmas cards, ordering them and mailing them out to almost everyone I know. I think my Christmas card list peaks at about 50.

This year, though…

Sorry, Charlie.

I am not sending out Christmas cards.

I’m tired.

I’m overworked.

I’m trying to prepare my classroom for January because I know that I will not be doing ANYTHING over Christmas break.

Anything- you hear me?

I’ve just decided that sending Christmas cards is just way too all-consuming.

Holiday spirit, Christmas Cheer, Spread joy, All that good stuff. I know, I know.

Listen here folks,

I just got my child potty trained, she does not sleep at night (nor has she ever since the day of her birth)- she’s still waking up about 3 times per night. My alarm goes off at 5 am, I get to work and start running around, making copies, lesson planning, etc. school starts at 8:10 and in bursts 24 screaming, yelling, rambunctious 6 & 7 year olds. I spend 7 hours a day with them- after school on Tuesdays I do detention and on Wednesdays I do Student Council with the 4th and 5th graders. More lesson planning, more copies, cleaning and prep for tomorrow. Pick up Pea from school, run any errands, come home, make dinner, family time, watch tv, lesson plan, blog, bed, turn around…

Do it again.

I’m tired y’all.

I don’t know if that’s a good excuse, but that’s the one that I am using.

But I’m not going to go into total slack mode. I’m thinkin’ I’ll send an e-holiday card. I mean it is 2011, everything is electronic now, right?

I mean who was it that said it’s the thought that counts?

Well, it better be, cause that’s what’s happening.

Christmas Card #fail in 2011.

Maybe in 2012 I’ll do better.

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I am out of commission.

I had a wisdom tooth pulled on Friday.

JUST ONE.

And my world has been rocked.

My face? Feels like what I assume it would feel like to have been shot in the face and have your face bones shattered.

I am having a hard time . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Down For the Count]]> Y’all.

I am out of commission.

I had a wisdom tooth pulled on Friday.

JUST ONE.

And my world has been rocked.

My face? Feels like what I assume it would feel like to have been shot in the face and have your face bones shattered.

I am having a hard time sleeping. I can’t open my mouth all the way (which makes it really hard to teach).

Ice, Vicodin (or Motrin)

Vicodin (or Motrin), Ice

Rinse. Repeat.

What the fork and spoon?

I’m dyin’.

Think happy thoughts for me.

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And used in the absolute correct context as well.

Now, I know what you’re thinking “Really Dawana? Your mouth is more filthy thank a poopy diaper… are you surprised at the dropping of the s-bomb?”

I know guys. I cuss a lot.

And for . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Oh Shiz]]> Well really it was more like “Oh Shit!”

And used in the absolute correct context as well.

Now, I know what you’re thinking “Really Dawana? Your mouth is more filthy thank a poopy diaper… are you surprised at the dropping of the s-bomb?”

I know guys. I cuss a lot.

And for some reason, my brain is so well programmed that it turns off at the sound of the bell at 8:05 and my cursing turns back on at about 3:15 pm.

And yes, I cuss at home.

And I know, I need to tone it down.

I just get so fired up about so many things and they just come out.

But oh y’all…

Yesterday…

Pea was helping me make rice… and I use the term “make” lightly, meaning we just dumped rice and water into the rice cooker (but that’s beyond the point).

Anyway, as we are pouring rice into the rice cooker, some fell on the counter and

“Oh tit”

Wait…what?

“Pea, what did you just say?”

“I tay- Oh tit”

**sigh**

(Enter feelings of great sadness, guilt and absolute #MOMMYFAIL)

Start Pea’s first true Mommy Lecture

Now, I’ve gotten many Mommy lectures and I’ve given many First Grade Teacher lectures, but I’m no expert, so I thought the only way to explain to her that shit was a bad word was to repeat it.

Right? (Oh please say yes)

“Pea?

Yet Mommee

We do not say oh shit… those are really bad words and do we say bad words?

No way!

Right, so Mommy doesn’t want you to say oh shit those are bad words and bad words are only for Mommys and Daddys to say sometimes, not big girls or babies Okay?

Otay Mommee

So, do we say bad words?

No Mommee

Okay, so are you supposed to say oh shit?

No Mommee, I towee”

Phew. Crisis averted for now.

I’m sure more bad words will come out and really? It’s my fault. I say it, she repeats it. I’ve gone almost 3 years without her dropping any curse word bombs.

So. I may have revoked my good Mommy card for about 5 seconds yesterday, then I gave it back to myself because… it could’ve been worse.

She could’ve said oh shit at school.

That would’ve been embarrassing.

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From August to January, we eat, sleep and breathe college football in this house. We shout GO GATORS!! at the top of our lungs and of course, we pay homage to “Big Red” (University of Nebraska) because my husband was born and raised in Omaha, . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: One More Game]]> College football is a way of life.

From August to January, we eat, sleep and breathe college football in this house. We shout GO GATORS!! at the top of our lungs and of course, we pay homage to “Big Red” (University of Nebraska) because my husband was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska.

Last night, though, friends… the college football world exploded.

The Board of Trustees of Penn State removed Joe Paterno from his job as the head football coach of Penn State University.

Now if you don’t know who Joe Paterno is (how could you not?), he is was the coach of Penn State’s football team. He was one win away from having the most wins in college football history. At 84 years old, this man had been the head coach of Penn State Football since 1966. Also known as the “father of Penn State” according to news reports that I’ve heard thus far, Joe Paterno had so much pull at the university- he even (allegedly) had a say in who was on the Board of Trustees at the school.

Um really? You’re the football coach.

As news of child sexual abuse occurring on campus came to light, it was revealed that a Graduate Assistant (at the time) informed Joe Paterno that he witnessed a former coach sodomizing a young boy on campus and Joe Paterno told his boss- the Athletic Director.

That’s it.

He didn’t follow-up to see if the Athletic Director reported it.

He didn’t pick up the phone and call the police himself to report the incident.

He didn’t confront the coach whom the graduate assistant said he saw molesting the young child.

He did nothing.

As a teacher, I know that I am legally required to report all instances of abuse… even a suspicion of abuse should be reported so that I can allow the professionals to do their job by investigating.

I can’t judge Joe Paterno, I don’t know where his mindset was at when he chose to do nothing more than report the incident to his senior. And I don’t know what the Graduate Assistant was thinking when he went straight to Joe Paterno. He didn’t say “Hey! What are you doing to that kid?!” He didn’t call the police himself. (And it should be noted that as of now he has not been fired by the university) So is he just as much at fault as Joe Paterno is? I wasn’t there. I only know what the news is telling me.

I know what I would do in that situation (or at least I think I know what I would do), but…

The person charged with child molestation, Jerry Sandusky, has been charged with molesting 8 boys over 15 years.

Sick.

Him, I will judge.

Fuckin disgusting piece of shit. Who does that to children?!

WHO?!

/end judgement

Moving on.

All hell broke loose last night after Joe Paterno was fired.

Students were rioting, breaking car windows, climbing on poles and last night on ESPN they showed students chanting “One More Game!” These students want Joe Paterno to be able to coach just one more game.

I love me some college football.

Love.

But I’m wondering if they realize that this isn’t about football and what a great football coach he was and how he dedicated his life to this University.

Nope.

This is about morals, child safety, the university’s image, etc., etc., etc.

About how the university had to do something because doing nothing may have been more detrimental to them than letting him coach just one more game.

The news says that Joe Paterno may be named as a defendant in the cases that will follow.

He said himself that in hindsight he wishes he would’ve more.

It does suck, though, that after more than 40 years at Penn State that his career would come to an end like this. Not only will he be remembered for his amazing coaching, but he will also be: “ohh isn’t that the guy that got fired because of a child abuse scandal?”

Yup… he’ll be that guy too.

And that’s just shitty for him.

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But have you ever experienced the absolute fear that comes with having your car skid off to the wrong side of the road and be stuck because it will no longer move?

Yeah…

That was my Wednesday morning.

So the news said that it would . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: About The Day I Almost Died…]]> I mean I could totally be exaggerating…

But have you ever experienced the absolute fear that comes with having your car skid off to the wrong side of the road and be stuck because it will no longer move?

Yeah…

That was my Wednesday morning.

So the news said that it would snow and there would be winds between 30 and 50 miles per hour. “Look for school closures and delays” they said, but I know my school district and I know that Jesus Christ himself could appear and say “school is closed today” and our Superintendent would say “uhh no, school is open. Sorry Jesus.”

So I woke up yesterday morning and knew I’d need to leave extra early to give myself enough time to make it through the snow. I drove in the snow last winter and by no means do I consider myself an expert, but I did pretty okay. I was an absolute nervous wreck every time I drove in the snow, but I did okay. Come on- I’m a Florida girl. Torrential rain? I can do. Snow? Not so much.

Anyway, I left at about 6:15 knowing I’d need every last second to get there as I knew I’d be driving well below the speed limit. The roads were covered with snow… except it was about 25 degrees outside, so the snow was actually ice. Every. Last. Flake of snow was ice. The roads had not been plowed (surprise, surprise… they are HORRIBLE about plowing here)… no sand, no salt- nothin’.

Well, not only were the Colorado drivers disapproving of me driving about 20-30 mph when the speed limit on the street by my house is 55 mph (never mind that I was sliding here, there and everywhere) but one even had the nerve to both tailgate and highbeam me!! (Asshole!)

So, after much swerving and sliding, the day came to an abrupt halt when before my eyes on an uphill 3 cars started skidding and/or sliding backwards down the hill. I go into absolute panic mode- holy shit, holy shit- what do I do? what do I do? So, I brake. I can’t keep going straight, right? I’d drive right into someone and be an ice accident statistic. The minute I stepped on my brakes I knew this was not going to end well. I slid, my tires turned and whirred and my 2007 Nissan Sentra with way too expensive Yokohama all-weather tires which are supposedly “great in the winters” slid right into the wrong side of the road and then? My car stopped.

It was still running, but it refused to move.

I pressed the gas. Whirr, whirr, whirr said my tires.

“Awe shit” I thought.I’m fuckin stuck on an uphill, right by a blind corner on the wrong side of the road… I can just see a truck/car/van come flying around this corner thinking all is well and SMACK hitting me head on.

I tried to move the car again. Whirr, whirr, whirr

Even worse? Now there’s a car right next to me… stuck. And the 2 cars that were stalled in front of me? Still stuck.

Okay, think. Think. “Oh wait, two more cars coming up behind me… don’t hit me, don’t hit me… Wait… oh… they are sliding too. Aaaand they are now stuck. This is great.”

Okay, I can’t move forward. I can’t go back. And I’m stuck on an uphill, on the wrong side of the road, in the dark (why would there be streetlights on the road? That’s just all too easy!). Start freaking out right…

Now.

Oh my God, Oh my God. Holy Shit. Holy Shit. Okay…. call husband. Bluetooth on, calling Husband.

“Babe? Um so I’m stuck. On an uphill. On the wrong side of the road AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!

OH MY GOD. I’M GONNA GET HIT BY ANOTHER CAR.

THIS IS SO FUCKING BAD.

I HATE THIS FUCKING CAR! HATE.

WHAT DO I DO?! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

I’m sure the conversation was much more hysterical than that with my husband saying “calm down babe, calm down… here’s what you do….

Long story short….

There was a frantic phone call to my boss. (Who told me to go home and don’t even think about coming in)

There were police involved.

The road was shut down.

The cop helped me turn around.

I pulled into the first parking lot I saw.

Abandoned my fucking car there (thank you, 7-Eleven), got a donut and coffee, got into my husband’s car and took my ass home.

Two conclusions came out of this debacle:

1. I need a new fucking car. More specifically I need a Jeep (or SUV as you non-New York City people call them).

2. I need to move back to fuckin Florida cause this ice is some bullshit.

Number 1 will be happening this weekend. Rash decision? Maybe. But part of me could only think about what I would do if Pea was in the car with me when all of this shit went down. I know that SUVs are not the be-all, end-all in the world of ice and snow. BUT being armed with 4 x4 power plus great tires plus all around air bags gives me some type of feeling of security. Especially when driving with my most prized Princess Pea.

Number 2? I’m workin on it. No joke. You hear that JILL, VAL, MARION AND DEVORA?!?!? I AM TRYING TO COME THE FUCK HOME.

That is all.

Shout out to Jesus for getting me out of that mess and home safe. You da man.

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One would think that I was with the ridiculous fluctuations of hormones.

Crying. Not crying.

Mad. Not mad.

And last week? I spent every day just so damn annoyed at everyone and everything.

I’d like to blame my inappropriate behavior on work. Cause it’s just so easy to do . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: About The Time Where I Was Just So Damn Bitchy]]> Am I pregnant?

One would think that I was with the ridiculous fluctuations of hormones.

Crying. Not crying.

Mad. Not mad.

And last week? I spent every day just so damn annoyed at everyone and everything.

I’d like to blame my inappropriate behavior on work. Cause it’s just so easy to do that.

I was wondering if I needed to give the Doc a call and get back on my happy pills.

It’s not like I’m trying to have a baby right now cause that hasn’t been workin’ out in this house.

So it’d be safe to get my happy pills back.

But I’m too lazy to go to the doctor after a long day at work with 24 six year olds. It’s too far. And? It’s $25 that I don’t wanna spend. Then I’d have to go to the pharmacy.

Yeah. I’m lazy.

Whatever.

This post is going nowhere fast.

But you should just know that the bitch is alive. So… yeah, the next few posts should be fun.

Unless I find a way to “turn that frown upside down…” though I’m not very good at that.

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Not even kidding.

People love rollin’ out of their house in their pjs and house shoes. Even worse? They bring the kids out of the house like that too. It is not . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: “I Don’t Have to Get All Dressed Up…”]]> So have I mentioned that in this town (city?- whatever), the dress code is as follows:

• pajamas
• slippers
• slippers
• pajamas

Not even kidding.

People love rollin’ out of their house in their pjs and house shoes. Even worse? They bring the kids out of the house like that too. It is not uncommon to be at the store and see a child running around in those one-piece footed pajamas WITH NO SHOES ON OVER IT. I hope that kid isn’t getting back into a bed with those dirty ass pj’s when they get home. Yuck.

Oh, don’t act like you forgot that I’m a germaphobe.

What kind of nasty shit is now on the bottom of your child’s footed pajamas? They need to be washed ASAP… or burned.

Either one.

But about a week ago I stumbled upon this lovely piece on Facebook

And I just could not stop dying of laughter.

Get dressed up? To go to Walmart?

Seriously?

I have absolutely lowered my standards of leave-the-house-appropriateness because of places like Walmart (and the lovely People of Walmart website which I have thought about contributing to OFTEN)…

I can’t even contain my laughter now.

And thought it appropriate to share.

You’re welcome.

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But this man cannot make a decision.

At all.

And it drives me FUCKING insane.

On nights when I don’t make dinner, this is how the conversation goes:

Him: “What do you want for dinner?” (Clearly hungry)

Me: “It doesn’t really matter. What do you feel like?”

First, it’s the cheapest grocery store in our town.

Second, it’s my one-stop shop. No longer do I need to go to the grocery store, then go to the pharmacy, then go ____ (fill in other store here).

I can buy milk and a new . . . → Click Here To Read The Full Blog Post: Bad Produce]]> I really, really like shopping at WalMart.

First, it’s the cheapest grocery store in our town.

Second, it’s my one-stop shop. No longer do I need to go to the grocery store, then go to the pharmacy, then go ____ (fill in other store here).

I can buy milk and a new shower curtain liner. Cereal and ink for my printer. Bread and new pants for Pea to wear to school (because I will NOT pay more than $2 for pants she will wear to daycare and ruin!)

What I have a hard time buying at WalMart is fruit.

The oranges are in these ginormous boxes on the floor and a large majority of them are covered in mold.

The strawberries are in the cooler, but when you look in the boxes, most of the strawberries are moldy.

And this week, I wanted to buy Pea some blueberries?

Not even like some mold here or there… I think I see Chewbacca growing on the blueberries in both of those cases.

The same goes for the grapes and other produce.

I’ve told the produce manager- even brought bad fruit to them and I get an “oh, thanks, I’ll go look over there”… How can you MISS IT?!? There is hair growing on the fruit!!! It’s insane. And I know… it’s Walmart and they are packing the fruit like this is Costco or Sam’s Club so what is to be expected but rotten fruit, but still. It pisses me off because you should give a shit about your customers and your fruit aisle… at least care enough to get rid of the bad fruit. Who is this helping? Because do you really think anyone will buy it?!

I’m going to start taking a picture every time I see bad fruit at WalMart.

Just for fun…

Let’s see how many photos I get.

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