Randomosity

Yeah, yeah, yeah, so here it is Monday and I'm all cranky. This is week 2 of my Return to the Land of the 5-Day Work Week, and I'm telling you, my desired bedtime hour is not at all compatible with my required waking up hour. Also, people are pissing me off. Case in point:

On Friday I went to talk to the kindergarten teachers about scheduling therapy sessions with my kids. (An aside: I've taken ownership of everyone in my life lately. I can't mention a person or group of people without preceding it with the word "my." My kids, my teachers, my principal, my occupational therapist, my cabana boy...I don't understand this sudden surge of proprietariness.) See, there's this crazy concept called Early Intervention that suggests that working on the problems of the children is best to occur sooner rather than later. Ergo, there should be no 6th grade children on my caseload still working on their /r/ sound. If you start early, then hopefully you'll get these darn kids all wound up to normal by the time they're 8 or 9, and the only upper level kids you see are the ones who've been living near meth houses their whole lives. Therefore, I expect to see more kids in the lower grades than in the upper and I expect for there to be some happy faces when I come waltzing in to offer my services, because these are needy children and I am helping them, doggone it. So, I trit trotted down to A hall, where the kinder classrooms are, and brightly informed a couple of teachers that my kids were in their classes. Here are their responses, with no attempt made to sympathize with their overworked, no-time-to-dawdle, no child left untested, candyass little schedules:

Me: "Hey, two of my kids are in your class! Let's talk about a good time for me to come in and work with them (i.e., run the class for 30 minutes at a stretch)!" (Also, highly enthusiastic voice was used along with a brilliant smile)

Teacher #1: Deep sigh, followed by whiny tone... "Ugh, I just don't waaaaant to give up any of my teeeeeeaching time..."

Me: Proceed to tell her allllll the options for my services and bending over backward--or was that forward?--to be flexible in dealing with her schedule. She hears: "Blah, blah, blah, blah! Blah!"

Teacher #1: "Unh, I know, but I just don't waaaaaant to give up 30 minutes!"

Me: "Um, actually I'll need an hour."

For my own safety, I left soon after that.

As for teacher #2, the conversation went pretty much exactly the same except that she spent a liiiittle more time explaining how busy her schedule was with the kids and then, in some thinly veiled way, she insulted my work (I won't explain how here because it will reflect on how greatly I blow things out of proportion, and I'd prefer to have you believe that everything I say is true and completely believable).

Well. Okay then. We in the kindergarten world won't burden ourselves with a little something called THE LAW or even worry about the needs of the children. No, I'll just take my great big ol' kindergarten "eff off, you effing eff" and do what we call around here The Workaround. So now I'm going to pull my kids out of those classrooms and trot their little butts over to one of the other kindergarten classrooms where I am loved. The end, amen, and don't call me at home, I'm busy not caring.

By the way, I never meant for this to become a blog about my work.
But whatever.

So, to that end, I shall Move On and provide you with random pictures from my external hard drive.

Here is what I ate for dinner tonight. They're called Smash Potatoes, Or Crankpot Potatoes, or something like that. There's nothing wrong with the one on the left, it's just purple, and it's supposed to look that way. I bought it at a grower's market, which makes me all hippy and cool. I found the recipe for these yummy things over at Ree's blog, and I heartily recommend her recipes. Except the meat ones. Meat's dead, ew.

And here is my nephew Robert's mouth. Why were you showing us your mouth, Robert? I can't remember now. But more importantly, look at those fine teeth! Where are the cavities? I see none!

And this is Robert's friend, Zak. I deliberately chose the blurry picture of him because I know how sensitive he is to having his picture displayed on the internet.

This--THIS--is my great niece Camille. At our recent family reunion she just came waltzing down the stairs dressed like this, carrying her bags for traveling. I learned later from her mother that the wings were a trade-off (read: bribe) for Camille's agreement to wear her big girl underpants. Fair trade, I'd say. I'd totally wear my big girl underpants for some pimped out wings like that. (For those who are following my family lineage, Camille is aj's granddaughter. Yeah. I know.)

And from the random picture generator, we have this:

I double dog dare any of you to find a running theme in this post. Meh. I'm going to bed.