100 Day Celebration

"Congratulations!" I said vigorously shaking the hand of a five year old boy.  "You've made it!  100 days days of school!  That's quite an accomplishment!"

I volunteered at kinder today.  Maya's class had a party to Celebrate 100 days of school for the year.  (The school gets funding based on how many kids attend school on the 100th day so that's why...)

I was in charge of helping the young 'uns make these hats. 

Riddle me this:  Why have I used this skull as my model? Be creative.


I was SO excited about the 100th day of school I SANG ALOUD     at the kinder celebration.

I sang Justin Beiber songs.  "BABY, BABY, BABY OHHHH BABY BABY BABY..."

One child approached me and asked me to stop singing as it was giving him a headache.  He was very polite.

Another child informed me he steals Justin Beiber's money.  I was intrigued.

"Tell me more," I prompted.

"Well, I go to the bank and take all the money that is his because I hate his music," said the boy.

"Why aren't you in jail?" I asked.

"Because the police hate Justin Beiber's music too," said the boy.

No lie. (About the boy, not the police hating The Beib's music.)

Cake was served at 9am.  Lemon. Mmmm.  Yellow-ey.

The children discussed cake as they ate.

"Cake is JUNK!" said a boy with a mouthful.

"NO! IT'S NOT!  IT'S FOOD!  THAT YOU EAT!  JUNK GOES IN THE TRASH!" said another.

"Cake is sugar," said a little girl.

"NOOOO! Sugar goes on the top.  Like sprinkles." said Maya.

"Yeah.  Only the top is sugar.  The rest is bread.  And bread is good for you," I said.


 I love cake.

This morning before school I stood in the parking lot handing out Xanax and Valium to all the moms.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" I said.  "100 DAYS OF SCHOOL!  HERE  YOU GO!  YOU'VE EARNED IT!"

Once word got out, I was swarmed by mobs of women in pajama pants, Ugg boots and eye crusties. 

"I want one!  Hey!  SHE GOT TWO!  I WANT ANOTHER ONE!" said the women.

"Ladies!  Ladies!  I have enough Crazy Pills to go around.  No need to shove.  Now go home and watch Oprah from your DVR," I said.

I love my job.

Paper Don't Grow On Trees

"Please make 75 copies of each of the marked pages in this book," said T-bone's teacher, who happens to be a dude in his early 30's with shoulder length hair.  (I know you automatically pictured a school marm in a thick brown cardi, so I thought I'd adjust the image in your head.  You're welcome.)

"Also, if you could cut these name tags using the cutting board it would be awesome," he said.

I went to the teacher's lounge/workroom and began my task of cutting.  I got there early enough to use the "good" cutter.  Everyone know the other one sucks and chops off random fingers.  My lucky day, I guess.

There were other moms in there and some teachers having a convo.  I didn't know them so I just eavesdropped.

"Well, I know my son's 3rd grade teacher ran out of paper already!  She has been buying paper for her class with her own money...  I'm just going to go to Costco and get some myself for the class..."

I was stunned and pissed!

DID YOU HEAR THAT???  TEACHERS ARE BUYING THEIR OWN PAPER WITH THEIR OWN MONIES!!!

Teachers aren't exactly rolling in dough, ya know.  (Hey!  dough and ya know rhyme!  FUN!)

I listened for another minute. 

I could bare it no longer.

"Teachers are buying paper THEMSELVES?!"  I piped up.

I think I startled them.  After they recovered they included me in the convo.

"Yes.  I used to teach a long time ago," said a school marm in a thick brown cardigan.  "I remember when we could just make as many copies as we wanted.  There were no computers then... *she chuckled*... But it was far less stressful for teachers.  Oh my!  I just dated myself, didn't I?"

"So how does it work?"  I asked.

"Well, teachers are given their alloted amount of paper and a code for the copy machine.  It clocks how many copies they are making."

I was SO UPSET that I accidentally made 75 copies of the WRONG PAGE!

This is the wrong page in question.  And, yes, I copied more than one.  I copied 75.  75!  During a paper shortage!  Paper don't grow on trees, ya know!

I have a friend that works in paper.  Michael Scott?  Do you know him?  He works for Dunder and Mifflin.    If you're reading this, Michael, hook my kid's school up with a sweet donation, would ya?  (He hangs out in my living room almost every night so we're pretty good friends... I think he'll contribute.)

I had to return to Mr. Long Hair and tell him I had made a mistake.

"I'll buy you some more paper," I said.

"Nah.  It's cool," he said. 

"No.  For real.  I will.  So how are you doin' on paper?" I asked.  "I just found out all about the paper allocation...".  

I felt very smart and informed.

"It's getting low.  I'm going to have to figure out a way to streamline it.  I mean, we HAVE to give the kids work!  How will we know if they are learning anything if we don't?"

I'm completely digusted!  Teachers shouldn't have to be stressing about freaking PAPER!!! Are you kidding me?!

Somebody tell me who is to blame here???  Who can I strangle?  Why is the public school system getting the shaft to this extent?

Do we not realize our children will RUN THIS COUNTRY (not to mention our nursing homes)  when they grow up?!

In other news, I am very excited that I made my very own monies with my very own sweat and blood.  I was paid yesterday and I bought this.  It's not for me. 

Maya's birthday is in a few weeks and I had no idea how to provide the pink bike with streamers she wanted.  TAA DAA! 

There's a really great dress at Anthropologie that I'm dying to own but I bought this instead 'cause that's what mommies do. 

I look really hot in that dress.  Sigh.