A lovely weekend

I went to Dallas this weekend for a fabulous visit with my Mom (-in-law) and Nannie, and spent a sweltering Sunday at the Rangers game.  No, they didn't bother to even field the ball and sucked it up bigtime.  There's never an excuse for an 8-2 loss to the Athletics.  Perhaps their problem was that it was at least 100 degrees at the 2:05 game?  I'm not sure that I would have run or dived for anything either...  But we had great seats, and even though I thought my shorts were going to melt into my flesh based on the temperature of the seats, I survived unscathed.  All in all, it was a pretty good time.  And I shouldn't ever complain about 10th row seats, right?  Look how close we were!

I have discovered a fact that somewhat disturbs me, though.  I think Milo is an extreme morning person...  Considering that I wake up (and never go back to sleep) at 4:00 a.m. every day like clockwork, I'm starting to be concerned for my sleep health and well-being after he comes.  How do I get this wiggly baby on a new schedule before he even comes?  Is this even possible?

One down, seventeen to go

Well, I'm not sure if I wanted to be upset about the first week of school or not coming in to it.  I was discouraged about my schedule, discouraged about being pregnant and still throwing up pretty often, discouraged about having to get my lazy butt out of bed before 10 every morning...  Basically, things weren't going my way and I was pretty determined to be upset about it.

And it has completely surprised me how glad I am to be here and how much I love all my students.  It's like all my classes were hand-picked to be absolutely delightful, with great mixes of kids and personalities, and plenty of good-natured students to make me laugh.  In fact, they make me laugh hysterically. 

I hear no end to the questions about the pregnancy, the baby, my Nate, and I don't mind a bit.  So far I've heard that I'm tiny to be this pregnant as well as that I really look pregnant.  I've also been offered food on a consistent basis, and every kid selling fundraiser candy seems to make it to my door (and yes, that means I've been eating an obscene amount of gummy bears because I'm not good at saying no).  Nate and I are apparently a beautiful couple who take pretty pictures and look startlingly young, although one of my classes thinks we look like brother and sister, and that we have the same nose.  Oh, and I had to flash a picture of Nate to prove that he was, indeed, white, because my 2nd period has apparently never met a white Jackson. 

Then there are the kids who want to know if my stomach hurts very often, and how my doctor's appointments have been going (?).  Some love the name Milo and others just look at me and say, "Like the movie Milo and Otis?"  And others want to know when I'll be bringing him up to see them and why I need to take time off after he comes. 

Here's my favorite, though.  One of my students asked me if I thought 29 was a little bit old to just be having kids because I'll be really old when they're teenagers.  Hah!  Apparently since he has a friend who was 16 when he became a dad, Nate and I are pushing it at 31 and 29 (respectively). 

Ahhh to be inside the teenage mind again, just for a day.  It would probably explain a lot of the looks and comments I notice throughout the year, that's for sure.  Truth be told, though, I LOVE it.  And I've had an awesome first week back.

My campaign speech

Back on the school schedule.  Or at least, I'm trying, even though my body keeps waking me up at 4:00 a.m. and keeping me up until I drag my lazy bones out of bed at 6 or 6:30.  And then I rush around getting ready, getting dinner stuff ready, packing a lunch (because little peanut Milo demands to be fed all day), trying to find maternity clothes that don't fall off of me...  And when I finally make it to school I just... SIT.  Because I have first period conference.  And believe me, I don't often have much to say on my blog during first period other than, "Pass the pop-tart."  I'm finding myself sadly lacking in interesting material.

Seriously, though, why do we make kids try to learn at 8:10 a.m. anyway?  I honestly think they would benefit more from a shorter school day, with shorter class periods.  10 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., 5 one-hour classes with a half-hour in there for lunch.  Don't you agree?  And even hour-long classes seem long to me, considering I had 45 minute periods in high school (now, granted, there were 8 of them, but it seemed so manageable...).

Anyway, in my zeal for a differently scheduled school day, I'm slinging around grape jelly and english muffin.  So, for the sake of my work outfit, I'll have to cut this short.  Vote for me for President.

The First Day

I did it, I did it, I did it!!!
I survived the first day back to school, and actually, I think it's going to be a quite lovely semester.  I have lively kids and full classes, but I'm going to make it (and believe me, I was worried).  And on top of that, I loved seeing my school friends and old students again, so everything is good to go.

Okay, let me get to the nitty-gritty, hard-earned pregnant advice.  I know you want it, and I learned three very important lessons today:

Eat your whole lunch, no matter what.  Even if you get to your regular lunch room and a runaway special ed student has taken over one of the computers, just eat.  Even if that student then mimics everything that anyone tries to tell him in a high-pitched voice, ignore him, don't fear for your safety, and continue chowing down.  Even if the counselor comes to get the student, takes him to his appropriate room, and he still breaks free and comes back ten minutes later, don't even look up.  Don't try to help.  Don't do anything but shove your mouth full of food, because otherwise, you're going to regret your empty tummy when you get to the middle of 4th period and feel slightly dizzy.  (this may or may not be based on exactly what happened to me today...)

A word about heels.  Don't be 23 weeks pregnant and think that you can still cruise through a day in heels, or even tasteful wedges.  Just give in, get yourself some orthopedic flats and try to hide them under long pants.

Don't be offended if students come to your room and say, "Hey, I made a bet with so-and-so that you'd still be small when you came back, so if you see her, SUCK IT IN." But don't be offended if they don't notice that you're carrying a small basketball, either.

And that's that.  Happy Monday, and thank you Lord for getting me through it!

Those sandals

Today is a great day, and I've been working it, working it, working it, no time to stop all week long.  I'm exhausted!  Having the summer off, paired with pregnancy, is making it difficult to get through just one week of work.  Imagine thinking of an entire semester right now (I refuse to do it).

My classroom is more organized than it will ever be again today.  It's clean (and yes, I did move a bookcase and find that someone either puked or spit tobacco down the wall before I acquired the room) and tidy, and my first three weeks are planned and ready.  And just to celebrate, Milo has decided to start poking my tummy out more than ever, so I look really and truly pregnant this week. 

And by the way, as I got out of the car this morning wearing a less-than-cute pair of maternity shorts, I felt like I had to explain to Nate why I would wear them to work.  "Baby, I'm only wearing these hideous things today so I can wear my nice denim shorts to the assembly tomorrow."  He looked at me completely confused, so I added, "These horrible shorts!"

Without missing a beat he responded, "Oh.  I thought you were talking about those sandals." (insert one raised brow) 

Now I knew that he didn't love these sandals, but I had no idea he thought they were hideous.  And by the way, I think they're adorable - little black gladiator sandals with different kinds of bronzey bling.  But no, come to find out, Nate is practically positive that Russell Crow was wearing these exact sandals in Gladiator when he killed Joaquin Phoenix.

So here's a picture of my cute little foot in my cute little sandals.  What do you think?

The pregnant girl's guide to throwing up

Well, I've learned a thing or two on my puke day on, puke day off schedule.  Let me share, and you can take or leave this brilliant advice.  

1.  Just let it out.  The more you try to hold it in, the more it will try to get out.  And believe me, it will get out, whether it's through your mouth or your nose.  And I'm sure you'd rather go with the former...

2.  Just go ahead and cry when you're finished.  It will make you feel better, and it will make your body feel like it's really accomplished something.

3.  Just chew your food better.  After extensive puking, I've realized that I need to spend a little less time shoving the food into my mouth and a little more time preparing it for my tummy.

4.  Just be calm.  Every time I get worked up, I spend a little more time hugging the toilet.

5.  Just go ahead and eat something, whether you feel sick or not.  Because like it or not, puking up something is better than puking up nothing.  Just the idea of the taste of bile in the morning is enough to make me shudder.    

So there you go.  Happy puking to  you!

It was Ann...

Oh.  My.  Word.  (or as Chloe would say, OMW)
The first day back was even worse than I possibly thought it could be.
My schedule has changed, so it's a mess that involves me teaching 4 periods a day without a break.
I'm getting dropped from helping teach a class that I was really looking forward to.
And somehow or another, it feels like I'm being punished for being pregnant.
I'm supposed to be thinking happy and positive thoughts for the coming semester, right?  Let me know if you have any you'd like to share...

And while you're thinking, I'll just tell you this:  It was ANN who called the cops, not I.

But it was Nate who pointed out how extremely loud the neighbors' party had been since noon, and it was also he who mentioned that it was 1:45 a.m. at that point.  I believe something was also said about the fact that we would have a newborn soon who would need to sleep through the night...

And it was I who woke up from a nap in the recliner annoyed as all get-out because I could hear the loudest woman God created cackling every three seconds...

And it was all three of us who decided to spy on the cops when they did come, and noticed the homeowner smoking a cigarette with one of the officers who showed up (classy).

But if anyone asks, it was Ann who was so annoyed that she pulled out the phonebook and called the cops on the spot.