Where everybody knows your name

Josh and I took a day-trip to Charlston, which is a really neat town. It's older, well kept and has boatloads of charm. Of course, when older buildings and cities are well kept, it usually means that the elite folks live there, as they're the only ones with enough money to keep it looking fabulous.

We found evidence of this on our walk through the city. We browsed through expensive shops, we passed really nice hotels and restaurants, but this just sent me rolling on the sidewalk:


It's a day spa for the men!

Now, fellas, I don't begrudge any of you your well deserved "me-time," and if pedicures and massages is how you want to spend it, more power to you! It's the fact that they're calling it a barberspa. "Oh, it's a barberspa? Well, that's different than a regular day spa. Because it's barber. Let's go, guys!"

And then to call it "Gents." Sounds a little unsavory to me. A wellness club called Gents...Sorry, my brain goes to gentlemen's club.

I'm sure it's a fabulous way to spend an afternoon. But really guys, if you want a massage, just man up and go to the same place your wife goes. I promise we won't bite.

The great crayon debate

I remember in third grade there was a boy who called crayons "crowns." At first I didn't know what he was talking about, and then I wasn't sure why he was calling these colorful sticks of wax the same name at the shiny metal thing kings wore on their heads. I think I even asked my mom about it once, and ultimately we just decided he must have a speech impediment and we let it go.

So here I am, 22 years later, and I have encountered the great debate yet again in one of my three-year-old classes. We were playing a game called "The Bear Went Into the Woods," where we sing a song while each student takes turns going "into the woods" (into the classroom) and finding a treasure to bring back to the circle. It can be anything in the room. Most students like to get a musical instrument and bring it back. Sometimes they get creative and bring a stuffed animal or something. I always ask them to tell me what they brought back, because if they should so happen to pick up an instrument, it's extra practice if they can identify it.

So today (apparently for the first time in this class) someone brought back a crayon.

"So what'd you bring back?" I asked.

"A CROWN!" the student replied.

Alright. Seeing as how most of them can barely speak clearly anyway at 3, I figured she just needed a little help.

"A crayon?" I corrected her, pronouncing it "cran."

Oh, dear. This started a war. Another girl joined in. "No, a cray-ON!" She exclaimed, emphasizing the "on."

Then we got all kinds of participation.

"Crown!"

"Cray-own!"

"Cray-yan!"

"Tway-yan!"

I was being attacked. And when I tried to move on and keep playing the game, wouldn't you know the next girl picked a crayon? I finally had to tell our "cray-ON" advocate that I believed her because she would not let it go. After crayon wars, part two, the last person had had her turn and I changed the game.

Good thing it's the end of the year and I have no more plans to include crayons in the rest of my lessons.

NEWSFLASH, NEWSFLASH!!!

Hey, y'all! I have a NEW blog that you should check out: "Crackin' My Veggies Up" at http://veganpancake.blogspot.com/. It chronicles my new life as a vegan. Sometimes funny, sometimes just interesting. Have a look-see!

"You got to MOVE it, MOVE it!"

Last week in preschool was "percussion week" on our month long journey through the instrument families. Each instrument family has "rules," like criteria you have to meet to belong to the club. To be in the brass family you have to be 1) made of metal, 2) have 3 buttons, and 3) you have to go "ppppppppp" to play it (they love to do this - imagine that). To be in the string family you have to 1) have strings, and 2) pluck or bow the strings to play them. Sometimes the families will feel sorry for certain instruments and allow them into the club even though they break the rules, but overall the rules stand firm.

So I started each class this week explaining the rules of the percussion family, which only had one rule - you have to hit it or shake it. Since this was such an easy rule, I went ahead and asked them what kinds of instruments would be percussion instruments. In most classes, the kids went right for the instruments that we've already talked about in class, such as a drum, triangle, xylophone, maracas, etc. Then I would lead them to figuring out that we can use pretty much anything as a percussion instrument, like the floor or a garbage can or something fun.

Remember my cute class from the penguin blog? Well, here they are making blog news again. When I asked them what kind of things could be percussion instruments, right away they went for non conventional items. In fact, the first answer I got was:

"WE can be percussion instruments, because we can hit us AND we can SHAKE it!"

It's Mini!

If you read my "Jack In the Box" post from a few months ago, then you know how much I hate their food. They must be throwing all their money into their ad campaign, though, because this commercial is a riot! And since all my Illinois friends probably haven't seen it (consider yourselves blessed to not have JITB's in your area), here it is for your viewing pleasure:

Ad tactics

I have recently decided to give vegetarianism a try again. But not the way I did it last time where I only excluded actual meat, and instead lived on pasta and cheese and sugar. No, no. I'm actually excluding ALL animal product from my diet and replacing milk and hamburger with rice milk and tofu. I don't know how long it will last, but for the time being I'm enjoying trying new foods and I'm losing a little weight, so right on.

I was a little nervous about doing it at first because I thought that Josh would just kind of roll his eyes and think the whole idea was just another silly phase, but he's been very supportive. In fact, last night at the grocery store he even decided to try trading in his regular chocolate milk for soy chocolate milk (which he says is pretty good!). Since I had gotten rice milk last time I didn't pay attention to what was on the soy milk carton until now:



I suppose that's one way to boost sales.

"Well, the carton says to 'buy often,' so I guess I better go out and get some more."

Time keeps on slippin' (slippin', slippin')

Throughout the month of March in preschool we learned about Classical Music, Marching Music, Big Band Music, and last week it was Rock & Roll Music. In preparing for this lesson, it occurred to me that some of these kids may have never seen a record before (*gasp!*). So I got out the record player and a record and made this the introduction to our "sock hop" (they all wore crazy socks and danced to 50's and 60's dances for a half-hour. Cute.).

First I asked them what those big black circles were that I had taped to my cabinets:

"Disks!"
"CD's!"
"Wheels!"

Then I told them what they were and asked if anyone had seen them before. And, if they had seen them, do you know what the top answer was? "At my granny's house!" Now, I don't doubt that Granny has a record player, but gollllyyyy...how old am I? All of my treasured childhood recordings were on 33 1/2's.

Then I opened up the record player and showed them the needle and the turn table. Awestruck and curious, they patiently watched me unsheathe the record from it's sleeve.

"Whoaaaaaaa," they chorused.
"Is that a real one?" one child asked.

"Yes, that's a real one," I responded.

"Can I touch it?" another one asked, wide-eyed.

"No," I replied. "You can't touch it because if it gets finger oils on it, it won't play anymore."

"Ooooohhhhh."


Yeah, I don't wish for the record player to make a comeback or anything, but when you think about it, wasn't it cool to be a part of the time period when the record was a thing? And we got to experience that as an actual part of our lives, not just as an antique we saw one day in music class. I think, neato.