Blog, I have neglected thee...

I'm so sorry, o loyal readers of my blog, for not taking the time to post all the great stuff I've stumbled upon this summer. Actually, a lot of what I haven't posted really has to do with my laziness in hooking my phone up to my computer and transferring pictures. That project is now done, however, so I can share this bounty with you. Let's recap, shall we?

This is actually from way back in January when we had the "THE GREAT SNOWFALL OF 2009" (we might have had all of three inches). I had never seen a double-decker school closing runner before. They are serious here about their snow.



This we saw in a parking lot not too long ago. Yeah, it's a little antiquated, but it's still funny.



A while back, we met for lunch at a restaurant downtown called "Saffron." It is a cute little Greek bistro (is there such a thing?) and they have several items on their menu that are vegan-friendly. But the next time I need to have something professionally printed, remind me not to hire the folks who did their menu: It's a little blurry, but notice "Greek Pasta Slald."

Patrons can also enjoy the Kudzu Corner, which comes in a "Spinach warp."



Another restaurant we discovered was the "Mellow Mushroom," which is a locally owned chain of pizza places (plus tons of other great items) that celebrates the 60's. Not the raw, gritty aspect so much as the fun, wacky, psychedelic aspect. I caught this sign in my search for the potty.



The "Grease" DVD came in a little leather jacket. What more is there to say? And the back has the "T-Bird" sign printed on it. I bought it right away.



The mall was really cold that day.



You know that children's book "Walter, the Farting Dog?" Well, there he is, the live-action figure.

He farts when you squeeze his belly.



And finally, I walked into church get some organ practicing done a couple of days ago, and I took a little time to check the information kiosk to see what new things might be going on in the life of the church.
Thank the Lord! What would the Lutheran Church be without a small contingent of concealed weapon permit holders standing by?

Summertime Fun

Yesterday was my birthday, and since I still had to watch my summer girl, I decided that we would just take it easy and do something that I wanted to do. So we went shopping.

To her credit, my summer girl is a good little shopper. She enjoyed walking through the boutiques and looking at the pretty jewelry and purses. Sometimes there would be a statue of a dog or a little boy that she'd comment on. She was very good about being careful in "fragile stores," asking for my help if she wanted to see something. She loved the pet store (duh), and enjoyed the chocolate chip cookie I let her have while I ate my soup. Overall, she was very content going to all of my stores, as long as I allowed her a little time to explore as well.

As we walked from store to store she pretty much carried the conversation. She loves to talk with me, which is wonderful, but I admittedly glaze over from time to time. I have learned the cues, though, for when I am to respond.

"Oh, yeah?"
"Really?"
"You don't say..."
"That's so cool!"

So there we were at the outdoor mall, strolling between stores, and she says to me very casually,

"There's the American Idol Car."

"Oh, yeah?" I respond. "That's so cool!"

Hey, wait. The what?

I turned to see what car we had just passed. There, right at her eye level, was a shiny pearl white truck. And in the space where the front license plate should have been was a decorative plate with the make logo in the dead center:

Playing Hotel

Yesterday I was trying to get a few chores done while taking care of my summer little girl. As I unloaded the dishwasher, she asked me if I could come play "beach vacation" with her and her doll friends who had already started this adventure and been sprawled across the couch catching some rays since I had arrived. Instead of just refusing to play, I decided that I'd try to include her in what I was doing, hoping that this might cushion the blow later in the day when I knew I'd have to tell her to entertain herself. Instead I offered to be the "hotel manager" in charge of the hotel where her and her friends were staying. This worked out well, as there is a counter between the kitchen and the living room in her house with another couch in front of it that she loves to climb on.

She bounced up to the counter with her baby and announced that she would like a hotel room.

"Absolutely, ma'am," I chirped. "How many beds would you like?"

"Just one," she responded.

"Will you be needing a crib?" I asked, referencing her baby.

"No."

"No?" I asked again. "Not for your baby?"

"No," she affirmed.

I let it go.

"Alright," I continued, "would you like a king-sized bed or a queen-sized bed?"

She thought for a minute and arrived at a decision.

"I would just like a daughter-sized bed."

I stifled my laughter, swiped her "credit card," had her sign her "bill," and sent her back to the beach.

Playing Doctor

My husband and I spent last weekend remodeling our bedroom (and we STILL have some finishing touches to add...will it never end?!?!?). As a consequence, the rest of the house was neglected all weekend and looked like a disaster. So, I decided that this week the little girl that I'm watching and I would spend a day at my house so that I could catch up.

I don't have a lot at my house for the little kids, so I had her bring several of her favorite toys, which included 3 baby dolls and a doctor's kit. And, of course, there's always the allure of Sam the dog.

As I folded laundry, girl quickly went through all of her toys and decided that she and Sam were going to play hospital. Okay. Have at it. Of course, Sam just kind of laid there and let her pick on him, as she applied fake bandages and took his temperature. He rolled over a couple of times for a belly rub, but was left disappointed.

Then she asked me, "where are his knees?" holding that little reflex hammer in her hand.

"Well," I replied, "He's got four of them."

"Four knees?" she asked, surprised. "We only have two knees."

"That's right," I again replied, "but he's got four legs, so that means he has four knees. See them there on his legs?"

She examined him closely. "Oh...okay."

"But when we tap his knees we have to do it very gently, don't we? Because we don't want Sam to get mad and not play with us," I warned.

"Okay," she answered.

Then, she carefully approached Sam and looked him over. As instructed she very softly tapped his right hind leg. Then she walked to his other side and softly tapped his left hind leg.

She then, very gingerly, tapped his penis.

Sam...God bless him

I've just started watching a little girl during the daytime hours for the summer. She's one of my preschool students, so her mom knows that I've got lots going on in the area of music. So today, since her mom had the day off and had planned to watch a friend's children, she wondered if she could come to my house for a couple of hours so the children could have some music time.

Sure! We've got enough instruments and cool music stuff to keep them occupied for a little while. I was a little worried, though, because at this point most of my kid friendly music stuff is at school. And I had just put everything away for the summer, so I wasn't about to drag it all home. What would we do for two hours that would keep a 3 year old girl, 5 year old boy, and 9 year old girl entertained?

As it turned out, I didn't have to worry about any of it, because from the minute they walked in the door they were concerned with one and only one thing:

Mr. Sam.

We tried to get them interested in Josh's trombone, and I had filled a bunch of wine bottles with water (so that you blow across them and get different pitches), but all of that lasted about a total of 30 seconds. Finally, the mom and I gave up and just talked for a while and let them play in the other room with Sam. When we came to check on them, this is what we found:


They had made Sam a fort. Wasn't that just so nice of them?

There he is, defeated and humiliated, buried under our entire collection of couch and chair pillows. What a great sport!

He's now sleeping.

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.

Just in case you forget...

I went on a little road trip yesterday to go visit an organ dealer, as our church is considering a new organ for the sanctuary. Before we left, I asked to use the restroom, as we had about an hour's drive ahead of us. I couldn't resist a quick picture of the little sign on their bathroom door:



Yeah, I'm always forgetting to shut the door when I have to pee in public restrooms. Thank goodness for the sign!

BFF (Beethoven's Favorite Foods)

This month in music we're studying styles of music. Last week was classical music week, and since we have been using "Ode to Joy" to illustrate a LOT of musical concepts lately, I decided that if I was going to teach them about one classical composer it would be Beethoven. So to make learning about Beethoven a little bit more fun, I made a little power point presentation with pictures and sound effects so that my "lecture" would sound more like a story. The power point kept the kids' interest pretty well (largely because they like to do things with the lights off), especially when we got to the part about Beethoven's favorite foods.

I started by asking them "What do you think Mr. Beethoven's favorite foods are? (they throw out a couple of guesses). You think so? Let's see..."

Then I hit the space bar on the keyboard and the following picture slides up from the bottom accompanied with the sound of a crowd of people saying "mmmmmmmmmm!":


They excitedly yell "Macaroni and Cheese!!!!! ('That's my FAVORITE!' 'That's my favorite TOO!' 'ME too!')

Then the next picture:

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"Coffee!!!!!" they all yell. No one claims this as their favorite.

Picture number 3:

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"FISH!!!!!"

Then the last picture, egg and bread soup, which I accompanied with the sound of a man disgustedly saying "eeeewwwww!":


This confused them. They all studied the screen for several seconds, their little faces scrunched in thought. Then one brave boy, serious and concerned, broke the silence.

"Throw up."

John Deere Buck

There is a 3-year-old boy (we'll call him Peter) at preschool who talks all the time about his John Deere Buck. I didn't even know John Deere made something called a Buck, but here it is:

What's so funny about this is not the fact that he's a little talker. And it's not even what he says that cracks me up, but how he says it. And the only way for you all to understand what I mean was to somehow have a recording of it. *angels singing* "And God said, 'let there be an Iphone with a recording app.' And it was so." :) So I just happened to ask if he rode his tractor over the weekend, and here is our conversation: (I have included a transcript, as it's funnier when you actually know what he's saying.)

Hold the ctrl key and click here to listen. (It'll come up in a new tab so you can read and listen at the same time. You might have to click on the second tab to get it to start, then click on the first tab to read.)

Peter: I actually drove my John Deere Buck at my Grama and Grampa's. There's kinda rocks near my Gram...Grampa has a little shed that's beside a little playground, and I drove my Buck past it on fast speed on the...on fast speed on the rocks. There's kinda rocks.

Me: Did you drive it by yourself or did somebody help you drive it?

Peter: I just have to put it on just the gas pedal and I just...

Me: You just go?

Peter: Yeah. Well, it's kinda electric.

Me: 'Lectric? 'Lectric John Deere? It doesn't take any gas?

Peter: Naw. Just the gas pedal.

Me: Just the gas pedal.

Peter: Yeah, the gas pedal. It's not really real...It really does go pretty fast on its fast speed.

Me: Yeah?

Peter: Yeah. Well, my tractor actually needs...my tractor needs to be charged.

Me: Yeah? It's out of battery?

Peter: (nods)

Me: Yeah.

Peter: Yeah, so that's a fast one, too. Grampa has a little four-wheeler. It only goes on slow speed.

Me: What, the tractor or your John Deere Buck?

Peter: Um, well, my John Deere Buck goes slow speed, and back up, and fast, and then...well...Grampa's (not sure what he said here) Buck is kinda...just goes pretty slow. Just on slow.

Me: It's just a slow one? You can't go real real fast with that one?

Peter: Naw.

R.I.P. Mr. Goodbar

Josh happened to catch this sad event down the block the other day:


So long, Mr. Goodbar. We salute you.

Not Funny, just a note...

Hey, ever'body! I just wanted to point you to the new feature of my blog, the "followers" section (to your left). If you read my blog regularly, go ahead and list yourself as a follower, just so I know. I do have a tracking program, but it doesn't tell me who. Just where the person is from. Plus, I throw my numbers all the time because I check my own blog for comments. :(

There's a Penguin in the Bathroom!

At preschool, part of my duties include maintaining the library/workroom. Today was one of my library days, so I spent much of my time organizing and tagging books.

Next door to the library is a 4-year-old classroom. I like to listen in on what they're doing, because they happen to be the cutest class in the entire preschool. Today, the director of the preschool made a special visit to their class for a very important announcement, and this is what I heard:

Director: "Boys and girls, there is no longer a penguin in the bathroom. We have moved the penguin, and it's not in the bathroom anymore."

You'd think that at this point I would just start cracking up. Instead, my face got super hot and I'm sure turned beet red, and my heart fell through my stomach, for, you see, it was my penguin in the bathroom.

Let's back up...this is my penguin Pally:


I use him for some of the games that we play in several of my classes. Here's the problem...I can't keep him in the room when the two-year-olds are in there because he drives them beyond distraction. They won't do anything else as long as he's watching them. And even though Wednesday is largely a library day, I do have one two-year-old class first thing in the morning. So this morning I dropped him off in the bathroom and went about my two-year-old class.

Then I forgot about him.

Obviously this caused quite a stir as I gathered from the little announcement the director made to the k-4 class. Afraid that I'd be "talked to" about it, I made myself scarce until it was time for my next (and last) class of the day. As I returned to my classroom, however, I ran into our snack lady (nutrition coordinator, and believe me, she does a lot more than just fix snacks.) in the hall. She opened her mouth to, I was sure, bring up the incident, so I beat her to the punch.

"I overheard," I told her. The she just started laughing. Figuring I must not be in too much trouble, I relaxed and asked her what happened. "Did it scare the kids?" I asked.

Now, I need to preface this with a little information. That k-4 class by the library is the only k-4 class on the first floor, and the only classroom on the first floor without a bathroom in it. AND the classroom is too far from the public bathrooms on the first floor to just let the kids go by themselves. So every time one of them has to use the potty, the teacher has to radio down to our snack lady (Whose kitchen is next to my room and right by the bathrooms) to come escort the child to the bathrooms.

So our snack lady brought one child to the bathroom and he just thought that penguin was the coolest. She explained why it was there, he went on about his business, and she returned him to the classroom. No sooner did she return to the kitchen and she got another radio call that someone else needed to use the bathroom. So back down the hall she went to go get the second kid. Again, the child was wowed by the penguin. And, as with the child before, pottied and returned to the classroom. Now a THIRD call came in on the radio. Back down the hall she went, suspicious, but dutiful. She confirmed her suspicions when the third child was directed to the second bathroom (there are two) and said, "no wait! I wanna use the first one."

As the kids don't generally have special bathroom requests, she knew what was going on and talked to our director. And thus, the important announcement.

All ended well, though, as Pally is back in my room, safe and sound, and I didn't get "talked to" at all by our director. :)

Happy Valentines Day!

I know...I'm a big fat cheater because my awesome funny blog entry is just the address of someone else's blog. But you've GOT to check this out, if for nothing else, the portrait of Cupid. I was Googling for cupid pictures that I could use in my class, and the picture from this blog came up in my search results. I just had to see where it came from, so I clicked and was led to this blog:

http://shakeyourfist.blogspot.com/2006/02/screw-cupid.html

The song links don't work anymore, but just the titles were enough to send me rolling.

Terrible Two's

At preschool I teach music to 2, 3, 4, and 5-year-olds. Today was one of my 2-year-old class days. There are three classes of 6 students going on at once, and this is the only age group where they combine classes for music. Do the math...yes. 18 2-year-olds for 1/2 an hour. It's fun, but keeping them entertained is a challenge. And sometimes the only way I can keep them on task is by letting them have a little wiggle room within my plan to do what they want to do.

For this group, I try to find songs that allow the kids to make up their own verses. Some of them are still learning how to talk, let alone sing, and this keeps their interest a lot longer. Since it's January, we've been singing "The Snow is Falling Down."

(To the tune of "The Farmer In the Dell")
The Snow Is Falling Down,
The Snow Is Falling Down,
The Snow is Falling everywhere,
The Snow Is Falling Down.

After we've sung the first verse (with snow-fingers), I very enthusiastically ask them, "Where else do we see the snow when it falls?" Inevitably, they all yell their ideas at once over and over again until I pick one out of the air and we sing that verse.

"The ROOF!"

Okay....

The Snow is on the roof,
The Snow is on the roof,
The Snow is Falling everywhere,
The Snow is on the roof.

"Where else do we see the snow when it falls?"

"The CARS!"
"The SLIDE!"
"The SWINGS!"
"On an ELEPHANT!"
"On our NOSE!"
"On our HEAD!"

So we proceeded to sing through all of these verses, each one with it's own special motion. We had to put a moratorium on the use of body parts, however, when I asked "Where else do we see the snow when it falls?" and one little girl stuck her chest proudly in the air and shouted:

"Our BOOBIES!"

Mr. Goodbar's Little Brother

Alright...not even a day after I posted the blog about Mr. Goodbar, his new little brother showed up in their driveway:


No, no. That isn't just a shadow. That is a sweet fade from burnt orange to royal purple. This one looks like it's not quite as refined as Mr. Goodbar, as there are a few dents and dings. BUT, the wheels are certainly very special.

I suppose I can't point too many fingers because Lord knows the car I used to drive wasn't nearly as nice or fun as these guys. Mine was a mint green '78 Oldsmobile with a dent in the back door which included a lime-green paint scrape. And honestly, I wouldn't turn down a chance to take Mr. Goodbar around the block. :)

Mr. Goodbar

This car has been living down the street from us for the past few months, and I just had to share:

I didn't know what to think of it at first, and still don't, really. I just look at it and think, "why?" Everything about it...the paint job, the ginormous wheels, the make and model. Was this intended to be some sort of a race car? How much money was put into restoring this gem? And he drives it! To real places! Does he ever forget that he's two entire feet above the earth and fall out of the car? Does it have hydrolics? Or nitrous? Maybe the engine takes chocolate instead of oil.