All that action twirling, twirling

Published September 7, 2014 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

If I had to describe this past week in a word, INSANE covers it. Fortunately, while the week was insane, I survived mostly intact. ( I say mostly because my ankles and feet were so sore yesterday it felt like I was walking on bricks instead of feet and I injured my vocal cords to the point that my voice dropped half an octave for a full 24 hours.)

Here is a brief overview:

I was filled with hope and joy after hearing that my class was a favorite, and that my crazy is viewed as a good thing.  The other side of that is that no one wants to transfer out of that class to reduce the number. In fact, two people who transferred out, want back in. This is all well and I good, I love my students. It’s just that there is 43 of them. At one time. In one accoustically challenged room.

The meeting I attended about upcoming productions did very little to reassure me and quite a bit to make me practice the slow breathing so I don’t have a nervous breakdown thing.  The meeting was also attended by my former  Arch-Nemesis. She had not heard the details of EH and the Adulteress (Coming soon, starring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, Executive Producer, Chelsea Handler. I gave her the highlights.

Her response: You deserve better.

Universe, are you listening? I can give you directions and GPS coordinates

That made me feel a little less like melting down.

Meltdown got a reboot when I got home at 7 PM and realized that unless I went to the store on the way home the next day, it would be highly likely that I would have to take a bag of frozen cauliflower for lunch.

Many, many things happened. There were three minor altercations in my classroom, nothing major and nothing violent just some bubbles that needed to be popped. That all worked out ok.

I also got two hugs (Side of course because we aren’t allowed to provide any affection to our students.  Both of these hugs were student initiated and I will not, shall not, won’t not refuse a child’s hug.)

The highlights of the week were the tidbits of hilarity that were sprinkled out over the two day review of the origins of theater:

“Don’t start without me; I’m the goddess of Beauty.”

” Is this part of your play, or are you just being a pain?”

” Get out of my scene or I will cut you.”-Delivered with a crisply perfect British Accent.

and my hands down favorite moment, Caveman wanting Cavewoman to leave the skin on the Sabertoothed Tiger when she cooked it to lock in the flavor.  She wanted to remove the skin and roast it on a dry grill.

The week wrapped out with the sixth and seventh grade Howdy Dance.

I offered to help out because I actually like that kind of thing and I probably won’t have much time near productions to help out anyone.

The dance was interesting.   It’s amazing how little things change. Girls still roamed in packs. Boys still refused to dance, but wandered about trying to figure out who was taken and who was available. The first incident of someone storming tearfully out of the Gym happened forty-five minutes in.  It was a boy. There were three other tearful exits, at least one Best Friend facilitated break-up and two wonderful things that almost defy description.

The dance was attended by a tiny little cowboy. He was a sixth grader who hasn’t hit his growth spurt. He was the perfect blue-jeaned-white-shirt-brown-boot-wearing cowboy. He also apparently did the worm dead center on the dance floor. I was keeping kids from bringing in food or drinks (I actually body-checked one kid who tried to sneak by with a Dr. Pepper. Not on my watch.) so I didn’t get to see it. When the tiny cowboy exited for refreshment, he politely bowed as he walked past, giving me a respectful, “Ma’am.”

It was so cute I wanted to plotz.

The second wonderful thing happened when I was watching the girl’s bathroom. (If four or more girls went in, I had to stand in the open door. ). One of my students came by and introduced me to her friend. They remarked with amazement that some sixth grade girls were actually going with sixth grade boys. As if on cue , one of the breaking up couples whimpered by. My student tossed a handful of Skittles in her mouth and said, “I don’t know what the big deal is. Some guy invited me to come here tonight.  I came. He’s not here. Big deal, I have my friends.”  Her friend agreed with her. They clinked their cans of soda and chomped happily.

I wish I was that smart when I was in the sixth grade


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