Random Thought Thursday #3-08

Thursday here, and Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has issues. Let's get right to them.

I am OH SO TIRED of these kids expecting me to do their homework for them. Specifically, kids in my remedial-type algebra class. Kids who were told from Day 1, from my mouth and the class syllabus, that I WAS NOT there to help them with their regular algebra homework. I am here to give them extra lessons in the same stuff they do in regular algebra. I give my own work and my own grades. I have told them by mouth and by paper that I can not help them with their other algebra assignments, because it CAN AFFECT THEIR GRADE in that class. Math Crony does not need to know that I can do algebra. She needs to know if the kids are getting it. Which they might be, IF THEY WOULD PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT.

Today, MY CLASS was doing board work for bonus. That means I draw names randomly, and send from 2 to 7 kids to the board at once to see who gets it. The winner stays, possibly qualifying for the finals and bonus. The losers stay while I direct them through their errors step-by-step. I have found this effective for the kids who will turn in paper after paper with wrong answers, yet won't ask for help. But at the board, they will turn around and say, "I really don't get this."

And one copped an attitude because I would not stop what I was doing to help with regular algebra, and another dared say that it was my job to help them. Sweet Gummi Mary! Please, please get me out of 3rd Quarter and the remnants of a full moon. Please. Before I snap! (I had way better details, but it was too identifiable.)


OK, that wasn't so random.

I'm addicted to little chocolate donuts.

Did I tell you that my boy broke the ocean? I can't remember if I told this story, so I'll just do it again. It never stops me in real life. My #1 son has a hard case for his new glasses. It is black, and snaps shut with a vengeance. He had it out in his advisory class the other day, and held it open at his ear. "I hear the ocean." He passed it to his singing partner from the Hillmomba Idol Contest. "Can YOU hear the ocean?" The kid listened. "I hear the ocean. Smelliot, do YOU hear the ocean?" The boys passed it around until one kid was left. He said, "Let ME hear the ocean." My boy held it out to the kid's ear. The kid said, "I hear the ocea--" and my boy snapped that sucker shut right on that kid's ear cartilage. "--nnn, AND IT BIT ME!" the kid screamed. Which I suppose is neither here nor there, except to show how much devil my child really has in him. Today after school, he said the ocean was not snapping like it should. I took a look at it, and fiddled and faddled. "Look, there's a little piece of something there that I haven't noticed before." It was a small metal piece along the hinges. Which promptly snapped and fell under the lining after I snapped the ocean about 20 times. Who knew? The ocean has a limited amount of bites to it.

The Pony is doing well on his horse pills for his UTI. Unfortunately, I nearly scared him out of a year's growth the other night, the night before his doctor's appointment. He had finished some errand for me in my basement lair, and was headed back upstairs. I told him, "Thanks. You're the best helper! I know you don't feel good, but don't worry. We're going to get you fixed." He stopped dead on the steps, and turned and looked at me. I swear I heard a screech like a phonograph needle on 33 1/3 vinyl. His eyes were wide open. And then I sensed what set him off. "Don't worry. I didn't mean 'get you fixed' like the pets." He sighed. "Oh. That's what I thought you meant." Poor little Pony.

Mabel almost had a rumble yesterday. You go, gal!

I've had Hot & Sour Soup for supper two nights in a row. Feel the burn, baby!

There's a pile of papers that need signing from the boys' schools. I hate raising productive members of society. It's so time-consuming! What about ME?

Why did someone send an office worker to my room to tell me that I needed to compete the anonymous survey on school climate? And no other teachers were notified.