The Substitute Call

I had the pleasure/torment to be the Pre-K substitute teacher at my children’s school yesterday.  I say it was a pleasure, because I love the interaction with the children.  However, I felt a little tormented because one of the Preschool children is my son.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t love my son or want to be around him.  It’s just hard for my 4-year-old to see me as a substitute teacher, because I am his mom.  So when I am trying to get the kids down for a nap, who do you think gave me the biggest trouble?  Yep, my son.

When we were reading books, who do you think had to sit on my lap?  Yep, my son.  I love that he loves me that much, but it is hard to be a substitute teacher to a class of a dozen or so children who range from 3-years-old to 5-years-old and have your son want to follow you everywhere.  Thankfully, Pre-K has two teachers, so I had an extra teacher there to help me out.

When I say “help me out”, I mean I had another teacher there to step in and instruct my son if he wasn’t listening to me.  Or even detain my son when I had to take another child to the office for a band-aid.  It’s even more helpful that the other teacher just happens to be my son’s Godmother.

So you can imagine the additional challenges this recent work assignment had.  Not that I haven’t helped out in his class before, I have a few times this year.  It’s just comical how I can get one of his classmates to go back on their mat for nap before I counted to five, yet my son would still be dragging his feet by the time I counted to fifty.  That is because the other child doesn’t know how far they can push me, yet my child knows he has tried pushing me to the limits before and I haven’t snapped yet.

It was a good day, all in all, although a little more intense than other substituting jobs.  However, it was later that day that I got a real treat.  I was putting wet laundry into the drier while Christopher was snacking at the kitchen table.  This was the conversation we were having:

Christopher asks, “Where are we going tomorrow?”

I replied, “You go back to Preschool tomorrow.”

Christopher asked, “Where are you going tomorrow?  To Preschool?”

I tell him, “I don’t know.  If they need me to be a sub again, then yes.  But they have to call me first.”

“I want you to be my teacher again.”  he says.

I explain patiently, “I will, if they call me to.  Otherwise, you will have your other teacher back tomorrow.”

“But I want you to go to Preschool with me.”, he says.

“And I will IF they call me.”, I reply back.

Then I hear his little 4-year-old voice call in a sing-song way, “JoAnn, I want you to be my Preschool teacher tomorrow.”

At that moment, I stopped what I was doing, glanced over to my son and started to bust out laughing.  The fact that he called me JoAnn, instead of Mom was the funniest part.  I didn’t know he even knew I had a first name.

Marie walked in about that time and wanted to know what I was laughing about.  As I explained to her the recent conversation I just had with Christopher, I could see my son sitting there at the table, looking very pleased with himself.  He had this grin on his face that showed pure satisfaction for the good job he had just done.  I just love that little man to death.

I would be more than willing to substitute for his class again.  But that is something that is in the school’s hands, not mine.  Besides, if I am his substitute teacher again, then he will most likely have a second day in a row without a nap.  Yep, you guessed it, my son was one of the kids that would not take a nap.  I don’t know why he wouldn’t.  I was more than ready to take a nap that day.  🙂

Batting A Thousand

Well, I’m not really batting, but I did just hit 1,000 hits on my blog.  Thank you all that have found my posts interesting enough to come back for more.  I know that my recent posts have not been as carefree and comical as some of my first posts.  But I can guarantee that if you can hold on  just a little bit longer, my story of Marie’s summer will be so comical you will be peeing your pants from laughing so hard. 8^)    Again, thank you for coming back for more.  It means a lot to me!

{HUGS}

JoAnn Williams

What Would You Do?

I had an unusual thing happen to me the other day at work. I was in the break room early in the morning, getting a glass of water.  That is not the unusual part, although me being to work early is truly a miracle.  🙂  Anyway, I noticed a woman who had a big roller on the top of her head. Now I have seen this woman many times before, but we don’t know each others names. So I was not sure if I should mention to her that she had a roller in her hair or just ignore it. I figured that if I said something to her she might tell me in a rude voice that she knew.  Yet, I couldn’t walk away without saying something.

I said, “Please don’t be offended, but I have to tell you that you have a roller on the top of your head.”  She replied with, “What?”  So I tried to explain it again.  I pointed to my head and said, “You have a roller on the top of your head.”  She reached up and touched her head and she exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, I forgot it was there!  Thank you so much.”  We both started laughing and then she explained that she had remembered it in the car and planned to take it out when she got to work, but had forgotten about it once she got here.  I had told her that I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I was glad I did.  She told me that I was her new best friend.  LOL  Come to find out, she actually works on the same floor as I do, only on the other side.  Now the question is, what would you do?

Spitting Bullets

Have you heard the term “spitting bullets” before? Well, I was at that point this morning. My oldest son Patrick, the apple of my eye, the lovable, sweet, caring, pain in my butt, had me to that point this morning. We had to play the traditional “I’m tired” game when it was time to go to school. He didn’t want to get out of bed, however, neither did the other two. Then, as we are walking out the door 3 minutes late, he discovers it was drizzling out and had to have a coat to wear. However, I have no idea where his coat is. It’s most likely in one of the quarantined bags that was placed in the office back in the spring. (We had a little problem with head lice, but that is another story I will have to tell you about at a later date.)

Anyway, I didn’t think this morning could get much worse, but I was wrong. As I am driving to work, in the light rain, I notice my car has a leak. A leak…inside of the car…not from the window seal…from the LED screen that shows what the temperature is outside. GREAT!!!! And how do you suppose this leak was made? My children, that’s how. They have climbed on top of the van more times than I can count and has obviously cracked the roof somewhere. You know, mini-vans are made out of fiberglass these days, not metal. So it wouldn’t take much for an 8-year-old that weighs at least 50 pounds to crack my van roof. Especially if he got on top of it enough times, which he has. I am not saying that Patrick is the only one that gets on the car. The two girls have done it too. But Patrick is the normal culprit.

So now I don’t only have a van that squeals. (Nope, still haven’t fixed that squeal) But now I have a car that squeals and leaks. I was telling a friend at work that I will probably have to get some caulking and hopefully find the crack so I can cover it up with silicon or something. My friend suggested duct tape. In fact, she said they have so many new colorful duct tapes that you can choose from. LOL I told her that my luck would be that there will be enough spots to cover up that I will probably end up spelling a bad word on my car. Mind you, it would be on the roof of my car, so not many would see it. But with the way my life is going, I would end up putting the letters F. U. on the top of my van with some colorful duct tape. Then the next morning the traffic reporter will report something like this, “There are no backups on our main highways this morning. However, there is a very noisy van driving East bound that has the message ‘F. U.’ on the roof of the car.” LOL Yep, my van would be known as the F. U. van for the rest of my life, all because my son cracked the roof of my van. Now do you see why I was about to spit bullets this morning? This is my life…does anyone want to trade with me?

The Ambulance Ride (Marie’s Story – Chapter 7)

As I mentioned previously, I called my Dad and all of the emotions from the last five hours came pouring out.  In between sobs, I explained to my dad that Marie was about to be transported to The Children’s Hospital because she had a brain tumor.  I honestly can’t remember much more of the phone conversation I had with him.  Except, I do remember asking him to call my siblings and let them know what was going on.  I wanted them all to know, but I didn’t have the time to call them all.  Our conversation didn’t last too long, because I needed to get back to my daughter, but it really helped to hear my Dad’s voice.  If only I could have heard my Mom’s voice too, however, I haven’t figured out how to make a long distance call to Heaven yet.  But believe me, I was talking to the man upstairs and I was telling him that I needed help from him along with the Blessed Virgin Mary and my mother too.  I knew that if anyone could get us through this, it was God and only God.

I got my emotions together and returned back to Marie in time to explain to her that we were going to take a ride in an ambulance.  I told her that the doctor’s thought they knew what was causing her headaches, but they needed to take her to a different hospital to get more tests.  I teased her by saying,  “Really good!  Thanks to you, I have to ride in an ambulance for the first time in my life.”  She laughed and with a grin on her face she replied back with, “I’m sorry.”

This is the thing, I was standing in an emergency room looking at my 11-year-old daughter who had a brain tumor and by the way she was acting you wouldn’t have known it.  Thankfully, the medicine they gave her had stopped her vomiting and her headache was gone.  It made it much easier to keep things light and carefree when I knew Marie was not in any pain at the moment.  However, if she had been vomiting and crying from the headache, like she was earlier in the day, I probably would have been that hospital’s worst nightmare.  They would have been telling their grandkids later in life about the day the hospital was hit by Hurricane JoAnn!  🙂

Humor Under Pressure (Marie’s Story – Chapter 4)

After about 4 hours of waiting in the ER waiting room and several trips outside of the building to get my cell phone to work, Marie was admitted to the ER.  (You know, cell phones are a wonderful thing, unless you are in the bottom floor of a big metal hospital building.  Then they are pretty useless when it comes to making calls and connecting to Facebook.  However, you can still use the camera feature on the cell phone. Who, you may ask, would use a camera in an ER?  Me, that’s who!!!!  But I’ll tell you more about that later.)

Marie changed into a gown and was placed in a hospital bed and then we waited some more.  Thank God Marie’s headache and vomiting had not come back.  I think it was at least 30 minutes to an hour before we saw a doctor.  I don’t recall his name, so we will call him Dr. Hottie!  🙂  I believe Marie was the one that came up with the name, or at least that is the story I’m sticking with, since I am happily married.  {Frank, I love you honey.  ♥}

Is Patrick there?

As I have mentioned before, I have an 8-year-old son named Patrick.  Although he is only eight, I am afraid we have entered a new phase in his life.  It’s called Patrick the Babe Magnet!!!!  At the last day of school, one of his girl classmates asked him for his phone number.  I must have been very tired that day, because I gave her my work number.  Well, school was out for about a week when I get a call on my work phone one morning.  I answered the phone, “ABC Company, JoAnn Williams speaking.” then I hear this little girl’s voice say, “Who?”  I reply back with “JoAnn…Williams…at ABC Company” the girl replies back, “Is Patrick there?”  I answer “No, I am at work and Patrick is not here.”  The girl asks “Could you have Patrick call me?”  I reply, “Not right now, because I am at WORK.”  Then I ask “Is this the phone number he should call you at 999-555-1234?”  She says yes and I tell her that I will give him the message tonight and we say goodbye.

I was very blown away for a few reasons.  First, I can’t believe this girl didn’t hang up when I answered the phone stating my company name.  When I was her age I would have hung up right away.  Actually, I wouldn’t have ever called a boy’s house at this age.  Second, I can’t get it through my head that my son has a little girl calling him.  This is all new to me.  I have an 11-year-old daughter that hasn’t gotten into calling boys.  Heck, she doesn’t even call her friends that are girls.  So I really wasn’t expecting this to happen to my son.  I am not ready for this to happen yet.

Tired Mother

How many of you working moms have nodded off at work, due to lack of sleep?  Its okay to confess it to me, I won’t tell your boss.  I am ashamed to say that it happens to me on a weekly basis.  In fact, it is sort of a joke in my office.  Well, yesterday was one of my worst days in a long time.  My first clue that I needed more sleep was when I poured water into my bowl of cereal by accident.  This wouldn’t be worth mentioning, except while I was doing it; my mind was asking “Should the milk be that clear?”  And then a few seconds later my body reacted and stopped pouring the water.  Thankfully, I discovered my mistake before I took a bite of the cereal.  One of my friends told me later that it might have tasted good.  Now that would be a good way to cut back on milk cost, but I am not willing to test out that theory.  So the milk cost will have to stay the same for now.

My next clue that I was running on empty was when I was riding the elevator at work.  I was yawning and around the time I started opening my eyes, the elevator doors began to open.  I caught my reflection in the moving metal doors and practically jumped out of my skin.  I thought there was someone standing right in front of me.  Now, I hadn’t gone to the restroom yet and did my traditional hairspray routine, but I wasn’t having THAT bad of a hair day.  It’s pretty bad when you scare yourself with your own reflection.  I think the fact that my reflection was so close and moving horizontal might have had something to do with the additional surprise.

Rats!!!!

No, it’s not what you think.  We do NOT have rats.  Last night I went to the performance “Rats!!!” at my children’s school.  They have a play/musical every year and all of the kids are in the performance.  It’s normally quite comical.  This year it was a play about the Pied Piper getting rid of rats in a town.  And yes, you guessed it, my children were the rats.

Actually, my 3 year old, Ann, was a mouse.  She sang “Hickory Dickory Dock” with the Pre-schoolers and they did a great job.  They even had a few hand gestures during the song and they had on little mouse ears.  That is probably the first time I was happy to see a mouse.   🙂