Young Republican Take III

An earlier entry I forgot to add:

Today, after the completely misunderstood and terror-inducing AZ law SBwhatever was passed, the Young Republican apparently ran around in the hallways demanding that everyone show him their papers.

"Where are your papers?! HAHA GO BACK TO MEXICO!"

I condemn violence as a method to solve problems....yet I wonder....
How has this kid not gotten his ass kicked?

Promotion

When the principal said my name, a roar emanated from the crowd. Jasmine whooped, a few kids pumped their fists. I grinned like a maniac. After all the hell I'd put them through....they cheered for me. I stood, waved, blew them all a kiss, and sat down content. They got it. No, not the science. I didn't care about that.

It wasn't the garbage-bag & goggle haute couture on Pepsi & Mentos day. It wasn't the dissections or cabbage juice experiments or rocketry. It wasn't the DNA precipitate lab or the Atom Army Chant. They knew that somebody loved them. And I got the feeling they loved me back.

In one of the promotion speeches, Josh (the one who called me the green M&M) said something like "And who could forget Miss J with her spunky yet strict attitude...." I grinned again.

They got me. Down to a T. I hope, hope, hope I got them.

P.s. Another reason my kids are the best? When the student in the wheelchair pushed himself across the stage....they all broke out in applause. My kids are the best.

Yearbook Party

Today the PTA had an ice cream & yearbook signing party for the kids in the cafeteria. I had a notebook they could all leave me notes in, and had a long, ridiculous line of kids waiting for me to write them notes. Most of them were super sweet, telling me I had a really long line, and that I was popular (that's nice....first time in my life I've been popular with 8th graders....) But some of these kids....

Rojas: Mom. Sign my butt cheek.
Me: (calmly, not looking up, signing another student's yearbook) Well, didn't wipe your butt when you're a baby, and I'm not signing it now.
Rojas: Awwww.
Jorge: Miss J, sign my balls.
Me: WHAT?! (neck snaps up, I see him holding two basketballs.)
All of the boys die.

Me: You guys are all sick.
Rojas: You love us.
Jessica: I thought you raised them better, Miss J.
Me: Yeah, me too.

It's a good thing none of these kids ever hear me talking with Mr. B, or they'd all know I'm just as bad if not worse than they are....

The Truth About Mr. B's Toes

B's Electron: Why are you wearing those? (Points to his shoes with disdain)
Me: B got in a terrible accident and lost a couple of his toes a few years ago.
Electron: Eew! (totally believes me)
Me: You won't ever find him wearing sandals. What, three toes lost, B?
Mr. B: Yup. Not pretty.
Me: I heard it was a random camel accident.
Mr. B: Yeah, I hate those camel toe accidents.
Me: (dies)



It's a good thing the kids all lose interest in whatever we're blathering before it gets to this point....

This Year's Adoptees

I love my kids. They are the best. Some of them need a little more mothering than others, so I have this habit of pretend-adopting them, and calling some of them my children. Naturally, this allows me to pretend ground them, tell them I'm 'turning this car around,' say obnoxious things like "under my roof...." Of course, they also get to follow suit and say things like "Moooooom, she's LOOKING at me!"

What's interesting, is that they love it. They take this immense pride in being my "children." Which, I guess is the best compliment I could get.

Each day, my family-within-a-family grows a little bigger. And they get fiercely loyal about me, which is hilarious.

I've got the "twins"-- Senia and Castro (who are not at all related, but are both adorably small and equally feisty) who argue over who gets to hold the door open for me and who I fake ground on a daily basis for fighting with each other. ("Castro! Be nice to your sister!")

Then, I've got Rojas, who yesterday told me his mother wasn't going to promotion--something about how he wasn't worth her time-- and asked if I could be his mother too. I asked Castro, and he cleared it. Yes, he could handle another brother.

Rojas, my emo-child, has a perfectly sheepish laugh, which he's constantly emitting from behind his long, red-highlighted hair (which, I learned he flat irons every day.....). Today, he constantly apologized for accidentally making off with my sun-brella so he could make out with his girlfriend. (This got him stuck in ISS for the rest of the day with said 'brella)

After school, Rojas walks in, umbrella in hand, laughing his sheepish laugh....
Me: You are the reason I'm a lobster! Look at this! I'm burnt."
Rojas: Yeah you are (pokes my shoulder), but look at how much fun we can have poking you now.
Me: Stop touching me. You're grounded.
Rojas: But.... I brought it back your umbrella.....
Me: Fine! You are not grounded. But you are on thin ice, buddy!
Rojas: (sheepish) Thanks mom!
Me: (grumble, grumble) Damn right.....

And then there's Bryan, my little leprechaun who brought me a picture of him as a very young child, in his baptism outfit, crying his head off. Looks at me with huge doe eyes and bats his lashes.

Bryan: Will you adopt me too???? Pleeeeease?

How can I say no to a kid who taught me how to shake my hips like "Yeah"?
Besides, at least this one just shakes his butt...but doesn't ask me to sign it. More on that later....

Air Gerome

We finished shooting off our rockets today, and the kids decided they needed to do acrobatics.

The kids: Miss J. Gerome can jump over people.
Me: What? Like leap frog?
Kids: Yeah, but when you're standing. We're gonna do it.
Me: Um.... that sounds like a terrible idea....
Gerome: I can do it, Miss J! Don't worry!

I wasn't happy....but when Gerome tells me he can do something I know three things.

1. He can.
2. I won't get sued because
3. Gerome's family loves me

So, what did I learn?

I learned that Gerome can, in fact, jump over not just ME..... but 4 people standing, all squished into each other in a line. With no trampoline. EASILY. For those of you who don't know Air Gerome.... he can't be taller than 5." Wearing shoes, I'm about 5'6". The kid's good at EVERYTHING. Ladies love him, smart, confident but not cocky.....always emerges with the basketball like its a baby out of an inferno....

This kid is amazing. My class's explanation:

"Well, he's Filipino. That's why he can jump like that."
"What?! No. That is not it. Gerome's just a super star who stays in shape."
"No, Miss J. It's cuz he's Filipino."
"Okay, so by that logic, the reason you guys don't do your work is 'cuz all Mexicans are lazy?"
"Yeah!!"
"ERRONEOUS!"

They just laugh at me. Gerome doesn't though. Maybe 'cuz he's Filipino. :)

Not Piggybacking....

Today, we were out on the field, playing a softball tournament that our awesome gym teacher set up. One of my kids, Jerry, was quite proud of one of his particularly impressive catches. Jerry, let me mention, is NOT an ELL kid and is in my gifted class. He is often hilarious. Today, he had no idea that he made my day....

Jerry: So, there I was! Leg up like this, arm stretched out like thiiiiis and BAM! Caught it! Like this! (All stretched out and awkward) Doggy-style!
Mr. B: ...Doggy-st.....
Jerry: Yeah! (gets caught up in another conversation)
Mr. B:....did he have any idea what he just said?
Me: Nope. (kids meander away)
Mr. B: Was that the game where your team came from behind?

Again. We're both going to get fired.