For a moment like this...

It's in the evening, it's pouring down rain, and cheerleaders are huddled amidst the sprinkles waiting for parents to arrive. I see him coming towards me, with that same big smile I remember him having when he was only 12 and a scared 7th grader walking in and out of my door every day. He approaches me, arms open wide and gives me a big hug. "You remember me don't you?" He asks. "Remember you!?" I say with a laugh, "How could I NOT? I remember every single one of my babies!" "Well...", he says, "I didn't know if you would remember me or not, since I am in high school now, some teachers do that. They forget who you are, and when you see them in public or at the store or something they act like they have no idea who you are. I was scared you wouldn't remember me, and if that happened, I would be real sad. You were my favorite teacher here, and we were real tight. You were always there for me not just for help when I didn't understand things, but you cared for me too as a person... I never got the chance to thank you for that." (Can you already see the tears? YES!) I. was. speechless. This is why I do what I do folks. For moments like this. Glimmers of time when I see students have successes in their futures. For them to come back, and remember what I taught them... to let me know that I really did make a difference in their lives... and they say teachers don't make a lot. Really? Is your job as rewarding as mine? I bet it isn't. I make kiddos believe in themselves for the first time, when people (maybe even their OWN parents) tell them they are worthless... I capture a child's heart and mind and help them discover just how smart they really are. I give them the tools to be successful, productive people in society. I help them to understand the value of hard work. What do you do? Work behind a desk, chomping numbers while drinking your Starbucks making 6 figures a year? That's great and all... But in the end, I am the richer person.

Loving life, loving my job.

Thank you God for calling me to be a teacher. Continue to work through me to bless the lives of all the babies I touch each day. Help me to help them realize the value they truly have here on Earth. Keep it comin'... I am truly blessed!

Bring on Tuesday folks! I'm ready!

Little Miss Muffet...

Little Miss Muffet
Laid on her Tuffet
Sleeping the morn away...

Along came a text
From Mr. Muffet ... About the Spider that lived in the wreath on the porch...

Her web had been growing for weeks and weeks, yet she never showed her face...

We found the remnants of her carnage... ensuing an irreversible sleep to those crossing her path...

 poor Cicada...

In the end she lost, we sprayed her with some bug sauce... and now SHE is the one sleeping on the porch.

 (EEEK! This is post carnage after a liberal spray with bug spray... This is ALL body... the tennis ball gives you a little perspective on the size.)

 

Yep... Tell-tale red hour glass on the tummy... this is one mean biatch. Scary thing is, There is no telling how long it was living on my porch, with many nights entering with the porch light off... *shivers* GROW-DEE.... Yet, how cool is that?

Random thoughts... and such

1. Why is it that sheep don't shrink when it rains on a hot day, but if my sweater is wet and gets a little warm, I can't wear it anymore?

2. Why is it that strange little children come up to me in public and ask me questions? Does something magical happen when you become a teacher? Do you gain a certain "school smell" that attracts strange kids?

3. Why don't people accept good advice from someone experienced?

4. Why is humor and sarcasm such a big deal to some people? Are there just people in this world that "don't get it?" Will they ever "get it?" and if they don't... can I send them to live on their own island?

5. Is it acceptable to punch random annoying people in the face? Or is a stink eye perfectly acceptable? What if they don't get the stink eye... See #4. I am sure they are the same type of people.

6. There some people that should not even think about reproducing... I think all the condoms the government wants to dish out to Kindergartners and school children should be sent UPS express to these individuals. With a color fold out of instructions, and why they are doing society a favor. (Yes.... you may be offended by this one. But you KNOW there is someone you have seen/know/are related to that falls in this category...)

7. There are some people in this world that need to realize that grammar and correct speech save lives... especially in my presence. 

8. It feels good to be on my soap box sometimes.. I should do it more often. At the moment, my darling baby thinks it's a good idea to have an ice cream cone. While in the future, I am sure I will say no, because it will ruin her dinner... but seeing as how I could devour a whole Brontosaurs solo at the moment.... I think she has a great idea.

peace, love, ice cream and pickles...

hormonal pregnant rants are awesome.

A baby! What?... A baby?

Yes, that's right. There is going to be a baby in JFTB land, and that baby happens to be mine! You can imagine over the course of 3 months how hard it has been to not want to just sign in and blog about every little moment. Well, some people I know are quick to jump the gun and want to tell the world they are having a baby before the pee on the pregnancy test is dry... I feel, however, a practical approach to things is sometimes best, and I'm glad I did. For one, I have discovered that when you officially tattoo your forehead "I'M PREGNANT" every woman over the age of 50 has some horror story to tell you, or they want to talk about their pregnancy or this and that, breast this, blood and guts... blah blah blah.

Sorry ladies, the only uterus this girl cares about is her own. Please save the blood and gore for another victim. Which makes me wonder... why are they compelled to tell you that crap? Technology is so much better than it was 30 years ago. My ultrasound pictures resemble a baby growing in my body, if I were to whip out my baby book and take a look at the sonogram picture, it would resemble something that looks like someone forgot to pay their cable bill. I don't understand why older women want you to hear about Aunt Mable's 38 hr labor with no drugs, down at the barn and Uncle Jed had to cut the cord with his rusty pocket knife before the doctor could even get there.... I'm already pregnant. If you want to decrease the number of teen pregnancies, this should be your audience, not me. I have a career and I'm willingly starting a family, the "right way".

I will say, at the moment it is still slightly surreal. I have passed the sick and tired stage, thank goodness, although I can proudly say that I never had bad "morning sickness" (it's ok, if you did... you can hypothetically punch me now), I never threw up (but I can say I came close, but I have an intense fear of barf... even if it's my own, which probably psyched me out of barfing... yes, and I'm going to have an infant...), just very tired and not feeling myself. Now I'm in a new place, where none of my clothes fit, but the maternity clothes I bought (because I don't see the point in buying clothes I may or may not be able to wear in a few months... why not go in for the long haul) are in an awkward not totally fitting right phase. When I think I feel HER (because it is going to be a girl... ) I discover it is just the wonderful blessing of pregnancy gas. Although, the other day, I did feel like a little goldfish was swimming in there... you know, like when you have a goldfish in the bag, and it is bumping the sides trying to get out?  

It's all new, and it's all exciting. I have such GREAT friends that are moms and new moms. I can't wait to learn a lot from them. I'm just hoping I'm as awesome of a mom as my mom... because she's the cat's pajamas.


 

FML...

let's recap.... a series of events from the last hour. After being gone almost a week, we come home to a snake slithering in front of the house, Jason kills it by slamming it with a rubber mallet. Inside the house, I discover that 2 of 3 cats somehow got locked in the guest room and made a HORRID mess, (meaning they pooped all over the floor in front of the door, and throughly peed all over the folded comforter on the bed). They somehow ruined Jason's brand new Calvin Klein suit (with the tags still on, and plastic bag cover) that was on the floor outside the room, (it was hanging in the doorway when we left) It seems while digging at the door in panic they brought some of the suit under the door, and peed on it also ripping the sleeve), AND we discovered the water hose had been left on the whole time we were gone. Fortunately (maybe) the sprayer attachment was on, but water was shooting out like Spindletop from the spigot at the top of the hose. 
So... A.) I'm thankful our house wasn't broken into.
 B.) That would have topped it all off. We could have torched the place at stayed the night at a Holiday Inn.


 Needless to say, Team Woodall hates life right now... And Baylee and Ladle are recovering concentration camp victims.

Good things brewing on the block...

There are some good things in store for JFTB. I must say, in the last 2 months I have been privy to some of God's greatest blessings, and can't wait to see what else he has in store. On a side note, I must say, I am NOT a green thumb by any means, but I can manage to grow a mean banana pepper... (As my Ouiser Boudreaux spring break garden experiment hoped to produce)

As you can see, some are twice the length of my index finger! I've seen these pickled and ready to go for sandwiches at Subway, but I don't know much else about them. Guess we'll see! This has to be the worst blog post in the history of blogs, but I haven't felt much like writing lately... Do I have a fever? Am I sick? Maybe the writing bug will bite soon... In the mean time. Happy growing! Sometimes the secret is in the garden keeper! :)

Today is O dot M dot G day.

"The Snake Charmer" by Henri Rousseau

"I'm naked and snakes are everywhere! I knew I shouldn't have eaten those mushrooms back there!"

Gardening with Ouiser Boudreaux (based off of Billy Collins' poem "Shoveling Snow With Buddha")

I pull into the driveway from a long excursion at Lowes, and with my husband's help we cart in 40 bags of top soil, organic matter, landscaping timbers and such. Jason assembles the timbers into a box-like shape to hold the dirt for my raised garden. I wait inside in the a/c for my friend Ouiser Boudreaux to show up. I am glad she is coming to help because I am NO green thumb, and Jason doesn't do plants. It isn't 5 minutes later and Ouiser just comes waltzing into my living room, slamming the front door shut like she owns the place. "In case your wondering," she snickers, "I didn't see the point of knocking because you know I am here! You can't help but know when the neighbor 6 doors down is home because of your dog's insane bass bark." I smile and pat Duke on the head. "You are momma's baby boy!" I coo at him and scratch his chin. He grunts just like he did when he was a puppy. Ouiser can do nothing but stick her tongue out at me. 

We head to the backyard and I don't even make it to the back door when she starts in on me. "For Christ's sake! You can't go out in that crap!" she snaps. "What ever are you talking about? Athletic shorts, a tee shirt and this baseball cap are perfectly appropriate for this mission, love." I can't take it when she thinks she knows everything. "Well what am I supposed to wear? I am gardening for crying out loud!" I scream at her, because talking nice never gets me anywhere. "You have to wear overalls, a ratty white tee," she tosses me a straw hat, "and this ugly ass hat." We get outside and work the earth, and magic starts to happen in her hands. We talk about life, our families and she taught me some valuable lessons....

1. Southern women are destined to grow old, wear ugly clothes and grow vegetables in the dirt. 

2. Tell it like it is... always.

3. Fake people can kiss your ass.

4. Ugly overalls make tomatoes grow faster.

Today, I get to watch childhood favorite TV shows (Hey Dude and Salute Your Shorts) I found on Itunes!

~Twanda, out.