Wednesday, September 30, 2009


Half of the students I have now were the graduates of my last Kindergarten class. All month I have been wondering, "Did you guys learn anything? Why was I stressing out day in and day out, worrying if you are reading up to your potential, understanding number sense, and most importantly falling in love with school and learning, when you remember nothing about the whole year?" I realized this when they didn't remember penguins will never meet Santa or polar bears because they live in the South Pole, something we studied for a month. They had NO idea who Johnny Appleseed was- something we did a unit on for a whole five weeks! They didn't remember it is easier to swim in the ocean than a lake because of the salt water, or if you drop a play-dough ball in the water it'll sink like a rock, but if you spread it flat like a raft, it'll float. They don't remember our student teacher, Mr. Ganab, who was with us for eight weeks and is now Noah's teacher. When I recently told my class if Hawaii had a better school system, I'd pack my bags and live there, a boy (who was in my class) said, "My kindergarten teacher went to Hawaii..." Hellllooo!! That was me!! Don't I look vaguely familiar? Doesn't the NAME at least ring a bell?
That year was my most trying year as a teacher, and these kids didn't remember or appreciate all of the hard work I put into them. However, this week, I have learned they remember my birthday is the same day as Mason's because I baked a cake for snack, and let him blow out the candles. They remembered how I tried to convince them there was a swimming pool in the third floor teacher's lounge, as well as I tried to tell them I forgot how to subtract and they'd have to teach me. - One kid even went home and told his mom he was worried I'd get fired because I forgot how to subtract. (Do you also find it disturbing they vividly remembered the times I tried to lie to them?) They remembered that I called Andy, Andy Panda, Tate, Tator tot, and Kelly, Kelly Bo Belly. They remembered I loved to read to them, and my favorite books were The True Story of The Three Little Pigs By, A. Wolf, and SkippyJon Jones. They remembered the time I was hanging something up on the wall during center time, and I jumped down from the chair, everyone turned to look at me, so I raised my arms and said, "TA-DA!!" They remember the ficken' worm in the sink that would never go away. They remembered that I hung orange and black streamers from the ceiling for Halloween, and their teacher stood on a volcano, on a black sand beach and swam along a coral reef all in one day. They didn't remember the lessons, objectives, or standards I tried to teach them, but they remembered how I was. That is really humbling. As a teacher, we focus so much on standards, and "are the kids learning enough? How can I re-teach that objective without boring the ones who got it while dumbing it down to reach the ones who didn't?" That's not what they remember. They remember how I acted with them, things I did that were special. That was the last year I decorated my room for any Holiday because I thought the kids don't care, or even notice, but I think I will this year. I need to back up. Tell them they are a great class, read to them more, and do special things. Then maybe they'll believe me next month when I tell them I forgot how to multiply and I need them to teach me.

Sunday, September 27, 2009


It's been a while since I blogged. I have been busy teaching and with school stuff. Last Friday my children's' school had their school carnival. Noah bought the tickets ahead of time so, they had 48 games to play. Needless to say they were there when the doors opened until the principal kicked people out. It's so interesting, amusing, disturbing and at times ironic to go to a packed, chaotic school function. As I entered every classroom, I was instantly counting desks to see how many students they had, looking at their daily schedule, classroom layout and anything else that may inspire me to do something different. I did remember after going into the third grade rooms I need to break out the sunrise/sunset chart, and I hope the janitor didn't throw it away last summer. Other people walk in and let their small children run like mad in room, while others go in and budge to the front claiming, "I no know there was a line..." It's sort of funny- not ha ha, but ironic, how kids often mirror their parents. I can't say always because when Ethan was one and a half until four-years-old, he would point and go pewww, pewww as if shooting them whenever someone talked to and or looked at him. He sort-of took the whole "stranger danger" thing to the extreme. Any potential kidnapper would be left thinking, "I don't want that kid, he's mean." Anyway- that in itself proves kids don't ALWAYS mirror their parents, because to the best of my knowledge, neither his father or I have ever "fake shot" people for looking at us. However, I do throw around my teacher look as well as roll my eyes a lot. I saw an example of apple- tree, not-so far was at the "fishing" booth. The kids throw a fishing pole over the curtain and someone behind the curtain puts a toy/candy/prize on the clip connected to the fishing line, connected to the pole. You could tell this dad acted very entitled, by how he budged, then yelled at little kids who tried to do the same, and he was really loud on his cell phone as if we all wanted to hear his half of his "important" conversation. Anyway, this guys kid pulled out a small piece of candy, the kid who is about six, instantly stomped, whined and wanted a better prize. The dad yelled, "throw it back over, he wants something better. You have better prizes back there." I bet the people organizing the game were all, "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain". Later Ethan and I went to the cafeteria to eat. There was a fourth grader whining, yelling and pulling on his mom's shirt- something ALL kids do, however most outgrow it by the fourth grade. The mom turned around and closed fist punched him!! I couldn't believe it! I was thinking, "OMG! I need to do something. I am a mandated reporter. I need to get her name, re-po her child... what if she punches me? What if she won't give up her name? What if her kid kicks me? I gotta do Something..." So I gave her the ultimate teacher look. When we arrived at the carnival, Noah wanted to do all of the sports games and Ethan wanted to do all of the sure to win instant gratification games that resulted in candy. Therefore Noah went one way with Scott and I went the opposite with Ethan. I kept seeing Noah's friends wandering around all alone looking for friends to hang out with. When I saw the fourth friend I thought, "I need to organize these boys so they will find each other." I told Andrew to come with me and we'll find Noah and hopefully some of his other friends along the way, but I'd have to stop at the bottle buy, the clip drop, ring toss and lollipop pick along the way. Apparently to a fourth grader, the only thing worse than hanging out with your OWN parents during the carnival is hanging out with your friend's parent when that friend isn't with the parent. I am so glad my child still likes to hang with us. So glad in fact, I had to hug and kiss him in public!

Monday, September 14, 2009

Homeless and Hungry

Today we had two high school students from one of the local churches come and talk to us about the program called "homeless and hungry". Last year the area elementary children filled the Fargo Dome with food for the homeless shelters. This year the challenge is to gather perishable items like soap, shampoo, diapers, etc... Anyway, it was a boy and a girl talking to the school about homeless and hungry. At the end the boy asked the students what they are, the students answered back "homeless and hungry". When we got back to the room, one of my students asked, "which one was homeless and which one was hungry? I think the girl was hungry because she was really skinny." I also had the kids journal about their weekend. He wrote, "We went to OAK Clare. It was a long drive. 5 ours long. We were so escited to get out of the car when we got there. We only got out of the car and went to the hotel, and came back home again for 5 ours."
A little girl in my class told me today, "You look different than you did when I was in Kindergarten." Right away I asked, "How? Taller, shorter, fatter, older? How?"
Right now, Noah told Ethan, "I'm gonna grow up and make more money than you will ever see because I am going to be a professional football player. In twelve years I will make 2 million. I am the smartest kid in class, but that won't matter after college." Deciding to squash his dream I told him he needs a back up plan because not many people get to play professional football. He replies, "When you have talent like mine you do." Noah has become one of those kids in high school I hated. It is time he gets knocked down a few pegs. There is good self-esteem and there is unrealistic cocky esteem where you are obnoxious and annoy those around you. He is becoming the second. I told him he really isn't THAT great and sent him to practice. Ha! I did not, but I was SOO tempted! I really don't know what to do. His ego is so fragile, but he really is getting obnoxious and snotty about how "awesome" he believes himself to be. My friend in high school thought he was so super-great he was destined to be a pro basketball player by the time he was 20. Circumstances changed, a death of a parent, stress due to that lead to not very good grades, which lead to losing his scholarship, which lead to him dropping out of college because "why go to college if you aren't playing ball? It cuts into the drinking time." To this day, he is a 36-year-old man who still swears he could, and should have been the world's first 5 foot 11 professional basketball player. Maybe someone should have told him before he was 19 that he should depend more on his smarts, than his ability to be a point guard. Noah is a long way from high school, let alone college, but I don't want him to isolate himself because he can't understand what it means to be humble. I guess he will find out sooner than later. I'd rather not tell him because I don't want to break his heart. But I will tell Ethan in front of him, "Ethan, you are going to make SOO much money because you are really smart!"

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

School and Blogs

Today I was reading a friend of a friend's blog. That is a friend once removed. The blog actually belongs to an acquaintance, but all I know about her is she has a son Noah's age, and he plays baseball, she has a little girl about 3-years-old, and lives in Moorhead. Anyway, my friend said on her blog to read her friend's blog and give her support. I opened the acquaintance's blog, and a picture of her beautiful little girl is at the top. The blog is titled "Ellie", it starts with "My wonderful baby girl Ellie has been sick, very sick..." It goes on to tell how Ellie hasn't been feeling well, drinks a lot of water and "gets up to pee 2-3 times a night. Last weekend she was sleeping (with the acquaintance) and peed the comforter." She and her husband "decided to take Ellie in, expecting she may have diabetes." They found out "Ellie has diabetes, and they did blood tests that revealed liver cancer." I am crying as I am reading this, thanking God for my children's health, and asking for forgiveness for my sins so He doesn't punish me by making one of my kids sick. Wouldn't you think with the picture of the little girl and the "my wonderful baby girl Ellie" that Ellie is her daughter? NO! It wasn't until the VERY last sentence of the blog entry (which was longer than most of mine) did she mention, "We had to let Ellie spend the night at the vet." What?! The VET? Why would you send your dying daughter to the vet? I had to read that sentence three times to make sure it was correct. Just a guess... Ellie is a dog. I promise I will NEVER tempt fate like that and post a photo of my children and call my dogs my baby and say they have cancer leading you, the reader, to believe that my actual human baby is sick. I was so pissed she made me cry for nothing. Although- I do hope her dog gets better. However, a dying dog doesn't isn't even in the same category as a dying daughter.
OK- I vented about that. Now onto to school. I love my class!! They are really starting to understand the routines and procedures, they respond really well to bribery and I don't have to use my angry voice or consequences very much because the bribery works. Yesterday, during reading I told the class to turn to page 16 in their reading books. On Tuesdays we have Reading at the end of the day, compared to the beginning of the day when they are fresh and ready to learn, because on Tuesdays the art teacher gets them right away when they are fresh and ready to learn. So the whole class is giving me this "I literally can't stand to hear your voice, look at you, or pay attention for one more second" look. So, we got up, played a round of silent ball and went back to reading. I told the class to turn to page 16 AGAIN. Mr. Panda turns to page 98. Meanwhile, when I get hot or frustrated, (which I was both yesterday because, well, summer finally showed up in North Dakota, and the kids and I were done for the day) I take my bangs, and the hair on the crown of my head and make a ponytail. If I have a ponytail holder or clip, I put it in place. A ponytail right on the top of my head including my bangs so it might look a little like a unicorn. Yesterday I didn't have a ponytail holder or clip, so I twisted it and shoved two pencils in it to form a make-shift ponytail with pencils sticking out of it on the top of my head. My students have become so used to it, they no longer look at me like I am going to twist my head around 360 degrees and spew Hebrew at them. Everyone was on page 16. Mr. Panda was on 98. I went to his desk and said, "16" and tapped his book. He goes further in the book. I crouch down and say, "16, you are on 108. Should you go further, or back? Is 16 less than 108?" He looks at me and blinks. "Honey, do you understand what I am saying?" Mr. Panda says, "no." I am thinking 'he is deaf and I am going to be the ultimate hero to crack the case of why Mr. Panda doesn't understand. Ever.' "You don't? Can you hear me?" Which now as I write it, it was a dumb thing to ask because what would he say, "No I can't hear you. I am stone deaf." Mr. Panda answers, "Yes." "Can you understand what I want?" "No." "Why (Mr. Panda)? Why not?" He answers with a totally straight face, "because you are too pretty." So that's it! All this time I have been thinking 98% of the people I have interacted with just tune out the frequency of my voice, but now I know the REAL reason. Keep in mind, I still had the ridiculous pencil/ponytail on top of my head at this time. If this were any other kid, I'd think they are saying it so I will get off their case and walk away, but not him. Mr. Panda isn't clever enough to think that way.
The "Panda" story- in case you don't know is this: I taught him in Kindergarten. We were working on learning our last names, so I would say the kid's first name then they'd tell me their last. We did this up and down the rows of tables they sat at daily. It would be, "Jane" she'd answer, "Doe". "Billy" he'd answer "Olson" or whatever. Mr. Panda was the 10th kid everyday. He thought his last name was Panda because his family called him "(Johnny) Panda".
I'd say, "Johnny"
"No. say (Doe). Your last name is Doe. Ready? Johnny"
"Tell me your last name."
"Oh. Panda."
"No. It's Doe. I say Johnny, you say Doe. Ready? Johnny"
"Huh? Oh ya. umm.... what? Oh! Panda!"
"I say Johnny you say doe. Johnny"
"What's your last name? If you tell me I'll give you a sticker."
OMG. It was impossible to teach him his last name, then finally one day he blurted it out. Just like that! He got it. It only took four months. He also called me Mrs. Mund who was his brother's second grade teacher at the time who was retiring, and had black hair and sang a lot. It wasn't until Christmas he learned my name, then he told everyone the next year that Mr. Fairfield was his Kindergarten teacher when I was their's also being it's a small school and I was the only one. Now, I am his teacher again, but he forgot my name, so I am just "teacher". Anyway, "Mr. Panda" was the kid to interview today during morning meeting. The other kids ask him questions and he answers them. One kid asked, "What's your mom's name?" He said, "Lisa" without skipping a beat. His mom's name is Beth. I envisioned me saying, "Johnny. I say mom you say Beth. Mom..." We'll save that for when we really are on page 98 in reading.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Back to School Shopping

I went back to school shopping for the kids today. Not for me. Guess I will have to continue going to school naked being I didn't get any back to school clothes yet... Ethan and Noah both received gift cards to JCPenny's from my dad and his wife for their birthdays. Dad doesn't believe in giving kids toys for presents, and his wife is a clothes-aholic, thus the kids end up with JCPenny's cards. They used to get Herberger's cards that I would buy from them so they'd have the cash and I'd use the card, but I can't really even find the department where my clothes would be at JCPenny's. They cater to size 0 juniors, women size 20 plus, and old ladies. Therefore, I took the kids to Penny's to pick out "any clothes you want". With Ethan I quickly regretted saying that. Ethan has always liked gaudy. The gaudier the better. He found lots of flashy shirts with metallic dragons and crossbones on them that I nixed right away. I even found myself getting desperate enough to encourage him to buy a shirt that said, "Homework? Are you Kidding ME? Talk to the hand". I noticed that 75% of JCPenny's boys clothing is gangster wear. I asked Noah, "do kids at your school wear these clothes?" He said, "ya, the ones who don't listen and get in a lot of trouble." Enough said. The kids at my school who wear clothes like that think they are in a gang. I even asked an employee at Penny's "where are the non-gangster clothes". He looked at me like I was from outer space and I almost expected him to point me to the old lady department, but he said, "there's some Nike stuff over there..." Two little islands of non-gangster and NONE of it in Ethan's size. WTF??? Noah ended up with 147.00 worth of clothes. I gave into Ethan's wish for a "flashy" shirt and let him buy a webkinz. Then we went to the shoe department and were practically greeted with shoes saying a "yo yo man. Whazup?" Needless to say we left that store to go to a different one for shoes. Tennis shoes are so expensive. Again, Ethan picks out the ugly tacky ones that are on clearance (because no one wants them) that were thankfully not in his size. Noah picks out the most expensive pair and if I were in a better mood I would have toyed with the idea, but I laughed and said, "Are you kidding? When are you going to get a job?" I gave him three choices. One pair, I'd love to pay for, the second I wouldn't mind paying for but they were identical to his current pair and, one that I could live with paying. Of course he chose the most expensive one. The thing that really sucks is, that one he wanted was a black and orange Nike, but it didn't come in his size, so the salesperson brought out the white and black version- which was 12.00 more than the orange and black. Those are the ones we got, but I have to admit, they do look nice. Ethan ended up with a cheaper version of the obnoxious ones and they look like trash, but he loves them. Oh well, I don't have to wear them and they were less than 40.00. I now understand why my dad would get crazy crabby during back to school shopping time, and I would have been the kid to pick the cheaper of the three choices given to me. You know, now that I think of it, they didn't have to look for reasonably priced "non-gang" clothes because there weren't gangs then. I also was pretty easy because I knew they'd only spend so much and I would gladly go to 15 stores to find Levis on clearance. They had it pretty easy. They could have had to fight the "I want to dress like a hooker" or "I don't care if I have one pair of pants for the whole year- they are going to be Guess Jeans (size 29)!" Huh...

Happy Birthday Ethan!!

Ethan is seven years old. It seems like yesterday the doctor told me, "It's a boy" and I called him a lyre and proceeded to tell him I don't have any boys names picked out. Which he replied, "Then you should have known it'd be a boy." For months after I dreamed Ethan really was a girl. However, the minute I held him and he continued screaming his sob story, I fell in love and couldn't imagine having a different baby. We had to describe our child in one word for his "back to school" forms for the teacher. There were so many I could choose from; happy, excited, crabby, loving, cuddly, frustrated, independent, caring, kind, respectful, stubborn, cute, funny, innocent, anal, shy, smart, picky, active, sweet, and my baby. The word I picked was 'mine'. Ethan is the one person that can drive me crazy one minute and feel absolute for him the next. Ethan knows exactly what to do to push all of my buttons, but he also knows what to do to get back into good graces. Ethan has always been "mommy's boy" and doesn't give a lot of people the time of day. Knowing that and being told by him weekly that he loves me more than anyone else make me feel more important than the president, more special than the queen, and more saintly than St. Nick. My days with my little boy acting like a little boy are numbered. He already won't hold my hand. He did sit on my lap and slipped and called me mommy the other day, which I burned into my memory in case it's the last time. It will be nice to pay less for daycare this year, but I crave for the time my little boy would see me drive up to daycare and he'd run to me with open arms because he's so exited to see me and wanted me to pick him up. Yesterday I was looking at the Target and K-Mart adds and there was an adorable baby in one. I convinced Ethan I was "baby" shopping and we were picking out the cutest one. Wouldn't it be great if it were that easy? If you remember, baby fever always leads to a new puppy and we have three and no room for a fourth. However, both my dad and Stacy have offered to give us a kitten...

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Back to School Night

The boys had back to school night last Thursday. We packed up their small fortune in school supplies and headed out to meet their teachers. Actually Noah's teacher was my student teacher three year ago and also his basketball coach last winter, so we knew him already. The boys were so excited. We went to Ethan's room first. He unloaded his "stuff" and met his teacher. She seems so nice! Exactly what your would want for a first grade teacher (I wonder how many parents thought that of me after meeting me on back to school night?) Noah remarked three times during the evening that "she must be good because you can tell she spent a lot of time making her room look nice- she must be at school all of the time."- Only a teacher's child would notice that. Later he said, "She must really understand little kids because she put the minutes like 5, 10, 15, 20... on the clock for the first graders to learn." Ethan sat in his new chair and looked around. I read the names of the kids that will be sitting near him. He started to get tears in his eyes. Thinking it's because none of the names are familiar I walked around and said more names which resulted in bigger tears. Finally a name looked familiar. Ethan has a friend named Max. I should remember his name because we call our dog Max, Maxine and Ethan called his friend Max Maxine on the first day of school last year. However, Max looks like a Will to me. So I said and enthusiastic, "Ethan Will! Will is in your class! Will Ethan, Will!! More tears. He later tells me in the car that Will is not Max, but the boy in his Kindergarten class that is blind, has cerable pulsey and can't talk. Oh well. He'll make new friends. I did find out a boy down the block will be in the same class. He rides the bus with him, so Ethan knows him.
Next we went to pay for lunch, buy Noah a planner and Ethan a calculator. The lines are always super long. However, the calculator line was empty, so I took Ethan and went there first. The people selling the "stuff" are volunteers from the PTA- parents. The calculator lady was an older grandma. I said I needed a calculator and saw about 100 sitting all around her. She said, "you don't have to buy a calculator dear. If you have one at home, just send that." Funny. Every year we have to buy the "school" one for Noah because he always loses it over the summer and no one told me that. I bet they aren't going to put her at the calculator table next year, think of all the money the school missed out on- especially when the calculators come with the curriculum. Next, on our way to Noah's room we see the principal. Noah and the principal have been personal friends since back to school night for Noah before Kindergarten when Noah was wearing a Vikings jersey and the principal is a huge Vikings and Twins fan. He even has a cousin that plays for the Vikings- so that is the next best thing to his principal actually playing for Noah. Every Monday during football season in Kindergarten, Mr. Kopperude would come and get Noah during snack and milk break to take him to his office to have snack with him. Mr. Kopperude stopped us in the hallway saying, "Welcome back Noah and Noah's little brother." Oh well. If he knew Ethan's name it would be for a very different reason, so maybe it's good he doesn't. We talked football and Twins with him, then headed upstairs to Noah's room. Noah has a lot of friends in his class this year, and they were all there at the same time. Noah had to do a "scavenger hunt"- like at every back to school night, which I rather enjoy doing with the kids, but Noah did this hunt with his friends. Who ever said I was ready for him to grow up? Mr. Ganab, Noah's teacher, called me "Sara" for the first time in three years- even last year at basketball he called me Mrs. Fairfield. He also called Scott "John" making Scott wonder who this John was that I "must have talked about" when Mr. Ganab was student teaching. All in all it was a good night. The kids are excited to get back into the swing of school, and my students will have been in school long enough to have a reading and spelling test. Huh.
Thoughts I think: I have a student who doesn't listen and does whatever he wants. On Friday, I decided we needed to have a little talk. I started it out with, "Don't you ever get tired of ignoring everything I say?" He just looked at me with big eyes, probably thinking, 'No, I never get tired of ignoring you- it's easy actually. You maybe get tired of it though...'

Wednesday, September 2, 2009


I have many vises, biting my nails, falling off of my never ending "diet" wagon, Coors light, Dt. Mt. Dew, Young and the Restless, and talking on my cell phone while driving just to name a few. My most expensive one is the E-bay one. I am a bit, what should I say... COMPETITIVE. So, E-bay feeds right into that. In the last seven years, I "needed" several pieces of Brighton (really expensive) jewelry, a Coach purse for $65.00 that holds exactly five bills, fourteen coins and a small pack of gum. Actually, it is a purse that goes into my real purse. I also "needed" lots of baby clothes for Ethan until I realized I was paying for used clothes what I would pay for new at Herberger's or Macy's, a Halloween sweatshirts (even though I did get a cool one with blinking lights on it that make my ADD kids go nuts- not so good for the kids who are prone to seizures though), and a Halloween costume. Being an elementary teacher you have to dress up for the Halloween party. I used my pumpkin outfit for years. It's basically a dress with elastic around the thighs and I wore tights with it. After wearing it for several Halloweens, I got sick of it- even though it is still in my closet at school and I dragged it to all six schools I taught at. I believed it was time to buy a new costume. It is impossible to buy a "school appropriate" adult costume at the stores. They are all 'naughty cheerleader', 'naughty nurse', 'skanky witch',and ' look at my huge cleavage school girl'. So, I decided three years ago to order on E-bay a "Woodland Fairy" costume. I anxiously waited at my mailbox (much like I wait by my mailbox for the mother of the year award to arrive) and I finally got it! I tried it on. It was SO NOT a woodland fairy costume, it was a slutty whore fairy costume! It was short- SHORT and very, VERY see-through. Needless to say, I couldn't wear that to school. By the way if anyone needs a size eight woodland fairy costume, let me know- I can hook you up real cheep! Now I am looking for a new "school appropriate costume" for this year. My recent E-bay addiction is webkinz. It is stuffed animals that come with a code that the kids use on the webkinz website to adopt and take care of. Noah has 17 and Ethan has 21, soon to be at least 23. I started the addiction when they came out and were hard to find in the stores, so I gladly paid $15.00 for a webkinz stuffed animal. Now they are even at Target for $9.99. Still I found myself last weekend ordering webkinz on E-bay for more than I want to admit because Ethan wants specific ones for his upcoming birthday. Now I am back to constantly checking E-bay for things I "need" to fulfill my competitive nature. What is with that? I have a whole garage full of crap that I don't want anymore! Maybe I should sell it on E-bay. Stupid people like me will pay more than the price it was new when you could easily get at the store. Also, why the hell would I buy a blanket on E-bay when 1) we have about 87 blankets at my house and 2) who wants a used stinky ass blanket? However, did that stop me from buying it? NO- It is currently in my garage with the other crap I want to get rid of. I think E-bay has it's place, as in when you need to find a specific thing you are looking for that you can't find in stores. However, when someone who could be a little obsessive, and who tends to compete with everyone about everything without their knowledge gets a hold of the website, it could get dangerous.
Well I better sign off, my witch costume I am bidding on is coming due soon.
Thought that I think: Sam is becoming a nice dog. He has settled down. He doesn't barkthat much anymore, but he still thinks I need his 35 pound company in the shower in the morning. Oh well. It gives me someone to talk to.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Pet Talking

Do you ever talk for your pets? I constantly do. Today, Noah had a friend over and I talked for Max in front of the friend's mom and I was stone sober. I felt like such a dork. Whenever I talk to the dogs, (which is more often than to the people in my house because the people don't answer me) I always answer for them. For example; this morning I said "Good morning Maxie, did you sleep well?" Then I replied, "Yes mama, I slept good. I like to sleep by your head." Then I asked Sam, "Sammy, do you gotta go outside?" I answered in a similar but a little lower voice because he is bigger, "Yes mama. I no pee on the floor. Ethan pees on the floor, not me. I go in the toilet." Then I talk to Abby, "Abby, you are such a pretty princess. You are so nice." Then I reply for Abby, "I am mama, why you no feed me better if I am royalty? Why you make me live with commoners?" And the conversations go on and on. That very conversation happened this morning before I even took a shower. They are the first 'people' I 'converse' with every day. Sometimes I even use them to tell the other people in my house things like, "Abby, tell Noah to pick up his clothes and put them in the laundry basket." Then I change my voice a little to the "Abby voice" and say, "Noah quit being a pig and relying on mama to clean up after you..." Sometimes I use the dogs to deliver bad news, "Maxie, tell Ethan he has to go to bed." Then I use the Max voice and say, "Ethan- Go to bed!! Listen to mama, she is so wise and beautiful." I need to know, do other people do this? I hope so. I did this growing up with my cats and my dad told me once I sounded like a (word that rhymes with teetard), but it didn't stop me, it actually made me do it more just to annoy him. Now it's a habit. A little bit embarrassing habit, so if you talk for your pets (note- I NEVER talk for Ethan's fish), please let me know that I am not a fool.