I made meatloaf last night.  Today, I practically proposed to my yesterday self for being so forward thinking as to make meatloaf and put it in the fridge to be baked today.  Marrying yourself is awkward, though.  Don’t do it.  You get funny looks.

Today was exciting.  I made references to two series of films made in the late 70s/early 80s while teaching.  Really, the references kind of made themselves… or were made by people who didn’t know they were referencing anything.

To be clear, I’m 26.  I’m not accustomed to referencing movies from that time period.  But there’s this book my kid is reading where there’s this little origami character Han Foldo.  And in case you didn’t get the reference, they later explain that Han Solo is anything but lame.  … Now I’m checking to be sure my student understands what’s happening in the story, and I can tell he doesn’t really get this, so I ask him who Han Solo is.

M: “I don’t know.  They just mentioned him for the first time.”
J: “… well… it’s a reference to a movie they’re assuming you’re familiar with… it’s a movie about wars… that happen in the stars…”
M: “Star wars?!”
J: “Exactly!  Have you seen it?  Do you remember Han Solo?”
M: “I’ve seen all three movies, but I don’t remember Han Solo.”

… and that’s when I realize that he means episodes I-III when he says “all three movies”.  Yikes!

The same kid was practicing his crane kicks later in the day.  … you know… like they do in the movie with Jaden Smith.  It was an exciting day.

Do your future self a favor and make some meatloaf.  I like to start with this recipe, and then change things up.  I added shredded zucchini, carrots, and pureed cauliflower.

I’ve got a brilliant idea for ginger cookies (a GF variation on my grandmother’s recipe) sandwiching pumpkin ice cream, and I’m sure I’ll do it and tell you about it before too long.  Before that, though, I really have to get some Christmas presents done did.

A good friend of mine spent over a year in Afghanistan.  When she came back, she observed that she became an angrier person in that time.

Being deployed to Afghanistan and teaching fifth grade are totes not the same.  At all.  But spending 7 hours a day with 27 ten- and eleven-year-olds has had a similar effect on me.

Frequently, when reading blogs, I wonder what people do for their day jobs.  And so many bloggers never mention it.  I’ve always kind of taken that approach myself since I try to maintain some semblance of professionalism and the word “totes” is not necessarily a habit I would want my students to emulate.

So here it is:  I’m a teacher.  In fact, I’ve been a teacher for 12 weeks now.  Yikes!  I’m not a mean person, really, but things are frustrating, and I’ve heard that’s normal for the first year.

What’s not necessarily normal is the anger I’m feeling.  Or maybe it is.  I don’t really know.  I get angry at my students sometimes.  Like when one of them pukes on my classroom floor.  On purpose.  That kind of upsets me a little.  Just a little, though.  Getting called a b**** upsets me even more.  And getting called a “bich” on a note passed from one student to another: it just makes me boil over.  A) I’m really not mean to my students.  B) If you want to express your opinions in that way, by all means do.  Just do it with correct spelling, will you?

But I get angry.  And I can’t tell my students that I’m angry.  I can’t tell them that I’m totally completely pissed off that they decided they needed to urinate all over the bathroom floor.  (See, kids, that’s called a pun.)  I can’t tell them that when they pick on each other for no good reason (and to be clear: a “your mom” comment is NOT a good reason), I want to cry a little.  I can’t tell them that I’m upset.

And I whine a lot.  To my boyfriend.  To my mom.  To the other teachers.  To my friends.  To anyone who will listen.  Because there’s so much about these children that frustrates me.

To be clear, there are a lot of things about my students that are objectively frustrating.  And my children have no control over them.  At all.  Some of my students are hungry.  Some of my students have very difficult home lives.  These are things I can handle.  It’s harder to handle the things that my students do as a result of these things, though.  It’s really hard.  And while I get that the second statement necessarily negates the first, I still can’t help but feel like I really do want to work with a difficult population so long as the population isn’t difficult for me.

So here I am.  Frustrated.  And all day long, I hold it in.  And there’s traffic, and I don’t want to go through the light because I know I’ll block the intersection, and some jerk decides that I’m doing this wrong and honks at me.  And I just…

Or the cashier at target decides (after I’m already in line, mind you) that her line is closed.  I guess she wants to make sure she doesn’t stay a minute after her shift is over.  Really?!  REALLY?!  … because it’s not like I worked 12 freaking hours today, and I really just wanted to buy my orange juice and wrapping paper and use the express check-out lane without having to wait 15+ minutes behind some woman doing her ENTIRE Christmas shopping this evening.  It’s not like that at all.

Wait a second.  You don’t find this even remotely interesting?  WHAT?!

I didn’t think so.  And that’s ok.  Because I’m falling asleep at 6pm most weeknights anyway, and if I’m staying up any later it’s because report cards or progress reports are due the next day.  I’ve been quieter lately.  And I’ll probably be quiet a little while longer.  I’m on pinterest, where I can get food ideas while doing my makeup in the morning.  But please don’t expect too much from me.

I’ll be around, I’m sure.  Especially during 5-day weekends and glorious winter breaks that are pretty much all about food.  But I’m angry right now.  And I’m getting less angry, I think.  But in the meantime, trust me when I say you don’t really want to hear about angry.

Soon enough, I’m sure I’ll be able to laugh at the fact that one of my students thought the word “condition” was “condom” or that every one of my students has seen The Karate Kid but not one of them has any idea who Mr. Miyagi is.  Soon enough.  But until then…

In the last two weeks, I had my first day at a new job, my first day of school, my first call home to a parent, my first role call… so many firsts.  Did I not tell you this was happening?  Oh yea… it’s happening.

It’s happening in a very real way.  I know because I spent the entire day on my feet, because I’m losing weight despite the extraordinary amount of chocolate I am also eating, because I have an apple on my desk.  No lie.  I got an apple on the first day.  An apple timer, as it turns out.  But an apple, nonetheless.

It’s exciting.  It’s exhausting.  It’s mostly exhausting.  I’m cooking a lot still, and new recipes will be up sometime after I’m home during hours when it’s light outside and can therefore take pictures of my food.  That’s not a weird reason to want shorter hours at work, is it?