Here’s something unexpected.

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Here’s something unexpected.

To recap this past week: I had that final-final-final (I’ve lost count) draft to turn in. I did my day job. I did my new day job in the second grade. I subbed several classes. I had my annual birthday coffee date with two friends, and I stressed over prepping a speech I gave Saturday for engaged couples (postscript: the talk went well).

In the midst of this, a dear long-time blog buddy reminded me I was slated to do a guest post for her on my blog. I told her I’d need to get back to her because I was currently drowning. She graciously pushed it off till March, remembering that’s when my next book officially releases and suggesting we do a promo swap then.

Thanks a million for that, Jacqui. And everyone, if you’ve ever wondered what it was like to be a human in prehistoric times, Jacqui Murray has done fascinating research for her novels. Check them out.

Also during this week, for the sake of my mental health, I still made it to my usual Jiu-Jitsu classes, though for one, I showed up several minutes late and without my gi pants.

What a flippin’ mess I am.

Gi pants, chilling on my bed while I’m fighting my battles without them. What slackers–as opposed to slacks! Ooooh, pants pun!

Picture me slinking inside with skin-tight leggings and sitting on the bench with my gi top over my lap as Instructor is teaching. The whole line-up of students is facing me. One even waves. HRH looks at me. I mouth, “pants,” and point to my legs.

Fortunately, she understood and, at the first break to practice the new move, rescued me.

I didn’t notice I’d forgotten pants until I was rushing from my car toward the gym. Oh, the face palm. I considered turning around and going home before realizing HRH could probably bail me out. It’s good to have friends in high places.

At the next class, Her Royal Highness was consoling a discouraged New Girl, telling her it’s possible to improve, even if it seems the learning is slow-going. “Do you think Ilsa’s good at Jiu-Jitsu?” HRH asked.

New Girl nodded. “She’s a beast.”

“She wasn’t always, though, but she kept at it,” HRH said, or something to that effect.

Later, she texted me about that convo, saying she hoped it boosted not only New Girl but me as well.

I do not agree with the “beast” assessment, and I think any blue belts who think they rock Jiu-Jitsu are arrogant or lying to themselves. Being a blue belt is rough. So much info, so fast, it’s hard to remember everything let alone anything in the heat of a roll. However, I have successfully added the punch choke to my repertoire. (It’s not as bad as it sounds.)

Anyhow, this conversation got me wondering, Okay, so what am I good at? Remembering my pants clearly isn’t it.

The next day…

The full-time second grade teacher is a bad-ass when it comes to keeping her students in line (including literally), attentive, well-behaved, etc. She says, “Class, star students,” meaning, hands folded on the desk in front of you, looking up, silent, ready to learn. She has them recite, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Rey,” when I enter. That whole bit.

On the teacher’s desk.

At the end of class, I passed back a worksheet and thought, I need to tell them to put that in their science folder. The regular teacher was back at her desk, so I was focused on gathering up all my stuff to get out of her way.

“Do you want them to put those in their science folder?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said but still didn’t announce that because I was making sure I left all her stuff as I had found it. So, after a pause, she told the class for me, while they prattled as they put their books away and got ready for the next class.

Unsure if they had heard her, I said, in a normal tone, “Second graders.” Instant. Silence. No movement. All eyes on me.

Holy shiiiiiiiii…

“If you didn’t hear Miss B, she asked you to put your worksheets in your science folders.” Nods, compliance.

I bid them adieu and slipped into Hubby’s office. “Something just happened,” I told him and relayed the experience, ending with, “I own those kids now.”

So to answer the question of what I am good at, rocking the scientific minds of seven-year-olds, apparently. It no doubt helps that I research fun, short, sing-songy educational videos to occasionally supplement their learning.

What? It’s not bribery.

And now, if anyone is wondering how I can work my day job, do this new teaching job, and sub on occasion, the answer is that my first job has been writing and editing for a woman out of state. Then she hired new people to do other aspects of her biz, and they convinced her of the merits of AI. As she’s become more comfortable using it, my hours have gotten fewer and fewer. Friggin’ AI!

Good thing there seems to always be work for me at the school. It probably helps that I’m sleeping with an administrator.

I love that my mom just choked a little until she realized I meant my husband.

Last Q: In the 1780s, setting national policy, Thomas Jefferson said that the US should wait “till our population can be sufficiently advanced to gain it” before dismantling Spain’s empire piece by piece.

I won’t even say the name of that one guy who of course got it right. Seriously, when are you going to go on Jeopardy? I’ll accept 10% of your millions in winnings for giving you the nudge to do it.

New Q: In 2007, open-source advocate Chris Messina is credited with introducing the use of this symbol on Twitter.


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13 responses »

  1. I always make it a point to wear pants when I leave the house. That’s because that’s where I keep my car keys — no pants, no car keys, no trip to the store for more gin and tonic … I’ve got my priorities.

    I’m assuming that you’re still not letting the second graders blow things up. I know liabilities, lawsuits, the administration …

    #askmecomputertrivia

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, for the love, you’re a computer programmer, aren’t you? Of COURSE! I really need to up my game and find something that might actually stump you. Also, brilliant way to respond. Also, fine. 8% “finders fee.”

      Gosh, you and my mom would get along smashingly over a G&T. And you and my dad could swap woodworking stories. He and Heather could talk plants. You and Mom could also talk writing and poetry. Y’all should get together sometime.

      We don’t get to the blow stuff up unit in second grade until quarter 3.

      Liked by 1 person

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