Priorities

Conversation with third graders about homework

"Mrs. Bisbal, what if you like don't have time to do you're homework?" asks one of my more challenging students.

"Well then you should talk to me about it. Every once in a while an emergency situations happen. You just need to let me know." I answer half distracted as I turn on the overhead projector to start reviewing the daily problems.

"No. I mean like everyday." he persists, "What if you like don't have time to do your homework everyday?"

I glance at the clock. We've got to get started. I quickly remind some students to move along and get ready to review the daily problems.

"Hmmm...sounds like you have too many things going on. Maybe we should call your mom and tell her you need to stop playing football after school." I finally answer figuring that might stop this unproductive conversation.

"No, no, no...I'm not talking about me." he quickly answers defensively, "I just mean what IF someone never had time to do their homework."

Ah, yes. Another great philosophical conversation.

"Well, I guess that person wouldn't learn as much." I suggest. I should just leave it at that. We've got to get moving with the lesson. But I can't. I have to add, "Boys and girls, homework and school work needs to be your top priority."

"What's a top priority?" asks another student. Ugh. I opened that can of worms, didn't I? Now this is a full blown conversation. So much for staying on schedule.

"If something is a top priority, it is your most important thing. Getting your work done needs to be your most important thing." I say.

"Yeah. That's the whole reason we're in school. To learn." adds one of my more dilligent students.

"No. Mrs. Bisbal. Your family should be your most important thing." immediately chimes in another boy.

"That's true. Family is important." Can't argue with that, I guess.

"No, Mrs. Bisbal, the most important thing is God." says another boy with a very grave look on his face, "God needs to be your priority." Oh, man. Did we really have to pull the Jesus card? Ok, enough. We need to get started.

"Thank you for sharing that opinion. That may be true for some people." I take a sip of my coffee and continue, "Boys and girls, your family and God and everyone else on Earth and in heaven wants you to make doing well in school your priority. Can we all argee it is important, and we need to find time for it?"

"Yes"

Finally we start the daily problems. We read the first one aloud and a hand immediately shoots up. Good. Time to get rolling.

"Mrs. Bisbal? You forgot to do the burrito count." Ah, priorities...

Rise and Shine

Saturday 5:23am

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

Daniela is up. But, unlike an alarm clock, I can't hit snooze.

"MaaaMaaaa!!!

A brief pause.

"Buuubaaa!!!"

This is her name for Max. She's given up on me, and is now hoping that he father will open her door. Unfortunately, Max is at work. So I haul myself out of bed and open her door. Daniela dashes out the slaps the living room TV.

"On!"

So I turn on the TV.

"Nooo!!!"

Apparently the episode of Diners and Dives that is on is not what Daniela had in mind. What did people do before DVRs? As Daniela see the openning to Yo Gabba Gabba she begins to jump and cheer wildly, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Being that she is my third child, I should know that going back to bed is not an option. Technically, I can go back to bed. But doing so will have consequences. It's not a wise choice, but I'm tired...and she is watching TV right?

Saturday 6:05am

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

I open my eyes and see Daniela running towards me.

"Here! Here!"

She's holding something, but without my glasses I have no idea what it is. It looks like a small ball. Daniela throws it into the middle of my bed. As I roll towards it, I immediately feel the wetness seeping into the sleeve of my shirt.

I put on my glasses. It is cracked egg. The egg white continues to leak out of the shell onto my newly changed sheets. Daniela starts to jump and cheer again as I get out of bed with the oozing egg in hand.

"Eat!" she sings out.

"Let me guess," I say, "Do you want an egg?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Crazy Eyes

Nico started pre-K this year at my school. I'll admit I was a little apprehensive at first because he's not exactly a happy-go-lucky, go-with-the-flow kind of kid. Nico is basically a grumpy old man in a 4 year old's body. So, I wasn't quite sure how that would play out in a school setting.

But, it turned out to be the best thing for him. It's really helped him grow up A LOT. No complaints from his teachers, and Nico contends that school is "good" because he "tries to make happy choices". He's made friends and is very into learning the letters so he can read like Mateo.

And even though most mornings I'm on the verge of losing my mind due to watching both boys and trying to get ready for my students, Mateo enjoys having Nico at school with us. He also enjoys reminding Nico on a daily basis that he is "only in Pre-K" which by the way makes him "still little".

Recently, Nico made a turkey out of construction paper and fake feathers. He was excited to show me what he made and tell me exactly how many feathers it had. When we got home he said, "Now hang that chicken up! I don't want Daniela to touch it."

So the Thanksgiving chicken joined the Jack-o-latern,the letter S make out of glitter glue, and his star student certificate on the tack board in his room.

The next day, when I dropped him off at Pre-K, I told one of his teachers how proud he was of the "chicken" and that we hand to hang it up.

"Aren't those eyes great! They really make the turkey cute." she replied.Uh-oh. Busted. I have no idea what she's talking about I just kind glanced at the thing.

"Oh, I didn't really look very closely at the eyes, what are they like?"

"They were all different. Some had glasses, some had long eyelashes. It was interesting to see which eyes the kids picked. It really reflected their own personalities."

Hmmm. Now this got me curious to see which eyes Nico picked.

So after school I asked him, "Nico, do you remember what kind of eyes you picked for your turkey?"

"Yes. Crazy eyes." he replied.

"Oh, why did you pick crazy eyes?"

"Because everybody chases that turkey around and around and it drives him crazy. It's a mad, crazy turkey."

I know the feeling. I empathize with that turkey. Quite a fitting sentiment for the holiday season, I'd say. So when we got back home, I looked at the turkey and, sure enough, it looked pissed. I'd say his teacher's observation was correct.

Sunday Dinner

15 minutes before dinner
" I want a cookie with frosting" Nico demands.
" Not right now Nico. We're having dinner soon." I reply
"NOOO!!! NOW!!" Nico shrieks, throwing himself against the refrigerator. Daniela rushes in. She starts hitting the fridge with her hand yelling "Ow! Ow!"
Did I mention that I'm trying to cook. And that my kitchen is smaller than an airplane bathroom.
"Listen, you can have a cookie after dinner, but now you need to leave the kitchen so mommy can cook."
"Fine, go cook. And don't watch me!" Nico barks as he opens the fridge and starts looking for the cookies with frosting.
Ok, fine. This can go down the hard way. I grab the cookies and put them on top of the fridge.
"If you are hungry, you can have a cheese stick or grapes. Dinner will be ready soon and you can have the cookie after dinner."
"AHHHHHH!!!!"
Max hears the cries since we are now louder than the TV and comes into the kitchen. If you're keeping track that is now 4 people, 2 of which are hysterical, in the world's smallest kitchen. Max and Nico begin to agrue some more about the cookie. Daniela is still slapping the fridge and yelling. Max drags Nico to his room, but this does nothing to calm him down. I finally cave and bargain with Nico. In exchange for stopping his screaming, he can have one Nilla wafer. Miraculously, it works. I give one to Daniela too and they both run outside. Back to dinner.

5 minutes before dinner
"Ok everyone. Start cleaning up." I yell.
Max stays on the couch, seemingly unaware that I've said anything. Nico is outside jumping on the trampoline in his underwear reciting the Pledge of Allegiance at the top of his lungs. Daniela is drawing on her belly with a magic marker. And Mateo is playing outside with the neighborhood kids. I start herding them in, one at a time, trying to get them to pick up their toys, wash their hands, etc... Finally I give up, sit down at the table where I've put everyone's plate, and start eating by myself. Whatever, I'm hungry.

Dinner
I am eventually joined by the rest of the family. Daniela has brough her bowling game to the table and is busy lining up all the pins.
As soon as he sits down, Nico asks, "Where's my cookie with frosting?"
"I told you, you will get it after dinner."
"Aw...this dinner is yucky." he whines.
"Yeah, it's really disgusting." Mateo adds.
"What are you talking about?" I say nicely. "It has all kinds of things you like. There's meat and cheese and vegetables..."
"YUCK, YUCK, YUCK...I want a cookie." says Nico.
Max and Nico start to agrue about the cookie again. I look at Daniela and tell her to try some of her dinner to which she shakes her head and continues to set up her bowling pins.
Finally a compromise is reached and Nico agrees to eat 4 bites of his dinner because he is 4 years old. Make as much sense as most things he says. Then he will have a cookie. He eats his 4 bites and then changes his mind that he would like ice cream instead. You can guess what Mateo and Daniela did when they saw the ice cream.

3 minutes into dinner
We are all sitting, nicely and calmly, at our kitchen table. Max and I are eating the casserole I made. The kids are all eating bowls of ice cream. A peacful silence settles over us. Just the way I pictured my family Sunday dinners.

Face Paint

"Can I get my face painted like a pirate?"

This didn't seem like an unfair request from Mateo. We were in Legoland and we were just passing a booth that displayed several photos of kids' faces painted up to look like pirates, superheros, and princesses. A little girl sat in a chair as a lady brushed a colorful butterfly on her cheek. Sure, why not?

"How much is the face paint?" I asked

"Depends on what you want."

"Mommy, I want Spiderman!". Nico has now caught on to what we are doing and wants in on the action too.

"Spiderman is $17." the lady replies nonchalantly with a smile on her face.

Hmm...I must have heard that wrong. It sounded like she said $17, and that can't be right. Because that would mean that I would be shelling out $34 for both kids to get their faces painted. Paint that will wash off in a few hours. Unless of course they decide they want it off sooner.

The boys have had their faces painted before. At Christmas time, we were at a toy train show (again, the boys picked this activity, not me- last time I decided what the activity was it was 2002). Mateo got Batman and Nico got SpongeBob. When Mateo saw his face in the mirror, he said, "Wow, cool!" and left it on the rest of the day. Nico, however, took one look at the artist's handywork and screamed, "Get this guy off my face!". After trying to be persuaded otherwise, I finally gave up and wiped off the SpongeBob with a wipey I had in my purse. I remember being pissed about that. And SpongeBob only cost $3.

"Excuse me? Did you say $17?"

"Yes. You can pay over there. They accept credit & debit cards."

Uh-huh. I'm sure they do.

"Mateo, honey, that a lot of money."

"No, it's not, mommy."

"Well, actually it is. There's so many other things we could buy for $17..."

"Awwww!! Mom!! I want to look like a pirate!" Mateo pouts. "And Nico wants to be Spiderman!" he throws in to try and guilt trip me further.

"Listen," I try a different route, "I promise that when we get home, we can buy face paint and I'll paint your face. OK?"

"Uhhh!!" This is the only answer Mateo gives me along with his sourest puss. We wait in line at the next ride in silence. Mateo brooding, Nico cranky and insisting on being carried, and me wondering who hell pays $17 for face paint.

So we get back from Legoland and there is no mention of face paint. Good. They forgot. Time to put on Nick Jr and check my Facebook. I click the TV on and..."Mommy! Remember that! Remember at Legoland you SAID you'd GET me that!"

I glance up and see a commerical for a facepainting kit. Shit. "Yeah, I remember. We can go to Party City today and get some face paint."

So we go to Party City and pick up a face painting kit for $2.99. And because the cashier is the only adult I've seen all day, I tell him about the $17 Legoland deal. "Wow! Outrageous! Smart of you to come here." Why thank you. That's what I thought.

So we get home and Mateo, Nico & I watch several how-to videos on u-tube about facepainting. I don't have any of the brushes or special kinds of paint they recommend, but I manage to make Mateo into Black Spiderman and Nico into a skeleton. Daniela take one look at Nico and immediately bursts into tears. Nico initially enjoys this new ability to terrify his sister, but then gets bored and makes me change his face paint to Red Spiderman. Predictably, the boys then drag out the Halloween costumes and everyone, including Daniela, gets dressed up. Daniela even gets in the spirit and lets me paint a ladybug on her face.

Smack Talk

"Come on Grizz! You sleepin' or what?"

Now I know I'm ahead of Mark on the elliptical so far. But just to make sure, I glance over at his machine and check his total strides. Just as I suspected. I'm still ahead. Next to us an older woman is doing her own elliptical workout at a very normal, sane pace.

"Whatever. Check my machine, I'm ahead of you. Hurts, doesn't it? An overweight mom of three is kicking your ass."

Now the lady next to us lets out and audible chuckle and smiles at me. Mark laughs too and proceeds to beat me like he always does. Come on, I can't hold that kind of pace for an hour. I'm an overweight mom of three, remember? But I like to smack talk.

Few weeks later...

"Hey speed racer, you don't have to power up that hill. We still have a long ride ahead of us."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize this pace was too fast for you. Seemed easy to me. Would you like me to slow down?"

Glen had nothing to say back to that, but he did make sure to drop me on water tower hill and on the flat section going back to Henderson. As he should, he's a much more experienced cyclist that me. But, I like to smack talk.

I come by it honestly. Many of my family members are also smack talkers. In fact, Mateo it seems has inherted this trait as well. Today at T-ball practice is a good example.

Mateo asked one of the boys on the team what his name was.

"Nothing!" shouted the boy.

Mateo looked confused and responded, "Nothing? Your name is nothing?"

"No. I'm just not going to tell you my name."

I sat in a lawn chair a few feet away observing this conversation while pretending to read my book. I wondered if I could smack this little brat upside his head and make it look like an accident. God, I hope he's not in my class someday. But I didn't intevene. I wanted to see how Mateo would handle it.

"Ok." Mateo said, "Well if you won't tell me your name, I'll just have to give you a name. How about Lilly?"

"Haha. Lilly is a girl's name!" said another teammate.

"Yeah. You can be Lilly. The prettiest girl in T-ball." Mateo sang out with a huge grin as the offending boy's jaw dropped.

I stared down at my book and forced myself not to laugh. Another smack talker. I'm oddly proud of him at this moment.

Stressed Out Anyone?

Unlike some people, I don't pretend to have my shit together. The truth is I'm usually chasing my tail and the majority of the time, it is my own damn fault. Take right now for instance. It's 11pm on a school night and I'm on the internet. It's really gonna suck to wake up at 6am having gone to bed at midnight. Yes, I know. Entirely my fault. Self imposed stressed.

So it's no surprise that with report cards due, I'm totally behind. The following dream is the result of said stress.

I'm teaching math. I turn my back on the class to write something on the board and when I turn around I find that the students have totally rearranged their desks. They are all sitting next to their friends and talking really loud. I become enraged and tell them to move their desks back. But they won't.

"Fine!" I shout, "I'll just do it then. Get out of the way!"

I start to move the desks back, but then I realize that the students have cleverly taken off their name tags, so I have no idea whose desk is whose. Also, I just can't get the desks to move where I want them to! All this desk moving is getting me hot, so I take off the sweater I'm wearing.

Just then, my assistant principal walks in and asks, "Where are your students?"

I look around and realize that they all left the room and I have no idea where they are. Then I look down and realize that I had nothing on underneath my sweater and I've been moving around the desks totally topless!

I told this dream to my friends Jamie. She cracked up when I got to the topless part. Guess it wasn't bad enough that my entire class turned on me and then I lost them all. I had to be naked too.

Hopefully one day I'll learn to stop shooting myself in the foot and not leave things till the last minute. Unlikely. But the thought comforts me. I could be that teacher whose report cards are done 3 weeks before they are due. I could be that super efficient, organized, fabulous, skinny mom whose mini-van floor is not covered in crushed up Goldfish crackers. Maybe, but not this week. And next week is not looking so good either :)