Author: Alice

Testing Season and Sainthood

SOLSC Day 24

Ahh, the Lone STAAR State. With the end of spring break we get into full-on testing season. We fast from regular schedules in favor of more disciplined stamina building test prep, the school desert. Pre-pre tests. Check the data bible to make sure we’re following everything TEA says is all good and holy. The gospels tell us what should’ve been taught by now, what still needs to be taught, what may or may not be tested and then the prophets warn us to prepare for field test questions. Testing demons attack on the day of the test(s) and even tempt kids and adults to quit before they start.

The congregation met today after school. We received intensive study lessons focused on Testing Commandments. We learned about possible sins: students cheating, teachers scoring tests, helping with test items, marking on an answer document, switching answer documents, working on a different test, stepping out of the room, lack of monitoring students, starting and stopping times, keeping visual aids uncovered. Taking a nap.

We also learned about mortal and venial test administration errors. Scoring a test before returning it. Mortal TAE (test administration error). A student in the wrong testing room before the test starts. Venial TAE. However, both testing sins must be reported to the high priest of testing commonly known as the CTC, Campus Testing Coordinator.

Ex-communication from a church at least allows us to settle our differences with God. Texas flat out revokes teaching licenses. No absolution. No redemption.

We all wear blank looks because our lesson requires us all to stare at the camera Jan Brady style. TEA gospel. We already took some independent study courses and earned our certificates. Confirmation of our ability to test students requires one more class. Some of us have been chosen to earn an esteemed designation of OTA, Oral Test Administrator. I received my certificate yesterday, a fresh parchment looking document I filled in with my name and the date ready to download and send off the the CTC.

It’s a demanding time, but we all celebrate when it’s over. One more class to go. I get to confess my training and qualifications by signing the Oath and submitting it to the CTC. One step closer to TEA sainthood.

Sunset Check

SOLSC Day 23

My son snaps a picture of the sunset. “Sunset check.”

“Sunset check? What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s this thing I do with my friends. We all take pictures of the sunset and send them to everyone. It’s how we see who’s had a good day or not so good.”

Brilliant idea, as brilliant as the dazzling colors of the sunset.

Sunset check.

How did your day go?

9 Weeks, 2 Days

SOLSC Day 22

My oldest graduates high school on May 26th. His high school hosted a drive through Countdown to Graduation this evening. With everything being cancelled this year, parents are working on ways to creatively celebrate a full pandemic senior year. I held my composure and didn’t say much. The first stop along the route in front of the school was a senior yard sign. Then a goodie bag. Followed by a senior t-shirt, topped with a cupcake. It didn’t hit me until today. I’m mourning the busy-ness and frenetic planning of a Mom of a Senior while he mourns the “loss” of a typical senior year. I know we’re not alone and there are others going through so much worse, but it still stings.

“Not too bad. As long as there’s food, it’s worth it.” He chomps the cupcake in two bites.

Left Behind

SOLSC Day 21

TASTES LIKE HEAVEN, BURNS LIKE HELL

Fireball Whisky

My parents visited for spring break. They left this morning and what remains is Sunday. An I-will-not-get-the-Sunday-blues type of Sunday. We cleaned up last week. The yard is in good shape. The house is free of piled up messes typically saved for weekends because we’ve been home, work free, school free, worry free. We finish off homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast courtesy of my husband. We check rooms, the pantry, the fridge, wall outlets, my car, the back porch, closets and bathrooms to make sure everything is packed. We stand in a prayer circle, holding hands, reflecting on time well spent and petitions for a safe trip home. They pull out of the driveway. Standing on the porch in our pajamas, the still cold March morning chills our bare feet. We wave our last goodbyes.

Back in the house, I set out to get myself dressed for church. On the counter, next to my sink, I find a small plastic bottle topped with a red cap, the front label peeled off. Hmm… Dad probably left this, whatever it is. Mouthwash? Aftershave? Definitely not Mom’s because whatever she owns lives in pastel bottles with shimmery letters. I rotate the bottle and read the label:

I chuckle. I process five thoughts: 1) Dad found it on a run. He hates throwing anything away. He brought it back and meant to give it to me in case I’d drink it later. Except I don’t drink whisky. And I certainly wouldn’t drink that one. 2) For whatever reason, Dad slaps it on as aftershave. I mean, do people do that? 3) It’s Dad’s mouthwash. And he takes a tiny swig. But he doesn’t drink, so that’s odd. 4) Maybe he does drink a little swig with his morning shave. 5) He’s reusing a bottle he found somewhere and put mouthwash in it because he didn’t want to buy a travel sized bottle of mouthwash. Plausible.

Knowing it’s not something worth turning around to retrieve, I message Mom, just to see which of my thoughts is close.

Is this Dad’s?

Throw it a way. I think it’s alcohol.

It is. Fireball Whisky.

Does he take a swig every morning?

Or does he use it as aftershave?

He couldn’t have found it on a run,

it would’ve been empty. 😂

No he uses it after he shaves.

LOL! That’s what I thought.

Confirmed. I burst out laughing. He scratched the devil off the front. But why would he go out of his way to get a small bottle of Fireball instead of regular aftershave? Maybe he does take a little swig.

A Few of My Un-favorite Things

SOLSC Day 20

Mushrooms with onions and yogurt all milky

Cheeses with mold and sheets not so silky

Socks full of holes all hanging with strings

These are just some un-favorite things

Raindrops that go plop straight onto my forehead

Teens up so late, oh why don’t they go to bed?

All of the stress the end of break brings

These are just some un-favorite things

When the sun shines

When the birds fly

When I’m feeling glad

I simply remember un-favorite things

And I start to feel so sad

Stepping on ice from the freezer all melted…

Sweet Teeth

Papá in his garden, tending his apricot trees
Papá had a mouth full of sweet teeth
Not a tooth
He liked Folgers instant coffee with
a heaping spoonful of sugar and milk

No tomes café o te vas poner prietita,

He pulled up his long sleeved shirt, 
proving it with his farm tanned skin
I didn't care if my skin got dark 
I took a sneaky slurp of his hot coffee
before delivering it with a small plate
full of chocolate chip cookies
or a thick slice of banana bread
peach cobbler
Mom's 7-Up pound cake 
carrot cake drenched under 
a thick coat of
cream cheese icing
pan dulce
cinnamon rolls

On hot summer days
we greeted him with a tall glass 
of Coca Cola or iced tea
garnished with lemon
accompanied with a side of sweets

When we had it,
a bowl piled high with
scoops of butter pecan ice 
made its way onto his lap,
replacing his straw work hat 

We chatted,
changed the channel to Bonanza
or Gunsmoke reruns,
his favorite shows

Replacing his hat,
the signal he'd had his fill, 
we collected empty dishes

Rising from his seat,
he thanked us
and waved goodbye

He'd return tomorrow, 
his sweet teeth
urging him back
SOLSC Day 19

Artist’s Date

SOLSC Day 18

I took myself on a date today. With ideal places still iffy, I took her to a local coffeehouse. She likes coffee. I invited her to bring her journal and she ordered a raspberry mocha. Indoor seating is closed, but the proprietor offered the patio. We accept, walk around to the back, and find a table. We have the place to ourselves. He delivers the raspberry mocha.

I open up to chapter five of Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, and peruse the exercises at the end. I pick up my pen and start answering the questions, reminding myself to dig deep and be honest. This is our second round with the book. The twelve weeks we started in October 2019 came and went. We worked on morning pages, three days of writing every morning for twelve weeks. It’s become a good habit. I’m still wondering what three pages means if we start with an 8.5 x 11 journal then switch to an A5. But three pages is three pages, sometimes more, sometimes less, but every morning. Mostly. And ideally before we pop into social media, work, email, busy-ness, but that’s tricky with work. Weekends and breaks are best, but we’ve stayed the course.

Besides the morning pages, Cameron also makes us go on an artist’s walk. Once a week, but more is okay. No one else is allowed. No spouse. No kids. No pets. Reeses hates it when we leave without him. No music filled earbuds. Those walks have become our lifeline. We have to listen. Pay close attention to our surroundings. Our inner voices.

The reason for this intervention is to unblock Creativity. I have great ideas. She’s not so good at following through. No time. Self-doubt. Stuck. Getting too old. Needing to tend to the kids first. Working on alone time with the hubster. Alone time with each kiddo. Family time. Cooking. De-cluttering. Work. Self-soothing with too much social media. Lots of self-sabotage.

We’ve made lists of possible dates: museums, an empty church, hiking, a relaxing bath, perusing bookstores, a massage, star gazing, tickets to a musical, day trips, lunch at a new to us restaurant, an art class, hand lettering, hanging out at a library. Artist’s dates are the hardest to schedule. Once a week. Every week. We’re working on that. We need variety, but we’ll take what we can get. It’s usually a walk, hike, short drive, a visit to a coffeehouse, or massage. Our last pre-pandemic artist’s date, just when we were making progress on this new routine, was to the Lone Star ‘Zine Fest.

Today we went to a new coffeehouse that opened about a week before the pandemic shutdowns began. I’m glad they’re still around. Artists’s date for the week is done. I’m glad we spent time together. We need it.

Restart

SOLSC Day 17

Virtual workouts aren’t my favorite if there’s a live in-person option. There are pluses, like having the entire spin studio to yourself. There are more virtual classes available. Some can be done at home. 24/7 access.

I don’t own a stationary bike so I went to a virtual spin class today. I opted for one called “The Trip,” which takes you on a surreal, computer graphic ride through hills and highways resembling roller coasters. Studio lights are dim, a screen comes down, the music comes on, and an instructor’s voice from who knows where guides the workout.

It’s a hard 50 minute class that I haven’t attended in several years. I’m the only one in the studio. Plus. I start the “ride.” After the warm up I realize it’s too much visual stimulation. I pump as hard as I my legs will pump. I listen to the cues. Add more resistance, the invisible voice instructs. Nah, I’m good, I pant back. I do my best to keep up with the beat, the cues, the hills, and bright lights that guide me along a virtual road up to the sky and down, roller coaster style. I can’t skid off the road on this ride. Plus.

I last 25 minutes. Minus. Sharonda, my favorite instructor, isn’t here to catch me cheating. Minus. So I cheat. Minus. My heart feels like it’s running away from me and I can’t catch it. Minus. I’m the only one still in the studio. Plus turned minus.

I need other people for good, healthy peer pressure. How did I ever survive 50 minute rides? I’ll be back, but I’ll try the version with a screen full of human instructors. Once more classes are added, I’m opting in for the in-person instructor led version. I’m so done with virtual everything.

‘Tween Momming from the Car

SOLSC Day 16

The place is a “bakery boutique.” I look for the address then poke around their online space. Macarons. I’ve never had one. Maybe I’ll eat one today. Frozen coffee drinks. Boba tea. Smoothies. Fancy cakes for special occasions we aren’t celebrating any time soon. I peruse the menu before we leave to prepare S. with options for today’s, what do you even call it? ‘Tween date? Hangout? Meeting with a friend? I don’t dare call it a playdate because that’s for little kids. Eleven is way too old for a play date.

We arrive and walk toward the bakery, her friend waiting near an outdoor table. Ready to enter and pay for her order, S’s friend interrupts, her giddy personality bubbling from her grin. “You made it! My mom gave me money for us to have treats. She’s in the car.” Okay. I thank her and S. bounces a little, trying to contain her excitement. They walk in. I return to the car.

There’s a liquor store on one side of the parking lot. Should I take a look? I decide against it in case S. returns for more money or something else. I don’t dare go back to casually say she can find me in the liquor store. I don’t want to make an irresponsible adult impression. I also don’t want to embarrass S. Those reprimands are never fun.

My Chiquita Bonita Banana de Mamí, Missy Lou, Fia Mia, Noodle, Oosey-Goosey child is growing up. I’m lucky if she lets me call her any of those names now, outgrown almost as soon as she kicked her feet free out of that infant swaddle. It seems that her feet have always been ahead of her. I snap a picture. Seriously? I’m snapping a picture of my kid hanging out with her new bff.

I roll down the windows and sit in the car, the steering wheel a makeshift desk for my journal. I need a mom-ervention, a sister-vention. I switch between journaling and pinging text messages to my sisters, each one interrupting the other conversation. I send the picture.





Awww...
It gets worse Cat.
Those boba teas are 👎🏼




Sorry to say, it does get worse!  I would've gotten a slushie instead.
I feel like the paparazzi.  S. got invited to hang out with a friend at a little bakery boba tea place.  My pingüilla is a middle schooler who doesn't want to hang out with me.  😩😩😩




She probably hates it lol! 😂  I'm not sure what she ordered.



She's been glued to my side through about the end of fourth grade.  She still falls asleep in my bed.  E is always in his room.  They come around when it's convenient.  Like when they need food or a ride to a boba tea place.

I write a little. Ping a little. Watch a little. It rained earlier. The tables and chairs are still wet. Bff takes off a black hoodie and wipes down the table and chairs. They sip. Laugh. S. waves to see if I’m watching. I am. I wave back. Shrugs her shoulders. Back to the bff. Takes a sip. I don’t think she liked the drink she ordered. They both keep shaking their hands free from what seems to be condensation transferred from their drink cups. Neither one goes back in to ask for napkins. As much as I want to, I don’t swoop in to suggest it either.

Bff’s mom strides toward them. They all go inside. Ah, looks like that mom is swooping in to ask for napkins. Nope. Bff’s mom walks out with a drink. S and bff return to the table. Looks like more giggles and a few minutes later, they both rise and part ways.

S. returns to the car. “I got a macaron! Here, have some.” I take the piece she offers. Delicious.

Anchor Chart Pub

This might have been a mocktail…

Coming soon…The Anchor Chart Pub. For teachers. All day happy hour. If you take a mental health day, come on in and get a deal. We’re working on our menu, so please be patient while we develop these recipes with our resident (part time, second job) teacher mixologists who craft the perfect cocktail/ and so far, only mocktail.

Tasting rooms will be available for team planning.

We’re working on a special Pandemic Teaching menu. If you have menu suggestions, please reach out. Should your suggestion make it on our menu, we’ll send you a discount code to use on your first visit.

Cocktails

D-Hall (made with Jack Daniel’s Whiskey)

Grades Are Due Next Week

Meet the Teacher Night

Maternity Leave (Pregatini)

School Supplies

Spring Break

Talent Show

Craft Beer

Bus Duty

Field Day

First Year Teacher

Principal’s Office IPA

Professional Undevelopment

Retirement Party

Sad Little Lunch

Sub Plans

Thirsty Teacher

Wine

Book Club

GNO Grading Party

Lesson Plans

Meet Me at the Library

No Teacher Left Behind

Tequila

Field Trip

Sex Ed

Staff Talent Show

Summer Vacation

Tutorials

Vodka

Copy Machine

End of Course Exams (Say that Fast 3 Times)

Full Moon on Halloween

Other Duties as Assigned

Science Fiction

Standardized Testing

Tech Support

Whiskey

Grades Were Due Yesterday

Missing Permission Slip

Pep Rally

Zoom Teaching

SOLSC Day 15