A stormy night.

We all knew it was coming.  A huge storm.  Snow, ice, rain, then back to snow.  And it was going to hit late at night, so all the children across the viewing area were hoping for a snow day this morning.  I told them that if ever there was a chance to get one, this was it.  But still you can never be too sure...how many times have we been under a "Winter Storm Watch/Advisory/Warning (what's the difference, anyway???)" only to wake up to a light dusting.

As we all settled in for the night, the storm began.  Snowing outside, tossing and turning inside.  Minds racing, husbands snoring, falling in and out of sleep.  A sick child, who was going to be staying home the next day regardless, crying out in the night.  Stumbling through the dark house, comforting, climbing back into bed, the husband asking "So you're not getting up?"  Dear, it's only 3:15.  I have more than two hours of sleep left till that alarm buzzes.  Phones ringing with a sub job, listening to see what job I won't be able to take, relieved that it's for the cafeteria cashier and I wouldn't have done it anyways, putting the phone down on the night stand.  Settling back in for 15 more minutes.  Rustling and rising from the other side of the bed.  Footsteps tripping down the stairs.  Husband's voice informing me that school has been cancelled.  But we didn't get the call...That's because you never hung up the phone...Turning off the alarm. Pulling up the covers and falling back asleep.

I'm taking a snow day, too.

'Tis the season...

On fire. Or at least wishing I were.

Chandler:  So ah, isn’t a bit cold out for shorts?

Robert (Pheobe's boyfriend): Well, I’m from California.

Chandler: Right, right. Sometimes you guys just burst into flames.

{Remember Friends?}

{ I don't either.} 

What is it about us Californians?  Why do we think we can get away with minimal winter wear in these sub-freezing climates?  Why, on a day I KNEW I'd be going out for recess duty, was I wearing little more than a thin wool coat, with a thin cardigan sweater underneath, no hat or scarf, and athletic mary-jane style shoes?  Sure, I had upgraded to socks and gloves from the day before, but as the wind picked up and started whipping around the playground and the temperatures seemed to be taking a nose dive, I realized I am still a California girl.  One who has a skull thickened by too much sunshine and 60+ degree days in the dead of winter.  One who, despite being a wholly converted Clevelander for nearly 15 years, must not truly believe deep down inside that it is really going to get that cold.  That surely a mere 30 minutes outside in these frosty conditions couldn't be THAT big of a deal.


Well, my friends, I think I was hit over the head with an icicle today.  I think it is time to bundle up and face the freezing facts...or I am surely going to be losing a digit or two to frostbite.  It's time to accept that those lazy, hazy days of West Coast winter are no longer my reality, no matter how much they are ingrained within me, that I have not, nor will I ever, spontaneously combust to combat the chill.  

Californian?  Yes.  Superhero?  No.

The adventures of an elementary/intermediate school educational/special education aide substitute. Who also happens to be slightly insane.

I was sitting at the computer, innocently working on my Giant Eagle shopping list, when I decided to refresh the substitute website.  For the 20th time.  And suddenly there was a posting.  For the next morning at 7:45.  I hesitated.  Glenn was heading out of town at 6:00 am that morning.  Andrew needed to be at art club at 7:30.  Brooke needed to be at book club at 7:50.

Could I make it work?  Without thinking about it too much longer, I hit "accept," and it was a done deal.

Of course I could make it work.  Because I am slightly obsessed with this whole subbing thing.  It messes with your brain.  I never thought I would get any work in my own district.  It seemed so saturated with subs.  But I took some less-desirable jobs, got my face out there, didn't hesitate to call the human resources person (who has since called me personally to sub since she knows who I am), and (of course) did a good job.  Now I have plenty of opportunities, but since it still seems too good to be true, I am sometimes scared to turn a job down for fear that I'll never get another call.  (Plus, I'm competing with people like this.)  I know, I know.  It's absurd.  But this is my crazy mind at its best.

So I came up with a plan.  I would get Andrew to school for the art club, then drop Brooke off at a friend's house on the way to the school I was subbing at.  I ironed my clothes and packed my lunch the night before.  I set my alarm a little earlier to still get my exercise in.  (Never mind the fact that I crawled back into bed for a few more minutes, thinking I'd just ditch the exercise, but then realized that there wasn't much point and I should just get up.)  This was going to work out perfectly.

Except it didn't.  All of a sudden it was 7:30 and somehow I was still trying to make my spinach shake, get my teeth brushed, find some socks (never happened), convince Andrew and Brooke to get themselves in the car instead of just standing in the laundry room, and hang up the phone with the mom of the neighbor girl we were supposed to pick up for art club.  (Yes, we're late.  Yes, we'll be there.  Please!  Let me hang up so that I can get out of here!).

Finally, we were on the road, but despite the phone call wondering where we are, the neighbor girl didn't come out to the car immediately.  Really?  Precious time is slipping away!  I got the art clubbers to the school and headed towards the friend's house.  As we were about to turn down her street, we see her car leaving the development.  It is at this point that I start panicking.

It is 7:45.  I am supposed to be to the school now.  Brooke is supposed to be to school now.  Her school is in the opposite direction.  There is no time to get her there.  My phone is pretty much dead.  Not enough juice to make a bunch of phone calls.  What. Do. I. Do?

In a situation like this, there was only one thing to do.  Call my saintly mother-in-law.  She truly was my savior that morning.  She came to the school I was working at, picked Brooke up, and took her to school.  I felt so awful that I had gotten myself into this ridiculous situation and had to call her to bail me out I was literally sick to my stomach. 

But there wasn't much time to wallow.  It was time to try to convince one kiddo that he did actually want to color his picture like the model instead of sit under the table, and another that he needed to sneeze into his elbow rather than right in my face.  Time cover two bulletin boards with butcher paper for the art teacher.  Time to stop a pair of twins in a small group of three from arguing about burps and who has the best handwriting.  Time to keep another small group focused on correcting their math homework instead of on the pictures of the principal wakeboarding that were laying on the table of the conference room.  Time to realize that five minutes for a math facts test is actually a good chunk of quiet time in which a teacher can accomplish quite a lot.  Time to fight off a splitting headache that was making it really hard to correct those (very elementary) time tests.  Time to wish I had found those socks since I had to spend 45 minutes outside on recess duty.

Time to confirm that I truly must be mental, because I agreed to come back the next day.

Just a couple of things I was thinking about at 1:00 AM...

...i should be taking vitamins...i am so tired of not being able to breathe through my nose...i should start using my neti pot again...should i make the lumberjack in bed with me roll over?...or go downstairs?...should i go downstairs?...did i forget anything for my presidency meeting agenda?...really?  it's 1:00 and i can't fall asleep?...maybe i'm like a little baby who gets overtired and starts screaming uncontrollably and the mom doesn't know what to do...i do feel like screaming because not being able to fall asleep is one of the things i hate most in this world...looking forward to the clean sweep of andrew's bedroom tomorrow...maybe i could use sheets on the floor of my bedroom for the "keep," "donate," and "throw out" piles...we just got our bedroom all nice and neat, now i have to mess it up with all of andrew's junk?...i hope this doesn't take too long...he is not going to want to throw anything out...i indexed 66 names tonight...awesome...hey, my rambling thoughts at 1:00 might make a funny blog post...

We are all winners.

All right, all right, so the Cavs stink.  So we make the best of a losing situation.  Let's look at the bright side, shall we?

1.  For less than the price of a movie, you can buy tickets for nosebleed seats at the Q.  (Unless, of course, you accidentally purchase 4 extra tickets and can't convince anyone else that it is still fun to go to a Cavs game.  Then the price goes up slightly.  Bummer.)

2.  You get to dress like your dad.

3. CavFanatic Antawn Jamison bobble-head night!  Fifteen people in the group, fifteen bobble-heads of a guy who will be trade bait in less than a month. They're selling on eBay for about 3 bucks. 

4.  You get to witness Jenna's first pro sporting event and how seriously she takes it. 

"If I hold this up high, then they will see it and they will do what they are supposed to do."

She will make a great Cleveland sports fan.

5.  A boy with his grandpa at a basketball game.  'Nuff said.

6.  No matter how big of a lead the Cavs give up, there is always a reason to dance.  And shake your bobble-heads.

7.  CHALUPAS!  When all else fails, when your team is down by 15 points for pretty much the whole 4th quarter, you can still cheer for a 100 point game.  Thank you Cavs, for a cheap dinner.  If nothing else.

Ok, so the Cavs lost, but for us, it was a win-win situation.

Wrapping it up.

The last Christmas cookie has been thrown out eaten, the kids are back in school, and the parentals have left the building.  And finally, after a whole entire week of 2011 has passed, I am getting around to recording the final events in 2010.

There was Christmas Eve. We went for the slightly untraditional--Brown Bag Burgers!  The kids and Grandma and Grandpa Franklin had never had them, so in the name of Christmas spirit, we splurged and everyone had delicious burgers and fries.  We did stick with the traditional Christmas cookies for dessert.  Never fear.

There was the opening of the "Secret Santa" gifts. This year, not so secret, due to certain people who like to have their noses in everyone's bidness.  Still fun nevertheless.

There was Christmas morning, which blissfully did not start around here until 8:30.  We have trained our children well.

 

There was Christmas Day, spent with the Ryans and the Franklins.  More Christmas cookies.

There was Christmas Night, when Grandma and Grandpa Brooks arrived with Teddy.  There was not a lot of picture-taking, but I am pretty sure there were some Christmas cookies.

There was a piano recital.  Planned by Jill, performed beautifully by the children (they have an amazing teacher!), attended by a handful of family and friends.  Jill is doing an exceptional job with her first go as a piano teacher.  The kids listen to and respect her, and she does the same to them.  She expects a lot of them, but loves to laugh and have fun as well.  If it weren't for her, certain children would have completely given up on playing the piano, I gay-rone-tee.  She put on a lovely evening for all of us.  Cupcakes (not Christmas cookies) were served afterwards.

There was a trip to the toboggan run in the Metro Parks.  They say the toboggans are only 45 pounds.  They lie.  Between the crowds and the gargantuan size of the toboggans, the most rides anyone in our group had was four.  But they were four really fun rides, and most of us would go back again in a minute.  We were pooped, but we refueled with Christmas cookies later that evening.

There was New Year's Eve.  I am so sorry that most of you dear readers did not get to eat what we got to eat.  Jill called it the best appetizer party (our traditional N.Y.E. weapon of choice) EVER.  But I think she says that every year.  Very very yummy.  We played some games, watched Shrek Forever, and broke out the chocolate fountain.  No, we did not dip the Christmas cookies in it.  Although that might not have been a bad idea...

The weather was so lovely and mild that the adults went on the back patio.  It reminded me that we will indeed have spring again someday.

We settled in to watch the ball drop and the living room looked like the Astrodome after Katrina.  People packed in everywhere.  While some adults dropped off, all children over the age of three made it till the bitter end.  Oh wait, there was one who woke up at about 11:57 feeling very uncomfortable from a not-yet-undiagnosed ear infection.  He and his mom rang in the New Year in the other room with some screaming and futile attempts to calm, respectively.  Nothing a little antibiotics can't handle, and January 1st was a happy day for all.

Teddy has no desire to prove he can stay up until midnight.

Are we celebrating the new year?  Or rejoicing that we don't have to eat another Christmas cookie for eleven more months???

And that, my friends, is how 2010 (and all its Christmas cookies) became history.