textercise

alternately titled, 'a new PE curriculum'

And I shall never leave the house again.



I'm thrilled that I found this new workout regime, and I'm confident it will replace my old workout plan:





Yep. That one.

but are they worth it?

Tough times in Lansdale.

adieu, sweet cat, i'll miss you

In honor of my recently surrendered cat:



He wasn't one for using the toilet. Near the end, he wasn't one for using the litter box.

gastrointestinal management

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Mommy used to tell me. Daddy, on alternating weekends, would tell me. And a cuddly looking animated creature would reiterate my parent's claim on Saturday mornings.

But when I started teaching, breakfast became quite the gastrointestinal quagmire.

Bubble, grumble, rumble, bubble.

I couldn't leave the room. Returning would be insufferable; students laughing at the reality of my absence, especially since I wouldn't need to go all the way to the bathroom. I just needed a second, and one or two seconds out of the room would be easily deduced by my students.

But breakfast, yummy, yummy breakfast. I could not forgo my morning bacon-y, egg-y biscuit.

So it's Wednesday, early October in the second year of teaching, and I'm having a moment where I need one of those special seconds - alone and in an echo-free space. But I can't leave. I'm rooted to the room, unable and unwilling to leave because I don't want to let my students know that I do certain humanly things.

I needed to do something, say something, ultimately, release something.

"Everyone...stand up."

They stood up.

"Everyone, touch your toes."

They touched their toes.

"Everyone, lean to the left."

They were giggling, talking, leaning to their left.

"Everyone, lean to the right."

More giggling, more talking, leaning to their right.

'Ppppfffffttttt'

And from that moment on, stretching became an every-so-often activity.

Breakfast is, without a doubt, the most important meal of the day.