The Ghost of Irene

So this morning we started studying Thanksgiving in the First Grade at my elementary school. I'm so thankful for a break from the normal curriculum. This should be a really fun week. Goodness knows, I need it. On Friday, my class is going to dress as Indians and the next door class will dress as Pilgrims and we will get together for a "Thanksgiving Feast." I think this feast may actually just be popcorn and cookies, which I don't think were served at the first thanksgiving, but whatever. :)

Last Friday, I was observed by my vice-principal for the annual official observation that will go in my professional folder. It wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible. I only had one child throw a major fit. Fortunately, the VP has dealt with him before, so she knows how he is. I think I actually handled it rather well. I'm learning. Anyway, the best part of it as that it's over. Hallelujah!

As my kids were working on their models of the Mayflower this morning, one of my little girls was walking around the room looking under desks and such. I asked her what she was doing, and she replied, "I'm looking for the Ghost of Irene." I asked her who the Ghost of Irene was, and she said, "I don't know, but she's stealing our crayons." It's true that there's someone stealing crayons, but I think it's a six year-old klepto and not a ghost.

My weekend was wonderful. It was pretty busy, but I had a decent amount of time for myself, which was nice. My dad was out of town hunting, so I got to hang out with my mom. We had a girls night on Friday night, and last night I took a break from my small group to go hang out with her again. Nice and relaxing.

We had a double dose of Big Time this weekend at church- one Saturday and one Sunday. I think it's fair to say that the Saturday one was utter chaos. Whatever could've gone wrong did. Good thing we were only showing it to people from churches all around the area who are wanting to implement the program in their children's ministry. (Note the sarcasm. It was not actually a good thing.) Fortunately, Sunday morning was amazing. It was probably the best show I've been a part of since I started.

After BT, I finally got to go to the grocery store and stock up on all that healthy stuff that my trainer told me to get. Take my advice on this: Never buy British crackers. Nast. Chad didn't tell me to get them, but I did because they've got good nutritional value. Wish I'd saved that $2.99. They taste like sweet, crumbly cardboard.

After shopping was lunch with the grandparents where Grandpa of course followed through with his normal routine: 1) discuss the importance of exercise, 2) try to convince me to take up golfing, and 3) slip me a $20. I'll suffer through the first two as long as number three continues to take place. Fortunately and unfortunately, now that I've joined a club and have a trainer the conversations have changed a bit. It's fortunate because the exercise conversations aren't quite as long as they used to be, but unfortunate because I think that he now actually believes I will become an athlete. I guess taking up tennis didn't help with that, either. Regardless, I hereby proclaim that I will never be an athlete. Everyone who knows me knows that. Except Grandpa, apparently.