i just remembered when i slept in school when i was young, at the time my mom was not living with us because she has to work abroad to feed us, and my father's mother was not such a good of a caretakeer to us, so i find myself sleeping in school. ohhh...
On 3/28/03, Stacy wrote: > I laughed out loud when I read this. > > "Students should not be wearing pajamas to school since > they should not be sleeping here." >
At a high school: "students must tuck in shirts unless they are pregnany past the first trimester.."
On 4/10/03, withheld wrote: > i just remembered when i slept in school when i was young, at > the time my mom was not living with us because she has to > work abroad to feed us, and my father's mother was not such a > good of a caretakeer to us, so i find myself sleeping in > school. ohhh... > > On 3/28/03, Stacy wrote: >> I laughed out loud when I read this. >> >> "Students should not be wearing pajamas to school since >> they should not be sleeping here." >>
Ann Berrybush is a teacher for whom every day is April Fool's. Her students are always playing pranks on her, but the beautiful thing about Ann is that no matter the embarrassing situation in which she finds herself, she never stops extolling the virtues of reason and the life of the mind. At the same time she induces laughter as well as enlightenment because she is always ending up in her underwear, thanks to the pranks. It is possible merely to enjoy the spectacle of Ann Berrybush, but at the same time her endless battle to maintain dignity and decorum in her classroom is a metaphor for the eternal conflict of Reason vs. Chaos taking place inside all of our minds.
Here is a true Mother's Day Story to share with your mother's, grandmother's, and anyone who is brave enough to hold down the hardest job on the planet - MOTHERHOOD! We appreciate you! Happy Mother's Day!
The Oldest Mother by Stephanie Yuhas Every Sunday, I attended church with my mother, aunt, and my then 92-year-old grandma. One morning, our pastor has a special request after his sermon. "Would all the mothers in the church please stand up?" About half the congregation rose to their feet.
"In honor of this Mother's Day, we would like to honor our special mothers! Let's give them a hand!"
My mother scowled at me during the applause. "See, you'd better appreciate me! Look how everyone else appreciates me! You never clap for me..."
I rolled my eyes; I never win these arguments. "Mom, I DO appreciate you, remember that time I..."
"Shhh!" She interrupted, "Be quiet, the pastor is talking!"
The pastor smiled upon the rows of women, all glowing in a maternal light. "Today, we would like to treat our oldest mother! Mothers under the age of forty, please sit down."
My mother immediately sat, even though it was a complete lie. She gave me the killer, "Don't you dare say a word," stare.
He continued, "Any ladies under fifty, have a seat..." Fewer women remained standing. "Now anyone under sixty, please be seated."
My grandma sat down, "This is stupid, my legs hurt," she said in Hungarian.
My aunt pleaded, "Stand back up! They are trying to honor the oldest mother!"
Meanwhile, the pastor continued to speak, "Anyone below seventy, please sit down."
My mother and aunt tugged on Grandma's elbows and she swatted at them like flies, "The both of you are crazy! Go into the water and go under it!"
"Anyone below eighty sit down." Only one woman remained standing. The usher ran over to give the woman a microphone.
"Mrs. Daga! How old are you?"
"Eighty-two," she said sheepishly.
"Is there anyone in the congregation older than eighty-two?" The entire church fell silent, except for the my family arguing loudly in the back.
"This guy talks too much," Grandma complained, "He's just always going, 'Pa pa pa pa pa,' spouting off nonsense! Let's go home."
The pastor ignored the bickering and continued, "Okay, so I guess the prize goes to…"
"Vait, vait, vait!" my mother yelled as the ushers started to hand the Bath Poof Gift Set to Mrs. Daga. "I tink we have the oldest modder!" All heads turned to Grandma.
"How old are you?" the pastor asked. Grandma looked like a deer in headlights as the usher put the microphone in her face.
One of the other ushers chimed in, "Pastor, she doesn't understand. Here, let me try in German…" He walked over and yelled right in her ear, "Wie alt bist du?"
My mother looked at her, "Anu! Hány éves vagy?"
My aunt grabbed her arm, "Câþi ani ai?"
It didn't matter if we asked in English, German, Hungarian, Romanian, or Pig-Latin, Grandma just clutched her purse and sat with her lips sealed.
"This is ridiculous," I said, "She's ninety-"
Before I could even finish that number, Grandma leaned into the microphone. "Hallo?" she said, her voice echoing through the vast church walls.
"How. Old. Are. YOU?" the pastor asked, exasperated.
Grandma laughed, "Sex-ty four."
"No, wait, she's not sixty-four, she's-"
Nagymama looked over at me and glared. She softly but firmly said,"You shut your mouth before I shut it for you."
So, on that day, Mrs. Daga was accredited as the oldest mother and received the complimentary Bath Poof Gift Set, regardless of the fact that my grandma had at least ten years on her.
Moral of the Story: You are only as old as you feel. If you feel good, you might as well skip the door prize and lie through your fake teeth.
PS: Grandma is now 97 and STILL lying about her age! To read more stories or watch videos with her, visit [link removed]
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, EVERYONE!
-- Stephanie Yuhas Producer, Project Twenty1 Not Just A Film Festival Now Accepting Teams & Submissions! [link removed]
My mother's parents were born in Germany, emigrating to America while still young. They ran a grocery store in New Jersey, weathering the depression, two world wars and six children. My mother, June, was the next to last, having one older sister and three older brothers. Her younger brother, Eddie, was a millstone around her neck. Her older brothers shooed her away constantly, calling her bulgy eyes and telling her to take a bath. Her older sister Louise seemed to get the nice clothes, attention from the boys and had little time for her younger sister. Her Papa worked fourteen hours a day in the store, and seemed to June a stern taskmaster, to be feared instead of loved.
Her mother was kind and loving who unfortunately suffered from epileptic seizures. Once a month they would find her on the floor, shaking all over or unconscious. She died when June was seven, hitting her head on a coal stove in the kitchen. June cried for a week.
Years later, I came across a small portrait of mom's mother. A studio picture taken in 1913, she had a beautiful face, her hair done up in a braided top knot held with a pearl comb. The black satin dress looked expensive with pearl buttons and lace inserts. The picture's corners were brittled round and spots appeared in the faded background. I secreted the portrait out of the house to the studio where I worked and ordered the most expensive miniature offered. It was to be completely restored and printed on white celluloid. The face and hands would be hand colored with transparent oils and the background and dress painted with tiny brushes by an artist. When it arrived from the artist's studio, I framed it in a beautiful gold plated laceedged frame with a domed glass. Though measuring only three and one half inches by four and one half inches, every detail of her features could be seen clearly, even the color of her eyes. She looked just like my mother at that age.
On mom's birthday, January seventh, I placed the wrapped box on the kitchen table. All through supper, she couldn't take her eyes off that little box. Her guesses ranged from jewelry to playing cards, never coming close to the truth. Finally, she opened the box and just stared. Her big gray eyes got wet and shiny. A squeaky "Thank you" was all she could manage. No jewelry, no matter how expensive, could mean more to her than her mother's picture.
Years ago, when I was student teaching 1st grade, I read a book to the kids about a chicken who wasn't laying eggs, so her owners got her a friend and then she laid eggs.
Not being much of a chicken person, I wasn't sure what this meant. I wasn't sure if they meant the friend had to be a rooster -- it didn't look like a rooster in the illustration. And since I know that chickens lay unfertilizerd eggs all the time, I didn't really think a rooster was necessary for egg laying and I wondered if maybe it was just supposed to be a companionship thing.
Anyway, I intended to sort of gloss over it all when one well-informed little girl let everyone know that it HAD to be a rooster because you had to be married to get babies. Then another little girl piped up saying that couldn't be true, since her aunt had just had a baby and she wasn't married.
Talk about having to make a quick transition to another subject...
That's the same day I fielded the question, "Which came first, God or dinosaurs?"
On 4/18/03, tj wrote: > Sort of a funny story/sort of a chicken question: > > Years ago, when I was student teaching 1st grade, I read a > book to the kids about a chicken who wasn't laying eggs, so > her owners got her a friend and then she laid eggs. > > Not being much of a chicken person, I wasn't sure what this > meant. I wasn't sure if they meant the friend had to be a > rooster -- it didn't look like a rooster in the > illustration. And since I know that chickens lay > unfertilizerd eggs all the time, I didn't really think a > rooster was necessary for egg laying and I wondered if > maybe it was just supposed to be a companionship thing. > > Anyway, I intended to sort of gloss over it all when one > well-informed little girl let everyone know that it HAD to > be a rooster because you had to be married to get babies. > Then another little girl piped up saying that couldn't be > true, since her aunt had just had a baby and she wasn't > married. > > Talk about having to make a quick transition to another > subject... > > That's the same day I fielded the question, "Which came > first, God or dinosaurs?"
I am looking for some songs or poems for a teacher retirement dinner. Guess who is in charge??? The teacher is a first grade teacher. Thanks, and please hurry!!!!
On 5/08/03, Mary Flynn wrote: > On 5/01/03, Alisa wrote: >> 5/1/03 >> >> I am looking for a retirement song to sing at a retirement >> dinner for our department chair. I would prefer something >> spiritual/inspirational if at all possible. > *********************** > Personalized Poems and songs available here for retirements
When God created teachers, He gave us special friends To help us understand His world And truly comprehend The beauty and the wonder Of everything we see, And become a better person With each discovery.
When God created teachers, He gave us special guides To show us ways in which to grow So we can all decide How to live and how to do What's right instead of wrong, To lead us so that we can lead And learn how to be strong.
Why God created teachers, In His wisdom and His grace, Was to help us learn to make our world A better, wiser place.
I am interested in finding more lesson plans for Pre-K/K students. I need to find fun ways to teach Keyboarding, Word Processing, Power Point, and the Internet. I work for a district that has little to no money in the budget so I have to be creative. I have color coded keyboards, flash cards, made up rhymes, and posted paper color coded hands on the monitors. I am looking for some really fun videos, and books that I can use to help with the students. If anyone has any other fun ideas and know of whrere I can look for the videos and books please email me at: patricia.[email removed]
On 5/14/03, Aymes wrote: > to all of you hard working teachers who get a headache at > the end of a long day.....take the advice on the aspirin > bottle label word for word... > > "take 2, keep away from children" > > what could be better advice than that? > > Ha ha > > Have a good rest of the year. > > Aymes in Ohio
I think that this is sooooooooooo funny! Well done I will definatelty remember this one! I have another year of training to do yet and I have lost count of how many asprin's I've gone through already! I have just had a placement in Canada for 5 weeks so now I'm all relaxed again. No asprin's needed whilst I was there. Nikki in England
Try teacher humiliation stories. for the appreciation of the hard working teachers and not getting any rewards for hard work.
On 5/27/03, Wendy wrote: > I need a funny or touching story for my speech at our > Teacher's Appreciation Lunch (elementary school) any > suggestions? Thanks!
Hi, I had a College Professor who began every class with a point to ponder. Most were very humorous and just little things that made his students think. For example: If you put juice in a coffee cup can you still call it a coffee cup? I would love it if you would send me any points that you might be able to come up with for me to use in my classroom. Once I have a list I will gladly pass them on.
If we need teachers, why are schools of education allowed to tell incoming graduate students they "will need to take freshman English" when they APEd out of it in high school--and fight them when they file for a waiver?
On 3/17/08, Ralph Hathcock wrote: > On 7/24/03, Debbie wrote: >> On 6/17/03, Tracy wrote: >>> Hi, I had a College Professor who began every class with a >>> point to ponder. Most were very humorous and just little >>> things that made his students think. For example: If you >>> put juice in a coffee cup can you still call it a coffee >>> cup? I would love it if you would send me any points that >>> you might be able to come up with for me to use in my >>> classroom. Once I have a list I will gladly pass them on. >>> >>> Thanks >> If a white person is born in Africa and moves to the US is he >> or she an African American? > How come you drive on a parkway and park on a driveway??????
Ok, so in my ST experience, I had a great 2nd grader who cracked me up all the time. Just his facial expressions were enough.. So, he asks me what you write if the woman is married, and I told him it's Mrs., and add that it's Miss if she's not married. He questions: what is it if she has a job? (thinking it was Ms. I guess!!) One day during music (in our room) I was working on the computer. The office paged our room and announced something, to which the music teacher yelled back OK, but apparently he wanted to make sure I heard too because he walks back to me, grabs my head and presses my forehead against his, yelling "Did you get that??" LOL!
i just remembered when i slept in school when i was young, at
the time my mom was not living with us because she has to
work abroad to feed us, and my father's mother was not such a
good of a caretakeer to us, so i find myself sleeping in
school. ohhh...
On 3/28/03, Stacy wrote:
> I laughed o...See More