I'm losing my mind.

The week before TCAP is about to start.

I keep getting warned that it's going to be insane. Everyone will be stressed. The kids will be nuts. Nothing will be normal.

But, I need to tell you guys, last week was already abnormal. I'm not sure what happened. It was like somebody switched out my coffee with alcohol and gave all the kids Red Bulls before they got into my room.

It all started with a meeting on Monday. Nobody loves meetings--especially on Mondays--but some combination of my cinnamon dolce latte and a very sudden sense of confidence led to not one, not two, but FOUR compliments on how professionally I handled myself during said meeting. Four compliments in one day is UNHEARD OF, and it set the tone for the rest of the UNHEARD OF week.

Here's a list of other things that happened, in no particular order.

1. I tried to help my kids remember "thesaurus" by making them pretend to be dinosaurs.

We all made tiny t-rex arms and chirped "synonym" and "antonym" in unison while waving our talons. I also used a meme to teach them about semicolons.

2. I used a Batman voice more than once. 

Mostly when I needed particular kids' attention. I also made the kids use it to remember "entrepreneur" for Social Studies vocabulary.

3. I spoke in a Chinglish accent.

I also let my homeroom, who finished early on Friday, watch the short video I made about mooncakes while I was in China.

4. The kids came up with awesome logos for class t-shirts.

Mrs. Mays' class (my switch class) came up with the "Mockingmays" (so I had to play the Mockingjay soundtrack while they designed the shirts) and my AMAZING homeroom came up with "Love's Lil' Gremlins" (tagline: Don't feed us after midnight).

5. I made the kids close their eyes while I gave a very animated rendition of "The Three Little Pigs".

In which the wolf, in his valley-girl voice, said that he could "totally blow down that pig's house."

I promise we were using this to talk about plot sequence.

6. Even my good kids were not physically able to stay in their seats.

"Miss Love, can I PLEASE stand up??" was asked more than once.

7. A fire drill and a soft lockdown happened in the same day.

After which no more learning took place. However, I completely terrified my homeroom for the very first time--and I mean, COMPLETELY TERRIFIED them--and they worked silently at their desks until the end of the day. An entire 45 minutes. I was so empowered.

8. Sweets were everywhere.

Between my teammates buying Gigi's for everyone (but mostly for Mrs. Mays and me, as a prize for getting through our meeting), my making cookies, and the eighth grade teachers having cupcakes on Friday, it was a good time.

9. "Miss Love, is it ok to swallow plastic?"

Not the weirdest thing that was said to me the entire week.

10. Good relational moments with my kids.

I'm trying very hard to inject as much love and encouragement into them as I can, because we only have 25-or-so days left together. And, while I'm more ready to be finished with the school year than they are, I know how badly I'll miss them when it's all over.

On top of these things was another meeting on Wednesday afternoon, an inservice on Thursday afternoon, and complete inability to function on Friday afternoon.

I am SO not ready for the tornado this week will be.

My children are fabulous.

That time when I cried in church.

Last Sunday I skipped out on my church and went to church with Morgan instead.

Why?

To watch my nephews get dedicated, and to cry.

It all began very well. I snapped a bunch of pictures on Morgan's phone, laughed when the guy up front read their names wrong, and teared up as they were being prayed for.

Then we started singing, and suddenly I was thinking about my kids in China--Fabio most of all.

This was the progression of my thoughts:

It's so wonderful to see the church come together around these children.

My nephews have people who will teach them the gospel!

My kids in China don't have this.

What if I never see them again? Ever?

Every song after that was a complete disaster for my vocal chords because I could NOT stop thinking about them.

My kids in China came from privileged homes. Their mothers didn't do drugs during pregnancy. They were well fed, cared for, and on the path to success, which is much more than I can say for some of my kids here. 

Their opportunities to hear and see the gospel are fewer and farther between, however. And isn't that all that really matters? I would rather them live a life of poverty with the Lord --His joy, strength, love, and acceptance--than a life of privilege without him.

So I cried in church, because I missed Fabio and the rest of my Chinese children. 

I cried because I want them to have what my nephews have. 

I cried because I may be the only person in the world who prays for them.

Spring Break

One of the perks of being a teacher is that, when you're absolutely on verge of crazy, you get a built-in break. Like Spring Break, which is conveniently scheduled the week after students start popping out of their desks and spinning around in circles at random (yes, even my good kids were doing this).

I, too, was spinning in circles in my head.

It was time to get out.

So on Tuesday, right after having the dentist tell me that I might need a filling replaced in six months (we won't discuss my feelings about the dentist), I jumped into my car and drove straight into a thunderstorm. That storm followed me all the way down Asheville Highway. If you'd been sitting in my car, this is what you would have heard: 

"C'MON, LITTLE BABY CAR. YOU CAN MAKE IT AROUND THAT SEMI TRUCK. YOU ARE A LADY. YOU HAVE POWER. YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN 45. I BELIEVE IN YOU. WE ARE NOT DYING TODAY!"

Anyway, I made it to Christina's house in Charlotte, and the next day we headed for--you guessed it--the beach. Hilton Head, specifically.

Sidenote: Christina is one of my best friends from college, and is also a teacher. She's wonderful. *coughcoughandsingleandavailableandgreatwifematerialcoughcough*

We stayed in a Ramada that had no signs indicating that it was a Ramada. The sign outside the lobby still said "Quality Inn & Suites" and the sign by the road was blank with the outline of "Applebee's" on it. It was, however, a good experience--minus some orange chunks in the microwave and our alarm clock going off at 6 a.m.

We spent the afternoon at a random beach and got dinner at a restaurant that served alligator bites. 

I don't know what that means.

That plate in my hands? A shrimp and crab salad. I thought that meant crab and shrimp on a salad, but it actually meant gooey chicken salad with seafood instead of chicken.

(It was gross.)

The next day we spent ALL DAY at a nice beach. And do you know what happened to me? What always happens to me??

My kneecap got sunburned. Not my arms, legs, face, or shoulders.

My kneecap.

We also did a lot of this: 

That night, we thought it would be fun to get dressed up and go to a nicer spot on the island, called Harbor Town. What we didn't know is that Harbor Town is inside of a resort, Sea Pines, and that you have to pay $6 to get into the resort. We also didn't know that there are only five dinner restaurants there, which serve almost the entire resort.

Needless to say, we didn't eat until the time that we normally go to bed.

But we got some nice pictures.

Do you see these two faces? They are the faces of beautiful women who are 100% NOT THINKING ABOUT CLASSROOMS OR PAPER. ESPECIALLY NOT PAPER.

The next day, we began the trek back home and decided to stop in Savannah for lunch--which was a leftover Publix sandwich and some popcorn (popped in the hotel lobby, NOT the chunk-filled microwave in our room).

We visited a park and a cemetery before it was suddenly 84 degrees and time to go home.

Because we are still teenagers at heart, we spent that night at her house eating ice cream, watching a Hallmark movie, playing Trivia Crack, and talking about boys.

Today, Asheville Highway traffic was waiting for me--but Lemonjuice and I were ready with foreign pop music and wicked dance moves (you are WELCOME, grandmas and grandpas in the cars around me). 

On Monday, I'll return to my spinning children. I'm sure some of them will have more to show for their time at the beach than a sunburned kneecap.

Ten vs. Now

When I was ten vs. now (twenty-four) (adult) (woman):

Ten: I had conversations with imaginary friends at my magic cauldron on the backside of my invisible castle.

Now: I have conversations with imaginary people in my car. 

To practice for adult conversations, like interviews or explaining why I'm so weird.

Ten: I read a lot of books. 

Now: I beg ten-year-olds to read a lot of books.

Ten: Fashion was not an issue I worried about.

Now: Fashion is still not an issue I worry about. My teenage sister dresses me.

Ten: My dream car was a hot pink monster truck. 

Now: My dream car is a tiny yellow Spark. OH WAIT, I OWN ONE.

Ten: I had two imaginary boyfriends named Cameron and Colin.

Now: I have zero boyfriends, real or imaginary. I do get revved at by pickup trucks sometimes, though. 

It's probably the little yellow car.

Ten: If you had asked what my talents were, I would have told you crochet, memorizing geography songs, and playing piano. 

Now: If you ask what my talents are, I will tell you baking, doing the Wobble, and making kids laugh. 

Ten: I wore a lot of purple.

Now: I wear whatever Audrey gives me. 

Oh, wait. We already talked about that.

Ten: My best friend was Morgan Franklin.

Now: My best friend is Morgan's baby.

Ten: I saved money for toys.

Now: I save money for hair products and plane tickets.

Ten: PBS Kids was the best hour or two of my day.

Now: I like to watch Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations and The Pioneer Woman because those two shows combined would be my ideal life.

Ten: YEAH MACARONI!

Now: YEAH SALAD!

...

AND DONUTS!

Ten: I was in fifth grade.

Now: I teach fifth graders. And I'm a little jealous of them.

I don't know what was in my hand, but I hope it was food.