Category Archives: Just Because…

The More Things Change

Late to the party…AGAIN!  Here it is Wednesday, night at that, and I was supposed to be doing the Time Warp on Tuesday but, alas, it did not happen.  My blog post spent the day traveling around in my head, festering and mixing with my Middle School substitute teaching gig.  That is a lot going on in one mind and I already seem to operate on distraction mode.  Wanting to give my hostess, Kathy, at Bereaved and Blessed, my undivided attention, I asked if we could do one of those “day after” kind of things.  You know, like when you have to be too many places on Thanksgiving so you have a dinner the next day.  Personally, I’ve heard of this but my attendance has never been that demanded on any given day.

The theme for this party is April.  Kathy invites us to do the Time Warp and revisit a post we wrote in April, about anything.  And then reflect on how things have changed since then.

Sounds simple.  Problem.  I have not been blogging too terribly long but knew I had at least one April under my belt.  So I checked.  Nothing.  So I checked again.  Nothing.  So then I looked to see what was going on and discovered I had nothing.  I had written nothing last April!  And then it hit me.  I checked back and discovered that last year the closest I came were a few posts that I wrote in March.

Although April is a time of new beginnings and all things blooming, last year I was more stuck in what we called in California, “May Gray.”

Last March,  Madeline had been gone 16 months.  She was 16 months old when she died.  Easter was approaching.  As a dear friend, who also buried a child said, “something about Easter just sends me over the edge.”  Amen.

In addition, I was trying to prepare myself for an upcoming move which would force us to pack away our Sweet Baby Girl’s things and I was having a very hard time coping.  I couldn’t bring myself to put myself out there, so I didn’t.  I retreated.

But before my hiatus I reflected on the realization that Madeline was now gone as long as she had been alive in “Sweet 16, Baby Girl.”

The more things change…the more they stay the same.  Almost a year later and I am still in that place…the place where I still think, “how the HELL am I going to keep doing this.”  The 2nd day of each month, my heart feels a little heavier and tears swim behind my eyes.  And the what if’s and if only’s…they are still there as well.  As for that Detective…yes, I know he might have been doing his job, but I am still mad at him.  Some common sense and compassion would have been nice. Instead of explaining to him what Down Syndrome was and her medical history, I could have been holding my Sweet Girl for a few last precious minutes that I will never, ever get back.  Sadly, the hospital did NOTHING compassionate, whatsoever!  And this still haunts me.  And I still miss her every second of every day.

As counting the months turns to counting the years, the hole in my heart does not seem to heal but the love that Madeline planted there continues to grow.

And this… this I still believe:

“For 16 months I knew I saw a quiet wisdom in her eyes and was sure I must be looking at the face of God… for she was perfect in our eyes.

You are loved Precious Baby Girl, you are loved and adored, and you were and are……………….GOD’S PERFECT CREATION.” 

Back in the Saddle

The last Monday of the month and my friend Lori at, challenges us to find, perhaps, the extraordinary in everyday, or just realize those little moments in your everyday where all is right in your corner of the world, for possibly a moment in time.

As you will read, my moments were not as much perfect as they were defining.

This is quite the task for me this month.  I got to ride on the wave of excitement and euphoria of being cast in Listen to Your Mother – DC for approximately, hmmm, let’s say five days.   It was a wonderful five days, full of excitement, good feelings and possibilities, that hey, just maybe I am a writer.  I was even practicing saying the phrase, “I’m a writer.”  While practicing this affirmation I was trotting around town on my high horse when all of the sudden, WHOA, WHAM…there I was knocked off that horse and flat on my back.

From atop of my high horse, I was then thrown on a busy street and continuously run over by truck full of very heavy items.  Once the trucks had their way with me, I was put limp and lifeless into a Cuisinart and pureed on high speed.

Yeah…I’ve been having fun.

I have to admit I’m a little ashamed.  I have experienced about the worst that a Mommy can, I have my days, but overall I consider myself a tough cookie.  So, why did one phone call, telling me I had to move in 60 days, turn me into a pureed mess?  Why was all the toughness I managed to gather the last 2 years slip away so quickly?

After working so hard this year to establish Johnny in a new school and everyone else into a new home, neighborhood and routine, I felt like I ran right smack into “the wall.”  You know the one, you can’t get over it, under it, or around it.  It is right there in front of you and you feel in a hopeless state.  The idea of Johnny going to yet, one more school, was more than I could take.  He is relatively happy (big for him) likes his school, has a great teacher, and the kids are great with him.  All of this money cannot buy.  I have worked Johnny entire little life for this scenario.  With this as my motivator, I got to work.

Having little pride and no shame, I cast my nets and put out my feelers, asking all I knew, if they knew of anyone moving from our neighborhood and if I could get the landlords information.  We responded to listings that would move us out of our neighborhood but thought maybe we could save some money.  What I learned in all of this is a bit disheartening.  Some of it you might not even believe, but believe me, like I say, I can’t MAKE this stuff up.

It was like I couldn’t give my money away.  And I was trying…very hard.  Landlords who knew their homes were becoming available, didn’t yet know what they wanted to charge, but they wouldn’t tell me what the current rent was because they wanted to increase but they didn’t want me to know by how much.  But they were “good landlords” they fixed the “big” things but not little things, like dishwashers.  Ummmm, no thank you.  I didn’t even bother to go over the definition of “good” with them.

Perhaps my favorite is the gentleman who, after learning where we currently live, won’t rent to us because he didn’t think we would be happy in his house after living in this neighborhood.  Are YOU kidding me, buddy?  What part of I have 60 days to relocate my family and your house keeps my Johnny in the same school did you NOT understand?   Perhaps you don’t know exactly what I will do for that boy!  And his brothers!

Saving the best for last…ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!  Finally, I find a beautiful house, in my neighborhood and I am Johnny on the spot, first phone call, on her door step, deposit in hand, completed life history for application.  Great, all looks great.  Then a couple of days later she informs me she is not taking my check yet, or anyones.  Me, “I thought you indicated you would rent to us?” Her, “Weelll, we’ve decided that my husband wants to review all the applications and then talk to everyone.”  “But I’ll pray about it and you do to.”  “Don’t worry, you’re at the top of the list.”

And with that, I had my moment, not my perfect moment, but a defining moment.  Something snapped, in a good way for once, and I got mad one too many times.  That is it, I hit my limit.  I will never again put myself in a position to beg for help in finding a place to live, or for the “privilege” of renting a home.  I will never put anyone else in that position either.

The praying landlord questioned if the timing of the move to her home would be too much for me.  I am not to be underestimated.  Lady, you have no idea what I am capable of.  When it comes to my boys I will do anything in my power to do what is in their best interest.  And right now, that is continuity.  I have lost count of how many schools Johnny has been to since he was 2 so that tells me it is too many.  His teachers “get him” and so do the kids.  Like I said, I have worked for 11 years to be able to write that sentence.  Oh yeah, and much to his dismay, he gets to be on swim team.  I learned, I can’t explain the value of this to others.  But it is important to me and that is all that matters.  We have had enough upheaval to last a lifetime, and we are done.

In that moment, I learned that even when it feels like I can’t get knocked any lower, I can.  Then, much to my surprise I learned that just when I thought it was impossible, I dug a little deeper and found my fight, my spirit.

Yes, I also learned to balance myself a little better in that saddle, reduce the chances of another WHOA, WHAM incident.

So, here I am, getting back on the horse.  This time with my piggy bank.  Cause now I have to go on down to my local lender and see how much of a down payment I can get out of this little piggy.

Balancing Act



This is supposed to be “semi-wordless” Wednesday, but mine is actually, “Write on and on Wednesday” as I have much to say.  If you have been following Life According to Johnny you might be familiar with the “Krispy Kreme” symbolism.  And that sadly, you are aware that it does not mean I love, love, love donuts and can’t get me enough donuts!  In my “world” it actually symbolizes, ENOUGH, ENOUGH ALREADY!!!…I CAN’T TAKE ONE MORE BITE OF CRAP SANDWICH…AND I AM ON THE EDGE!  What edge?  That edge where people begin to refer to me in terms of…”you know…before she…really lost it, or…well, you fill in the blank.

If you are a little confused about how, when and why Krispy Kreme became an adjective in my life, read here, Krispy Kreme Memories.

Like then I have a certain amount of daily stress and other unseemly weight I carry with me.  I know, who doesn’t?  That said, as well as I “think” I may be doing keeping my life in balance, apparently that balance is of such a delicate nature that the tiniest items added to one side of the scale and WHOOOAAAA, I lose my footing on the tightrope, hit myself in the head with my balancing stick and go into a free-fall, thus becoming the previously unannounced act in my own 3 Ring Circus. 

The result, straight into Krispy Kreme mode and a property manager who has surely changed his phone number by now.

Try as I might, not a day passes that I do not feel the weight of loss and grief for Our Madeline.  I operate that that is a given.  I then worry about giving The Brothers a home where they know their sister is missed but that does not keep them from having a childhood and all the positive things you want for your child.  With all the upset and turmoil they have endured, I worry about yet more change.

As with a lot of things in military life, change is something that is usually out of our control.  The dominoe effect of one military persons move is truly mind boggling.  Last week we were reminded of that fact yet again when (seemingly) out of the blue we were informed that the owners of our house were to be returning to the area.  That phone call packed just enough power to push me right off that tight rope I had been walking with such precision.

Moving, in itself, I know, should not be considered traumatic but given the extenuating circumstances, I am just that…traumatized.  Funny, because I know I’m tougher than that.  After what I have endured this should be nothing but it has turned into a big ol something!  The thought of changing, anything on The Brothers, yet again, feels like too much.  Johnny has been doing so well and I pray this does not pile on a whole new level of anxiety and an escape into his Batman world, which I know feels safe and comforting for him, but not so much for the Mommy.

Our hope is to remain in this little neighborhood and right now I am dedicated to that cause.  So, if I show up at your door…run!

Sadly I know this is NOT the WORST.  I know the WORST and this in comparison is a minor inconvenience, if that. However, when you realize you are running on reserves the idea of an inconvenience seems like yet another bite of crap sandwich and frankly, I am full.

Be that as it may, I better chew each bite 20 times, drink some water, wait for another bite and in the meantime get back to walking that tight rope.

Friday Fun in Crazy Town

They like me, they really, really like me.  Or so she says.  Hilary at Feeling Beachie, invited me back to be the Michael to her Kelly!  I prefer to be Kelly (she has the better shoes) but Hilary has opened up her “home” on the super blogosphere highway, so I will let her wear the cute shoes and I will don my Brooks Brother’s pinstripe and sensible shoes.

Who am I kidding?  I can’t afford Brooks Brothers!  It might come as a shock to you but being a substitute teacher in a Catholic School isn’t exactly a lucrative career choice.  You pretty much do that job because, well, you lack good common sense and have a strange desire to take groups of 30 children to church.  Truth be told, it’s actually easier to take 30 children than The Brothers.  30 kids don’t try to hang on me, beg for donuts or ask for computer games.  They use that prayerful time to reflect on how they can make the substitute crazy when they return to class.

Speaking of crazy…at least I thought we were.  I am a nano-second away from catching the train to crazy town.  My train has no destination, you just go round and round on that track, just like under the Christmas tree.  The ultimate definition of insanity.  My best imitation of a hamster on a wheel.  That hamster’s got nothing on me.  And move over Thomas the Train, I’m coming down the tracks, or around the tracks actually.

Well, you could say I asked for this trip to crazy town.  Why?  I did something bad, very, very bad!  What?  You say, what could be that bad?  I did the unspeakable…I TAUNTED THE MOVING GODS… AND THEN THE MOVING GODS (OR THEIR SPIES) WENT AND TOLD ON WHOEVER IS IN CHARGE THAT I WAS DOING BAD THINGS.  What?  What did I do?  I BRAGGED!  Yep, that’s right, you’re not seeing things!  I went and bragged that I did not have to pack up all my belongings and move anywhere.  So you guessed it, the very next day I get the call, YOU HAVE TO MOVE!!!  I HAVE 60 DAYS TO FIND A NEW HOME, AND RE-PACK EVERYTHING I JUST UNPACKED.  If I am not making any sense in the writing of this it is because I am NUMB!  I don’t even know what number move this is at this point but I don’t think I can count that high.  I can count to 8 though.  Because that’s the number of months that we have lived in this current house.

Needless to say the amount of fun that I have on any given day should be illegal in 47 states.  Like I said, this willy nilly, in your face lifestyle is just not for everyone.  So it was only a matter of time before someone higher up lowered the boom, shut down the circus, made last call, turned on the lights and shut down the disco.  Cause I don’t have to go home but I can’t stay here.

I wonder if my dear co-host would mind if we came and stayed with her.  I think that’s what Kelly and Michael’s families do, right?  Then we could come back next week and have witty host chat.  Well, that is, if “Kelly” isn’t ramming her head into the rubber walls that I’m sure my family would drive her to.

On that note, I will leave “Kelly” to her peaceful abode and get on with the Friday fill-in fun!

P.S.,  Great shoes, Kelly!

The statements are:

1.       My first car was a _____

2.       My___ is so ____

3.       I would drop everything to _____

4.       I never tell people I once.­­____

Everything you wanted to know about me but were afraid I would tell you. In other words, my responses:

1.  My first car was a 1988 Honda Civic with manual steering and a stick shift, which I didn’t know how to drive but it was all I could afford.  Steep learning curve.

2.  My brain is so so very numb.  And when I resume feeling it is not going to be pretty because I can’t believe I HAVE TO MOVE AGAIN!!!

3.  I would drop everything to watch someone else, anyone else, pack up my house and move it.  To anywhere!  I don’t care!  I never want to see any of this crap again!

4.  I never tell people I once considered myself a sane person.  No one would believe it anyways.

Happy Friday, people!  Have a drink on me, then get yourself over here and start packing!  Crazy town is open for business.


Moving Day!

Moving Day!

Being a good military wife and all, there is one of many skills that needs to constantly be honed to stay in tip-top, Military Wife condition.  Never wanting to be caught “off-guard”, we must stay on top of “our game”.  It is for our sanity and the good of our families existence. Without it, we would live in or out of a cardboard box…literally. That Dear Reader, would be the skill set to, on a moments notice (or less), be able to see at which warp speed and agility I can have my families entire existence packed into boxes and relocated to another “home” where, if I’m lucky, and not suffering from situational whiplash, at least 85% of our treasures will be unpacked and haphazardly “displayed” in said new “home.”  IF…and only if…I’m lucky.

Luck and other things like if the truck arrives on the right day, Johnny isn’t yelling at packers to stop trying to “steal his toys”, The Captain is with us, nobody is in the hospital, nobody is being potty trained and the sky isn’t opening up with snow or rain.  All true stories…but I digress.

But…as luck would have it The Captain has NOT been ordered to pack it up and move it on.  So here I am, left with nothing to pack, nothing to move.  And more tragically, no more excuses for my house looking like we just moved in.  Or my second favorite excuse…we are getting ready to move.

All that being considered, I did the most logical thing…I FOUND something to move.  My BLOG!  That’s right.  Just like a big grown up 18-year-old that has learned all they need to know and are ready to conquer the world, I have taken the big leap into the “real” world.  No more curfew, I can stay up all night, eat cake for breakfast, chips for dinner.  Heck, I can even do all that in the living room.  NOW, that’s what I call living the LIFE.  Well, that, and a little red wine…or more…that is situational as well.

I have learned from some of the best.  And their words of wisdom whispered in my ear.  Don’t be a FOOL, get all hands on deck.  Summons the troops.  Don’t go it alone.  And if you do, DO NOT coming whining to us.  Weeelll, they are some pretty awesome best, so they would still help.  But at the least, would definitly tell me to stop whining.  Or is that my Dad.  Anywho.

With all that in mind I called in the troops, the Professionals.  And with help from Jessica at Jelly Fish Web ( and much cheerleading from the sidelines of the blogosphere, I have packed it in and moved on up.

That’s right.  Out there on my own.   And since my Mom wouldn’t let me change my name when I was 6 to Diane, like I begged, I am taking back my power and giving my blog a new name…Life According to Johnny.    I even did a little redecorating. Never called Nate Berkus once.  I hope you like what I did with the place.

You will notice I even hung up some pictures!  Thanks to Matt at and his magical lighting and talent.  If you are in the D.C./Northern Virginia area, give him a call.  He can also make your family look perfect and well-behaved.

I am excited to invite you over and give you my new name and address.  Please write it down and stop by often.  I made sure I got extra space so all 10 of you can bring a friend.

Excuse the dust but please come by, have a drink, a laugh or a sigh and visit at  You should not have trouble finding me as I have a shiny new address sign as well.  Check it out:

LATJ Button 3

If you want one for your address book go to my front porch and take one of my calling cards, I got one for each of us.

Please forgive the mess while I settle into my new home.  Despite all of my bragging, I’m not so good at the unpacking business.  Pssst…don’t tell the Navy…they might make me practice!






Guest Blogger – The Little Brother

My guest blogger…The Little Brother.  Even though until today he did not know I had brown eyes, he is still watching my every move.  In his defense he explained because I am always taller than him so it has been hard to see.  But I guess this “short stuff” might be churning around in his not so wee mind because he felt the urge to “blog.”  I let him have at it.

Please give him the guest treatment and maybe a little feedback, you will make his day.

Now is your chance, he could be on the Life Coach circuit and be too busy to get back to you.

It`s Tough Being my Age and Size but we can get Through our Life.

Hi! I`m the “the little brother” and I know its tough being the yougest it`s like being the runt of the litter. It feels like nobody feels your pain and I know it. Most people think we can`t achieve much but look at James Madison he was only about 5ft. tall and he became president.Now if he did that we don`t you think we could acomplish stuff to.Don`t let those people get to you because we can do things to.It doen`t matter your age or size you can be the fastest in your class or smartest anyway.So do what you can and show what you can acomplish.Little bro out!Good luck everybody!

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Perfect Moment – No whiners or quitters

Perfect Moment Monday with Lori at LavenderLuz.  A time to reflect on the crazy, chaotic and possibly disappointing times of the past month and realize the one moment when all was right in your world.

I started blogging not quite two years ago.  The result of not so gentle nudging by dear friends who insisted, after hearing the tales of my daily chaos, that I needed to start a blog.  A what?  I didn’t know much about blogs let alone writing my own.

Trust me, they said, this is good stuff.  You have funny kids and a compelling story.  If you write, they will read.  “You think so?”  “Yes, I know so,” was her response.  And with that I jumped into the deep end, with no life jacket and began to doggy paddle upstream through the blogosphere.

On a not particular schedule I began blogging away about Johnny, his brothers, and our Madeline.  Much to my surprise, it began to take on a little life of its own.  “Hey!” this blogging thing is kind of fun, I thought.  So, I blogged on.

I was holding up my end of the bargain by writing but the readers must have lost the memo on their end, because, well, the readers, they were playing hard to get.  That term “viral”, yeah, you know the one…has not happened.  No one has died of the funny and had to tell millions of their “friends” about what is happening with Johnnypsmom at Life According to John.

Offers to publish Johnny’s wit and wisdom, have not been rolling in.  But that’s okay because he has his own little cult following that he doesn’t even know or care about for that matter.

For the most part I have just continued to entertain myself, if no one else.  And if I questioned my own motives or direction I could hear my Dad’s voice in my head echoing the words I heard for 40 plus years, “I did not raise a whiner, quitter or complainer, so on I blogged.

 Then I got braver and hooked up with a few blog hops and even made blogger friends.  “What’s the secret?”  I would ask.  “There is no secret, just keep writing.”  Don’t give up, just keep writing.  Eventually opportunities will come your way.  For me?  I really began to question this line of thinking as I dove further over my head into the blogosphere.

Then one day I got really, really Brave and BOLD, and with additional cheerleading from Kathy  at  Bereaved and Blessed and others, I took a piece I wrote, made 4 copies and took myself over to parts unknown, Virginia to audition for the 2013 Listen to Your Mother-DC  show.  With a deer in the headlights look about me and fueled by anxiety,  I proceeded to read for a coveted part in the 12 person cast.

After a nerve-wracking twelve days of waiting , I had my perfect moment, one of a lifetime: 

Announcing the 2013 LTYM DC Cast!  And there was my name, on the list!  I am honored and thrilled to be a part of this show.  To have my voice be heard.

I guess my friend was right, after all, write it and the readers will read.  And, of course, Dad was right..”Don’t quit, Ames.”  “Nothing will happen if you quit.”

So, here I am, a non-quitter who wrote.   Dear readers I hope to see all 10 of you on April 28, 2013, to hear my voice and all 12 voices as we give a shout out to Motherhood!  Never know, could end up being your perfect moment to.

We all Scream for Ice Cream

When Johnny was about three or four I took he and Little Brother to a high school production of a musical featuring Disney songs and characters.  All the greats were there, Mickey, Minnie, Ariel, Nemo, Simba.  I was prepared for a morning of dancing in our seats and little boys with big smiley faces.

THAT is not what happened.

I believe it ended up being my first lesson in “be prepared” for ANYTHING… all the time.   Because there was only one smiling face that morning, Little Brother.  Johnny, well, it was hard to get a good look at his face due to his screams of terror, his thrashing in his seat and his attempts to escape.  So, I chased him up and down much to the audience’s delight and tried to engage him in the show.  NOTHING DOING!  This was HELL and he wanted out, NOW!

That morning ended with me pacing the first of many lobbies to contain Johnny.  Little Brother watched the show in another Mom’s lap.  It might have been the first, but it was certainly not the last time this scenario played out.

Johnny was already in a Special Education pre-school class for “developmental delays” but this added to my ever-growing concern that there was more to the story.  Outings of any kind were a crap shoot.  You never knew which environment he would enjoy and which would cause him to scream bloody murder in a panic like state.

What was going on?  Too much!  That’s what was going on.  Too many people, too dark, too loud, too bright, too much music, too much clapping, too much surround sound.

The scary part, when put in these situations, he would just run, out the door, with no concern of knowing where he was or anyone around him.  He just wanted out.  So he would run and then find a place to hide.  If it was a “familiar” place, I would at least have a peace of mind to know his “go to” places.  But unfamiliar places were a nightmare.  One minute he was there, the next minute…gone.  One time we were at a tailgate party and finally found him hiding in a port a potty.  THAT’S  how much he hated crowds and noise. Those drinkers waiting in line looovvved him.  That’s okay, they weren’t the first or last to give me the you suck as a parent stare.

It seems only logical that knowing this about him, we would keep him away from any and all crowds.  Problem is, that’s extremely isolating and I thought would only eventually worsen the problem.  But the biggest reason is I wanted so badly for us to be able to do “normal” things as a family, altogether.   But ever so slowly I began to accept that this would not be the case.  Our reality was different.  One parent went on the “outing” and one stayed with Johnny or took him to a “safe” place for him.  Which, at the time, involved any place with a train.

As he has gotten older, with different behavior therapy and some better coping skills (for everyone) most outings have gotten easier.  He can also be convinced to “tolerate” a place with the promise of a “treat”.  For him, this involves pizza or ice cream.  He will do most anything for  ice cream with chocolate syrup.

But lately I have wondered who it is for.  Me or him?  And is it “fair” to him to push him into these anxiety fueled situations?  Is it helping?  Is he really learning to cope any better.  Or am I possibly causing him greater anxiety?  And is that anxiety almost fear, like “no way out, I have no way out.”

Don’t get me wrong, we do not, on a daily basis, put him in situations we know cause such stress and anxiety.  But at times, it is unavoidable.  And at times one of us quietly excuses ourselves and remove Johnny from the “too much” of whatever is stressing him out.

I have been thinking about this in relation to things or activities that I greatly dislike and cause some stress and anxiety.  For example, last week we were going as a family to watch Big Brother play basketball.  On the car ride The Captain was listening to a CD of  heavy metal music.  I HATE heavy metal music!  I thought I was going to come out of my skin!  When finally it was turned off I actually said, “Thank God!”  I hate that stuff.

And this is only an occasional occurrence for me.  Unlike Johnny, whose whole world seems to be stress inducing.

This caused me to reflect on the expectations we put on him.  In the interest of what?  And for what… Ice cream?  Because I got to thinking, I would not EVER take a ride in a car with blaring heavy metal music by choice.  And certainly not for the promise of a stinking ice cream.  

In the end we do it for him, I believe.  For his future, to help him learn to cope with a world that  seems to have an unfair advantage over Autism.   Maybe the world and autism could meet in the middle…maybe, someday, for Johnny’s sake, and not just for ice cream.

Semi Wordless Wednesday – This Love


Story Time.

Story Time.

All you need is this kind of love!


Friday Fun – Let the Good Times Roll

Hilary at Feeling Beachie says it is time for some Friday Fun!  I’m in.  I’m all about the good time.   After you read, I’m sure you will agree.

Just today I had more fun than one individual should be allowed by law.  In fact, when word of my day spreads, I’m sure there will be an investigation.  You can’t go willy-nilly  living your life in such a wildin your face manner without expecting to pay the piper.  I mean, what would become of society.  We’re already in a world of hurt, state of utter mayhem, so please, after you read, keep it under wraps…please?  And thank you.

Okay, okay, I’ll stop baiting you and just get on with it.  I’m sorry I cannot give out my personal information such as address and phone numbers so you could come cavorting but like I said, we don’t need any authorities involved.  Okay, enough teasing…here goes.  Hold on to your hat!

Well, TWICE, yes I said TWICE this week I was the substitute librarian at the school.  I got to use the cool checker inner thingy.  LOVE that thing!  And I got to read to little people.  I even got a round of applause.  Yay me!  Not too bad, if I do say so myself.  They loved my dramatic interpretation of “Arthur’s Big Valentine”.    Eat your heart out, Shakespeare!

So today, with Johnny in tow, I make my grand entrance into the school.  All ready to use the checker inner thingy, sip some coffee, practice the Dewey Decimal System,  then make a dash and get Johnny to his school.  Like I said, too much fun, is just that…too much.  And just as I expected the authorities got all involved.  Yep, that’s right…The Vice Principal.  Not the total Big Guns, but big enough to know the party was over.  Cause she was waiting to inform me, that NO, I was not going to sip coffee and recite the Dewey Decimal System.  And forget about the checker inner thingy.

She told me to pack it up, cause, I was going to… say it isn’t so… to TEACH MIDDLE SCHOOL GRAMMAR.  Like I was tolding you say it ain’t so!  Just like that, without warning, I was sacrificed to the Middle School Wing where all I could see for miles (well, maybe feet) were a whole lot of kids a whole lot taller than ME!

That’s okay, though, I walk small but carry a mean stick.

And after a short time it was pretty clear that not much has changed in the Middle School classroom since I was on the other side of the desk, a few too many years ago to mention.  Yep, the game, pull one over on the sub is still alive and well.

Problem for them, I KNOW ALL THEIR NAMES.  My kid is in their class and  I know their parents phone numbers!  So, WHY, would they think I would not notice if they all sat in a different seat.  I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed but I can read a seating chart!  Geesh, some credit please!  Or like I told them…and I thought you were smart kids.

Oh yeah, and kids, if what you claimed were the teachers rules, NOBODY would hate Middle School…EVER!  Despite the social torture… with that kind of resort classroom environment, everyone would be so darn happy, having so much fun, there wouldn’t be time to mentally torture your peers!

Heck, maybe I would have even liked Middle School and even my Dear ol Dad said he never wanted me back in Middle School.  Guess I was just that delightful.  But I digress…

And another piece of exciting news…again…don’t tell the fun police…IT’S OFFICIAL… After today, I have officially subbed in every grade in the school.  From pre-school to 8th grade.  Now that’s a solid resume, right there.  But, alas, you know what they say, Jack of all trades, master of none.  Guess the party’s over.

But not until I get to the Four Friday Fill In…

This week’s statements:
1. Sometimes I _____ that is why______
2. All I ___________ for ______________ is ____________.
3. I _____________ therefore ____________.
4. McDonalds’ is _______________ and ______________.

What I have to say about all of this fun

1.  Sometimes I can’t get enough of a good time that is why I substitute teach.

2.  All I ever wanted for myself is to enjoy what I do all day.

3.  I am a twisted individual therefore I have a twisted idea of what is an enjoyable day.

4.  McDonalds’ is a perfect example of a horrible meal and I am in their drive thru on a regular basis.  Not proud, it’s just the facts.  And remember, I said I’m all about a good time.

So, with that in mind…HAVE A DRINK ON ME and LET THE GOOD TIME’S ROLL!  McDonald’s diet cokes for everyone!!!!