Ugly Crying on the Beach

If I ever write a book, I think I’m going to title it, “Ugly Crying on the Beach”.

Catchy, right?

I know. I’m so stinkin’ creative.

Anyway, you know that awesome vacation I was so super excited about?

Well, much of it was spent ugly crying on the beach. Not entirely unlike this:

ugly crying

I mean… Ew.

Why, you ask?

WHY?! Why would I spend most of my vacation if not actually ugly crying, then trying not to ugly cry on the beach?



Well, for starters…

I mean…

It was all…

Okay, looking back, none of these things probably actually warranted ugly crying on the beach… in front of everyone…

But at the time…

I was all discombobulated and overwhelmed and overwrought.

There was the allergic reaction over half my body had to the sun.


The big, burning globe up in the sky? Yeah. Apparently, that side note that the doctor mentioned three years ago about me having a slight allergy to the sun? Yeah… apparently, that’s an actual THING. Which is why over half my body broke out into these hideous boil-like swollen hives… that had to be iced and aloed and calmed the frick down with lots and lots of Benedryl.

I mean… it was ridiculous. I put on a bathing suit for the first time in a decade and my entire body decided to revolt. So, of course, I had to spend the rest of the trip covered up underneath umbrellas, popping Benedryl and keeping any sun exposure down to a minimal.

Meanwhile, in other parts of the beach condo, Jack’s chillens were all spazzing because apparently he was spending more time on the vacation with me than he was with them, and so they brain-stormed these crazy elaborate plans to manipulate every possible situation so as to keep me at arm’s length and make it known that just because it was okay for me to hang out with them at home… vacations were a completely different beast and I just needed to…



Even though… in my defense… I barely saw the guy all vacation. And every time he would even venture to sit near me, there were dislocated shoulders and projectile vomiting and pandemonium and chaos of near apocalyptic proportions… all in an attempt to keep him away from me. And if we did manage to sneak in a moment here or there, there ensued a great wailing and gnashing of teeth about how he never spent time with them and they’d barely seen them all week and this was the worst vacation ever. And I was all trying to figure out what happened to the previously wonderful kiddos I had grown to know and love. Apparently, they had decided to take a vacation too… while the cyborgs filling in for them plotted my demise.

And then of course there was the food poisoning from a local waffle place, trying to be on my best behavior because I was on vacation not only with my guy’s kids, but also his parents, and the constant bickering, complaining and drama coming from the pre-teens. Oh, and apparently, while I was away, every work e-mail that has ever existed in the history of work e-mails needed to be answered that week… and also, there was the homeless meth head wandering the halls of my apartment building in my absence…

So… YAY!!!

So, by the time my sister called to see how things were going, I was all…


Can I go home now?

Suffice to say, it was wonderful coming home to more screaming kids to nanny and even more confused kids to tutor.

Apparently, I needed a vacation from my vacation.

And now that everything is back to normal (Jack’s chillens no longer hate me, and my skin is no longer breaking out… although it is still in the process of healing from that horrible, ugly sun) I want to go back and try it all over again.


Geeze, Annie… you’re just never happy, are you?




Ms. Evans needs a time-out.


Have you ever had those times when no matter how many ways you approach a subject or how many techniques you use to teach it, or how many times you go over it, or how often you review it, or how often you beat your students over the head with the information… THEY STILL JUST DON’T GET IT?!

And you’re all…

This is not happening…

So, you’re like, “Clearly, I need a different approach. And we need to review. And we need to go over this. One. More. Time.”

And so you do. And you spend ANOTHER two weeks on it and still they’re…

As though this is an entirely new concept they have never even heard of before.

Until you’re just…

Seriously. You are clearly incapable of learning anything. Unless it’s the new Taylor Swift song. Whatever. Just… go away.

And then YOU get blamed for being the reason why all of American society is so stupid because clearly you don’t know how to teach, when you just want to scream, “Um, DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU PEOPLE THAT YOUR CHILDREN ARE JUST STUPID?!?!”

And then you’re put on unpaid leave because apparently that’s not okay to say or something…

Okay, so clearly I don’t feel that way about my kids. I adore my kids. They are the best things about my day. But if I have to teach SUBJECTS and PREDICATES ONE MORE FREAKIN’ TIME… HEADS ARE GOING TO ROLL, PEOPLE.

How hard is this? HOW HARD?!?!

On my last test, I asked them to circle the subjects (the thing the sentence is about… it’s usually at the beginning of a sentence) in the sentences that followed. You see the part I put in parentheses? I actually put that ON THE TEST. So there would be no confusion. And a bunch of them failed it. Then on the retake, I put the same thing in BOLD LETTERING. They actually did WORSE on the retake, than they did on the original.

That’s not even humanly possible.

Why do I even bother?

I just… I just… it’s not even… I mean… why do… how come… how can… what the…


No. Words.

Clearly, Ms. Evans needs a time-out.


Catholicism is hard, you guys.

So, being a protestant and working in a Catholic School can be a challenge. There are still a lot of things I don’t understand. Like the holy water, the genuflecting, the bowing, the transubstantiation… the list could go on. The thing is, I totally love, respect and admire all these things (Like, genuinely. I think going to Sunday mass is the coolest thing ever. It’s pretty much the highlight of my weekends. It’s the most reverent and respectful way of worshiping God and I love it.) but I’m confused by all the “How Tos”.

For instance, the tabernacle is in front of the church, so we genuflect before taking our seats. However, we also genuflect in the side aisles when the tabernacle is not in front of us… so what are we genuflecting at? The tabernacle? Because if that’s the case, why not just go up the center aisle and do it the right way?

And before stepping onto the altar, one bows. And any time one passes in front of the altar, one bows. And honestly, when one is setting up for mass, there’s a whole lot of bowing going on. But before the priests step foot on the altar they genuflect… so… why? Because of the tabernacle? I guess that would make sense. I guess I just answered my own question so… nevermind.

And the holy water font. I never use it. My kiddos do, but I’m kind of like… “But I’m a protestant. Does it still work on protestants?” I kid, I kid. But I’m so not familiar with that ritual, that I feel weird doing it. But if I don’t use it, am I not setting a good example for my kiddos? And if I do use it, and people know I’m not a Catholic, will they be all…

Man, they just let anyone use the holy water these days…

Who knows. I don’t know. Nobody knows.

And the shame… oh the SHAAAAAAAME of not being able to receive communion. I swear everyone is watching. And everyone is judging. And everyone is wondering, “What the heck kind of sin do you have to commit to be prevented from taking communion?! And why the heck are you teaching our children?!” And I’m pretty sure everyone is all…

They just let anyone into mass now…

And I’m all…

I mean, it’s basically like trying to fit in in a foreign country. I try to pretend like I know what I’m doing, but I’m pretty sure everyone is onto me.

So, you can imagine my chagrin and horror when one of my kiddos – one of my precious gifts from God – decided to do the unthinkable in mass. While she was receiving the Eucharist. Not anyone else’s kiddo. THE PROTESTANT TEACHER’S KIDDO.

She stuck out her tongue.

With the wafer on it.

Not once.

Not twice.


Of course, I didn’t see it, because she was behind me, but a few old ladies came hobbling up that center aisle really quick after mass to let me know of the unpardonable sin my child had committed.

So, when they told me, the part of me who is trying to learn and embrace the Catholic ways was all…


But the Protestant part of me who still rules much of my rational mind was all…

She’s eight…

And then when they said to me, “Can you IMAGINE if it had fallen on the FLOOR?!?!” again, my protestant brain was all…

“Um… I don’t know… God’s grace would still have abounded to the silly shenanigans of an 8 year old hoodlum? OR… she would have been smote. One or the other.”

I’m not trying to downplay what she did. It was inexcusable. She KNOWS that when we receive communion we are receiving Jesus’ actual body into our own. You don’t play around with that stuff. And yet… I don’t know… could we just… you know… chill out?

So, here, both sides of my brain are duking it out and I’m not sure what to think but I know I need to put the fear of God into little Miss Sassy Pants and read her the riot act, but I no sooner get done bringing her to tears when the 3 little old ladies hobble up to BOTH priests to… I don’t know… tell on an eight year old?!

And I’m thinking, “Aw, crap. There goes the best job I’ve ever had.” And then the rest of the day I’m looking over my shoulder, fairly certain that one of the Fathers is going to jump out when I least expect it and give me the talking to of MY life. But… no.

So, when I get home, I send an e-mail apologizing profusely for the sacrilege and profanity brought about by this eight year old darling and literally… the response I get… is this:

So, I’m all…

And then they’re all, “Well, it’s a big deal, but it’s not a big deal so… we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Which, I’m pretty sure is priest-speak for blowing someone off.

So, even though I’m relieved, I’m also so confused.

Catholicism is hard, you guys.



Things That Made Me Go “Hmm…” – Week 30

Okay, kids. Let’s try this again. If you happened to read my earlier post (which you didn’t) you’ll know I was too busy wallowing in self-pity and “Mer”-dom to actually write anything of substance. But after a little bit of wallowing and a whole lot of coffee, I’m much better now.

Let’s do this.

Here’s the list of Things That Made Me Go, “Hmm…”:

Plus, who doesn’t look good in a sailor uniform? No one. That’s who.

Spencer Platt / Getty Images

Spencer Platt / Getty Images

  • My sister recently introduced me to this brilliant website called “GoNoodle”. It offers a ton of brain break videos for those days when the kiddos can’t seem to focus and sit still. I’m also assuming these videos would be useful for staff meetings, church, airport layovers, or while you wait for your woman to finally be done getting ready. I mean… I’m just thinking outside the box here, but the videos seem like fun for fully grown adults too so, why the heck not?

My sentiments exactly.

  • And lastly, the most terrifying animal on the face of the earth. (No wonder so many people hate cats… still, you gotta wonder what made him that way…)

Alrighty, kids. That’s all I have this week. Tune in next week for another exciting episode of… well… just wait… you’ll see.

Gif Sources:,

Things That Made Me Go, “Hmm…” – Week 29

Alright, kiddos. I’m not going to lie. This week’s post is pretty desperate. There was a lot of scrounging that took place this morning. That is not to say that there’s nothing interesting worth mentioning, it’s just that it was a relatively slow week for things that made me excited, enraged or produced feelings of one kind or another. SOOOO… without further delay… here’s the list of things that made me go “Hmm…” this week.

Photo credit Pete Souza / White House.

Photo credit Pete Souza / White House.

Photo Credit Gerald Herbert / Associated Press

Photo Credit Gerald Herbert / Associated Press

  • This:


Just because.

  • For all my teacher peeps, I recently stumbled across some brilliant classroom ideas on Teachers Pay Teachers, including this set of memes for classroom rules. They are hilarious, and I totally plan on using them in my classroom. Including the following:


Because it cracks me up, every, single, time.

Alright, peepsters. That’s all I gots this week. Over n’ out, good buddies. Catch you on the flip side. Or… something to that effect.

So, that was my day… How was yours?

You guys…


To recap…

  • Two children didn’t stop talking… or moving… all day long. Not once. Not ever. Not even to catch their breath. “Squirrels on acid” took on a whole new meaning for me today.
  • I only had to use my “angry teacher voice” 19 and a half times today. And by “angry teacher voice” I mean, shout at the top of my lungs just to be heard over the chaos. The nurse across the hall may have heard. I may have been embarrassed. I may have had no other choice.
  • Approximately 2 and a half butterflies chose today of all days to emerge from their cocoons, adding a whole extra layer of pandemonium to an already chaotic classroom. “MOOOOVE! I CAN’T SEE! MS. EVANS, SO AND SO HAS BEEN LOOKING FOREVER AND I HAVEN’T GOTTEN A CHANCE TO SEE YET! YOU CALLED OUR TABLE LAST TO COME UP AND LOOK AT THEM! THAT’S NOT FAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRR!!!!” Oh. My. Lord.
  • A child celebrated their “not real, but we have to celebrate your summer birthday at some point during the school year so every child feels special and not a single one feels left out” birthday today. They may have brought in cupcakes with copious amounts of sugar. I may have sent the whole bunch of them to music class shortly thereafter.
  • We talked about inventions. At least half the class was super amused by repeating over and over and OVER again that the toilet was an invention.
  • Epic mean girl battles were instigated and waged throughout the day. It was all very dramatic. I didn’t know mean girls existed in first grade. But they do… oh, do they ever.
  • Many lectures were given. Students may have been instructed to put their heads down on their desks more than once.
  • Not a single ovary was pinged. Not once. Not even close.

And yet, despite all of that, I got hugs and pictures and comments of “Will you be back on Monday?”. To which I may have replied, “I’m sorry? Did we just have the same day? Did you not see what just happened in there?”

I’m going to go eat my feelings and watch Dateline now. Because… I can’t even.

But enough about me… how was your day?

Gif Source:


There is no excuse for me.

It happened.

The thing I used to mock other women for.

The thing I used to roll my eyes at and snicker about.

The thing I thought was the most absurd and ludicrous thing I had ever heard of.

It happened today.

I actually felt my ovaries ping.


Am I already at THAT phase of my life? Is my situation THAT hopeless that I’m having physical reactions to adorable children? Am I THAT aware of my single status and the ticking time bomb that is my child-bearing years that my ovaries are starting to ping?!

It’s okay, kid. That was my reaction too.

There I was, minding my own business, when the 2nd graders came bounding up the stairs from recess. There was Anthony*, with his big grin, his freckled face, and his red hair, looking disturbingly like the child that would have resulted from me marrying the one that got away. There he was with his second-grade-sized frame, trying to take the steps 3 at a time and failing miserably. There he was, falling back down the stairs, desperately clinging to the railing to upright himself again. There he was, looking around sheepishly to see if anyone had seen his ridiculous attempt at being cool. He caught me laughing at him. He grinned. And I had a flashback to advanced calculus when the one that got away had tried to jump a desk, only to somehow end up sliding under it. He looked around sheepishly to see if anyone had seen his ridiculous attempt at being cool… and I had. He caught me laughing at him. He grinned. I’m not even kidding. It was. The exact. Same. Look.


Oh. My. Gawd.

It’s bad enough that my ovaries actually pinged. It’s another thing entirely that I’m suddenly recognizing children as the “Could Have Beens” resulting from a relationship with the One that Got Away.

Oh. My. Gawd.

I am that pathetic. I’m worse than pathetic. I’m pitiful. I’m… pathetiful.

This is me. This is also your reaction to me. It’s alright. I deserve it.

There is literally no excuse for me.

I think I’m going to take up drinking…

Gif Sources:,

*Not his real name. Duh.