I never said my job wasn't entertaining...

Just got this call at work:

Him:  "Yeah, is Bridget Smith there?"

Me:  "I'm sorry.  There's no one here by that name."

Him:  "Is she not there today?"

Me:  "No.  I mean there is no one that works here by that name."

Him:  "Well, it's important that I speak to her."

Me:  "...."

Him:  "Do you know where I'd find her this time of day?"

Me: "Ok...I have no idea who Bridget Smith is.  She does not work here.  I've never heard of her."

Him:  "Well, hmmmm.  I really need to speak to her.  Should I try her at her home number?"

Me:  Okay.  This guy just doesn't get it... "Yes.  Definitely.  You should try her at her home number."

Him:  "Will do.  Go ahead."

Me:  "Go ahead?"

Him:  "I'm ready for that number..."

Me:  "Sir?  I don't have her home number.  I DON'T KNOW WHO BRIDGET SMITH IS."

Him:  "Well, do you have ANY clue how to get ahold of her?"

Me:  "NO.  NO, I DO NOT."

Him:  "Ok.  Thanks for your help."

Me:  "Any time."

Gifts come in interesting packages sometimes

Today, during chapel, a third grader got up and came over to me at the back of the gym.  This kid is a very quiet studious little guy.  He whispered to me that he thought he was sick and needed to call his mom.  So I whispered back, "What's wrong?"

Him:  "I think I might have the plague."

Ha ha.  I almost laughed.  It would have been much funnier, except this kid was dead serious.  And very worried about himself.  I found out later that the third grade has been studying the plague in history.

Me:  "Don't worry, buddy.  I'm positive you don't have the plague."

Him:  "How can you be sure?  I really don't feel good."

Me:  "Trust me.  There hasn't been a case of the plague in this country for a long long time."

Him:  "Ok, well then it's West Nile."

Me:  "The West Nile Virus?  No, really.  I don't think you have anything like that."

Him:  "But you can't be absolutely positive.  I feel dizzy and sick."

Me:  "Were you playing on the tire swing at recess maybe?"

Him:  "Yes, actually I was. I was spinning around.  And that's when I starting feeling sick."

Me:  "Ok.  Well I'm thinking that's why you're feeling dizzy.  Spinning around on a tire swing will do that."

Him:  Still not convinced  "But you really don't KNOW for sure.  There has to be some sort of test to make sure I don't have those diseases."

Me:  "Ok, tell you what.  I'm going to hold up some fingers and you tell me how many you see...."

Him:  "I see 4 fingers..."

Me:  "Ok!!!  There ya go.  You're right.  People with the plague or West Nile Virus would have said 5.  You're FINE, buddy!  Go back and sit down with your class.  You're gonna be just fine!"

Him:  "WHEW!  What a RELIEF!!"

 

Yeah, I probably shouldn't have lied to him.  But I soooo wanted to comfort him.  I wanted him to STOP worrying.  There are so many other things he needs to focus on.  Worrying about whether he has a disease or not is not one of those things.  (And also?  I could relate to this kid.  I am a worrier.  I may not worry whether I have a disease or whatever, but I tend to worry about stuff.  And this kid reminded myself of meeeee.)

Anyway.

Right there during chapel, I started thinking....I bet God does that.  I bet He sits up in heaven and watches us worry about things and I bet it seems ridiculous to Him, just like this kid worrying about the plague seemed ridiculous to me.  I bet God wants to go - "Hey!  Will you STOP?  I am in control.  You have so many other things you need to be doing.  So many things I have planned for you.  You have things I want you to focus on right now.  And worrying about things you have NO control over is NOT one of them!" 

So yeah.  This little West Nile plague kid gave me a gift this morning.  And since I have some struggles I'm dealing with right now, it was given just at the right time. 

Excuse me while I VOMIT all over my desk.

Just now a kindergartner came running in from recess into my office. She had tears streaming down her face.

Her: "Waaaaaaah! I have DOG POOP all over my hands."
Me: Oh great. THIS is all I need today...."Ummm, ok. Well you'll need to go to the bathroom and wash up really really well with soap and water."
Her: "Ok. But don't you want to know how I KNOW it's dog poop?"
Me: Oooooh man...not really, no. No I REALLY don't, kid. "Because you can smell it?" Gross, gross, gross...
Her: "NOPE!!!! Guess again!!"
Me: Oh, dear God. I'm soooo not in the mood. For this I went to college? "Ok. PLEEEASE tell me you didn't TASTE it."
Her: "NOPE!"
Me: Oh, whew! RELIEF! Thank you LORD...
Her: "I didn't have to taste it..I just knew after I LICKED it!!!!"

Helping those who need AND want it!

Ok, so we all know that teachers don't make much money. And at private schools (at least the private school where I work) they make JACK SQUAT. (FYI - that's my new favorite saying...JACK SQUAT. I say it as often as I can.)

ANYway, most teachers at my school are married, and so even though they don't make much, they're able to combine it with their spouse's income, and be ok. But there are a few single teachers here, and for them, it's very tough to make rent and all the rest of their bills. With rising gas prices and food bills, it's nearly impossible.

There's one single teacher in particular that really struggles. She's young - in her early 20's, and just got her first apartment. She resorts to eating top ramen and mac & cheese because she just can't afford anything else. She owns one dress, and she wears it every Friday for chapel. She doesn't participate with the other teachers when they chip in for take-out because she literally does not have the money. Sometimes she has to borrow money for gas because she simply doesn't have the money to fill up her tank to get home from work. But I never hear her complaining! She seems to be happy working here because she is sure she is making a difference in the lives of the children here. And I know she is.

Ok, so in all my wisdom, I decided last week that I would help this teacher. So, I put a grocery store gift card in her mailbox here at school. I did this because I wanted to help! I was sure she would be blessed by this gift of mine. I didn't put my name...I wanted to remain anonymous. (Well, it's not really anonymous now that I'm telling the entire Internet, but I'm telling you not to toot my own horn, but because I'm about to make a point. Really I am.) Anyway, I wanted to help her buy some decent groceries for once. To take a break from top ramen and get something GOOD!

Alrighty. Well, my plan backfired. She came to me in the office yesterday and asked, "Do you know who put this gift card in my box?"

I said, "I'm sure it's someone who knew you've been struggling lately and wanted to help!"

And she said, "Well, please tell that person thank you, but no thanks. It makes me sad that I appear to be struggling. I'm really not. I appreciate that someone wanted to help me. That's really sweet. But I'm excited to be out on my own, and I want make my own way. I don't want to appear ungrateful. But there are a lot of people that don't even have a roof over their head or a job to go to every day. Please tell the person that gave me this gift card to please help them! Help someone who is truly struggling in this world. That would be make me happy."

Wow.

It's all in perspective, isn't it?!

Not everyone that we perceive as "struggling" wants help. I completely respect that! And from now on, I will try and figure out if the want is there before I give to someone who I think must need the help.

By the way, I took this teacher's advice! I used the money and made a loan to an entrepreneur on KIVA.

Let's Make Up a Day, Go Out and Buy Flowers and Call it a Holiday, Shall We?

Ok.  So yesterday was Secretary's Day.  Or I guess it's now called "Administrative Assistant's" Day or "Administrative Professional's" Day.  Yeah, whatever. 

Sigh.

I will admit it - I hate Secretary's Day.  I do.  Part of this hatred stems from the fact that this is yet another irritating, ridiculous, made-up "holiday" that Hallmark created.  Another reason this day bothers me?  Well, because I never thought I'd be a secretary, and sometimes I can't get my brain around that I AM a secretary.  (By the way, this in no way is meant to degrade secretaries or administrative assistants or WHATEVER.  I am one, remember?)  Anyhoo, I didn't go to college to become a secretary.  I didn't get a Microbiology degree to become a secretary.  When I was a little girl, I didn't sit and dream of becoming a secretary.  (I know - this sounds awful.  It sounds like I'm being condescending toward secretaries.  That's not really what I want to do.  Really.  I DO think I make a difference in the lives of children here.  Don't believe me?  Read this post from last month.  But I'm saying I don't really want a day to point out that yes, indeed, I am a secretary.)

Ok.

So, yesterday, no one even remembered it was Secretary's Day.  Thank you, God.  Well, no one EXCEPT one of the third grade classes.  The students in that class made me some cards.  They drew me pictures, and wrote me lovely things.  And, oh my!  Some made me laugh out loud and some even made me cry.  Here are some, word for word:

"You are cute like this cat I drew. I wanted to buy you a cat but really where would I get the money?  I'm a kid remember? And your a secretary. And a pretty good one. But a cat would NOT be. Becase they can't type or get out band-aides."

 

"Thank you for all you do for us and you are the best ever. You sit in the office all day.  Gees you do that a lot. Don't you need a break? Why don't you take one for once. Today would be good for that."

 

"Happy birthd  Happy Secretary Day. I hope you have a good day. I hope you have a good week.  Heck I hope you have a great life."

 
And my favorite...

"Thank you for being are secretary. It must take a lot of coordination.  Did you go to school for that?  What. you got up one day and said hello I want to be the secretary at the best school ever?  ___yes  ___no  Well that's great.  Well I think I want to be one. If my mom allowed it maybe I could. Do you hafe to buy your own ice packs and bandaides?  And your computer to?  What. you just go in the store and say i am a secretary and need a computer. Oh I don't have that kind of money.  I only get $3 for allowence.  You sure give out alot of ice packs. And hugs. Doesn't this ever get tiring?  Or what. You hugged me after i gotted my splinter taken out. Remember God and Jesus love you"

I may have to change my stance on Secretary's Day because these cards are the best, aren't they?! 

Truck Driver in the Making

I tell ya, working at an elementary school, I never have a shortage of entertainment.

Today, a first grader came to the office. He was being sent to the principal because he was in "big trouble." I need to preface this by saying this kid is very cute. He is very short for his age, is normally very sweet, and talks with a lisp.

Adorable.

So this kid shows up at my office with his eyes brimming with tears. He sat down, and when he did, his feet barely hung over the seat of the chair.

Him: "I'm in big twouble"

Me: "Why? What happened?"

Him: "I said a bad worwd."

Me: "You did? What did you say?" afraid to ask...

Him: "Cwap."

Me: "Crap?"

Him: "Yeah. Cwap."

Me: trying not to laugh "Well, you know what? We don't say that word at school"

Him: "Yeah. I know dat now."

Me: "Are you allowed to say that word at home?"

Him: "No. But my mom says it. A WOT."

Me: "Well, now you know that it's a bad word and we don't say it. So do I have your word that you won't say it ever again?"

Him: "Yeah. I won't."

Me: "Promise?"

Him: "Pwomise."

Me: "Ok, well because I know you'll never say it ever again, I'm going to give you grace. You don't have to see the principal."

Him: looking very relieved "Oh whew! Fanks!"

Me: "You're welcome. Ok, now go back to class. And remember what we talked about."

Him: "Oh I will." scooting off the chair...

Me: "Ok, good. See ya later."

Him: "DAMMIT! My shoe's untied!"

Blink...

Blink. Blink.

Ummm, yeah. My grace ran out. Cute or not, the kid went to the principal's office.

A Tale of 2 Boys...and of a Mother's Tears

First, a tale of two boys:

BOY #1: There is a 10-year old boy that just started at our school this week. His name is Mark, and he's in 4th grade. His story is very sad. He has lived in Texas all of his life. His mom got sick, was on life support for a bit, and then tragically, died last week leaving Mark an orphan. His half-sister (a grown woman) who'd he only met a handful of times, went down to Texas to bury her mother. She soon realized that her half-brother Mark had no one left in this world. So this sister, a single parent, took Mark back to this state to live with her and her 5-year old son. This 5-year old is a student here at our school, so she enrolled Mark here, as well.

Mark started school Monday, which also happened to be his 10th birthday. As you can imagine, he's a very sad boy. He's very quiet and shy. He doesn't interact with the other kids. He doesn't play at recess. He's a very heartbroken, defeated, overwhelmed little boy.

Boy #2: This is my boy, my 7-year old son, Cole. If you've read my blog before, you probably know that Cole is a goof-ball. Unlike my older two children, Cole is not a Rule Follower. (Remember the Butt Crack song? That's just a taste of Cole's antics.) Cole is the source of many a gray hair on my head (and lots more to come, I'm sure.) He tends to get in trouble at school. Not terrible trouble. He doesn't do malicious things. He just.....likes to entertain. He will risk getting in trouble for a few laughs. Not many people know that Cole also has a heart of gold. Under all that goofiness, he's very sweet.

Ok, so back to Boy #1, Mark. As you can imagine, we pray for Mark at home. A lot. I have a tender spot for him, and several times a day, I put my work at school on hold, and go and check on Mark. I usually find him alone and lost in his own thoughts. Considering everything he has been through just in the last couple of weeks, he's doing pretty well, but still, he's very very sad.

So yesterday, apparently, Cole wrote Mark a note and gave it to him at recess. (Keep in mind that Cole is a 2nd grader, and Mark, a 4th grader.) Mark was thrilled with the note and told his teacher about it. The teacher did not see the note & misunderstood why Mark was telling her about it. She thought he was upset, so wanting to protect Mark, she told Cole's teacher. Cole's teacher also incorrectly assumed that this must not be a good note, and she told the principal.

I found out about all of this when the story reached the principal. (Still, only a story. An incorrect story. With no note to back it up.) My heart broke in two. I was so sad and disappointed that the automatic assumption was that this note must be mean, without even seeing it, or talking to Mark or Cole. So, I tracked down this elusive note and read it for myself.

Now comes a Mother's tears.

Here is Cole's note, word for word:

Dear Mark,
Well I was just wondering if we can be frends because you are new here and it is your second day right? You don't seem like you have much frends so I want to be your new freind. Pretend it is yesterday so I can say Happy Birthday! You are speshal to me and did you know also to Jesus? I want to play with you at recess. Meet me on the playground and we'll play a fun game I know ok? I can't wait to start being your freind.

Your New Second Grade Freind,
Cole

Yes, I tell you, tears streamed down my face as I read this beautiful little note. What a wonderful way to reach out to this boy. If only people could see Cole the way that I do. If only they could see this generous act of kindness offered to a despairing boy that needed it so.

Today I heard that now Cole and Mark have started playing. And the recess teachers tell me that for the first time, Mark has started smiling. He is excited to play with his New Second Grade Friend.

Later, after composing myself, I told Cole how so very proud I am of him. I told him how special this note was to Mark, and what a wonderful thing he did to reach out and make a friend with this new boy.

Cole was confused. He didn't understand why I even brought it up. To him, this note was a no-brainer.

He said, "But Mom. I have Jesus in my heart. This is what you do when you have Jesus in your heart. You help people that are hurting."

And the tears began flowing again.

Just the Secretary

Not too long ago, I received the following little gem of a phone call at work:

Him: "Yeah, I'd like to speak to someone about the Science Fair."

Me: "Oh! You're speaking to the right person. How may I help you?"

Him: "Well....um... who are you?"

Me: I said my name when I answered the phone, but anyway...
"This is Diane. I coordinated the Science Fair this year. Is there something I can help you with?"

Him: "Sooooo. Ummmm.... Do you work there?"

Me: No. I'm some derelict that wandered in off the street. I heard a phone ringing and I answered it.
"Yes, I sure do. I'm the secretary here. Can I help you?" (For the 50th time?)

Him: "So let me get this straight. You're JUST the secretary down there, and they put YOU are in charge of the Science Fair??"

Me: cringing that he said 'JUST the secretary.'
"Yes, that's right."

Him: "Don't take this the wrong way, but why in the world wasn't a teacher put in charge of the Science Fair? Or someone at least with a science background?"

Me: Yeah, thanks, I'll try not to take that the wrong way.
"Well, you know, I do happen to have a 'science background'."
(completely irritated that I have to defend myself to this dude.)
"I have a degree in Microbiology and worked many years as a Medical Technologist."
OR maybe you'd rather have a teacher with a degree in Home Ec be in charge? Not that there's anything wrong with a Home Ec degree, you understand, but you want someone that doesn't know the Scientific Method from a hole in the ground running the thing? Not that an elementary Science Fair is rocket science. But still.

Him: "Oh...."

Me: How do you like dem apples?
"So, sir, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"

Him: "I just wanted to pass on that I thought the Science Fair was well organized this year."

Me: Oh gee - thanks.

Him: "And I was just curious...if you supposedly have all this science background, why are you there? Why are you just the secretary at my son's school?"

There's that 'just the secretary' nugget again.

Yeah. I'm not sure if this guy was trying hard to be JUST an idiot, or if it came naturally.

But I do get asked that a lot. Why am I the secretary at my kids' school? There are many answers to that question. Sometimes, to be honest, I don't have a CLUE what I'm doing here. Coincidentally, this clueless feeling usually occurs on the days I'm cleaning up puke or helping a kid who just peed all over the floor.

I used to think I was here because I got 1/2 off my kids' tuition by working here. (Don't get me wrong - that's huge! That's why I accepted the job. But that's not why I stay.) I'm here for a lot of reasons. I have a lot of stories I could tell that answers that question. But I'll just tell one today.

There's a little girl that goes to school here. When she started in September, she was very angry. She never smiled. She did not talk. And every single morning she was tardy. But I didn't mind, because as I wrote out her tardy slip, I smiled at her and told her I hoped that she would have a good day. She never smiled back and never said a word to me. In fact, she glared at me most mornings.

She gets in trouble. A lot. She's in the principal's office all the time. She struggles academically. And she was even moved back a grade. The other kids don't play with her because they say she's not nice. The teachers dog her because she misbehaves. All of this made her even angrier.

I don't know much about her home life, but I know her mom is a struggling single mom, and she tries hard.

So here it is March. I have spent six months smiling at this girl, winking at her in the halls, giving her quick words of encouragement, with nothing back. Zip. Nada.

That all changed this week!

This week, this little girl has started to soften! She smiles back! She winks back. And yesterday? Yesterday she paused in front of my window until I looked up, and then she smiled. She smiled first.

Maybe that doesn't sound like much to you. But I know that I am making a small difference in this little girl's life. I'm not sure why she's softening, I'm just glad she is. I'm thankful she's here in our school. And I'm thankful that I'm 'just the secretary' at this school.

That's why I'm here, Mr. Jerk on the phone. I'm here for the little girl that smiles at me now, and a million other little reasons. I could be in a lab someplace making a lot more than I do now. And, maybe I will do that again some day. But right now? I'm here.

I'm here because I believe God placed me here. I believe He wants me to do what I can to make a difference, as small as it is, in the lives of the children here.

Isn't that what it's all about?

(Oh yeah. And also? I get a month off in the summer & Christmas and Easter breaks off. Don't forget THAT.)

IQ Lacking

People that know me know that I work at a school. A Christian school. I'm the secretary. For the most part, I really enjoy interacting with the parents of our students. It's a lot of fun most of the time. Every once in a while, though, I'll have a conversation with a parent and I'm left wondering.... where the heck these people were when God passed out brain cells. This happened today.

*Warning - this paragraph is kind of gross. You've been warned. Ok, so there's a little kindergarten boy who, for the last 3 days, has pooped his pants. And I don't mean a simple pooping of the pants. Without getting too graphic let's just say that it's messy. Really really leaky and watery and messy. You get the idea, I'm sure. So the teacher (of course) sends the kid to me. Neato. Since we aren't supposed to handle this sort of body fluid (thank you, GOD) I call the parents, and make them come and get the kid. So today was day 3 of this. So again, I called the Mom:

Me: "Yeah, your kid pooped his pants again. Please come and get him." (Ok, no, don't worry - I didn't say like that. I was nicer.)
Her: "Oh no, really? Wow. I just can't figure out what's going on with him"
Me: "Well, maybe he's sick. You should take him to the doctor."
Her: "Yes, we did! We took him to the doctor and they ran a bunch of tests. So far, everything is normal."
Me: "Hmmmm...I wonder if he's having a reaction to something he is eating."
Her: "Well, that's what I was thinking. It makes me wonder about the prunes."
Me: "The prunes?"
Her: "Yes. Every morning when he wakes up lately, he just takes handfuls of prunes and eats them. I've been racking my brain and that is the only thing that has changed with his diet. I wonder if that's it."
Me: "......"

Wow. Really? Is it not common knowledge that when one eats copious amounts of prunes, one gets a dreadful case of the trots? I mean seriously. I'm pretty sure I've known this since ummmm...BIRTH. Am I wrong? So lady, NEXT time, give ME the $25 copay and forget the doctor visit. Because yeah, you can stop racking your brain. IT'S THE PRUNES. Duh.

In other news, I'm thinking about doing the Breast Cancer 3-day Walk.

60 miles, though. Sixty. I'm not worried about raising the $2200. I'm worried about being able to walk 20 miles a day for three days. Eeek. Whatya think?