The Exercise Channel.

So I'm 25 weeks pregnant with our second baby.

Yay!

In the three years it's been since I was last pregnant, apparently the doctors at my practice have adopted a new, rigid, horrific weight-gain policy for us all during this time of our lives. My family and I are quite healthy; we exercise every day, play outside, and eat all the fruits and veggies we're supposed to. 

Anyway, the fact that they harp on me about being careful about my weight gain during my pregnancy doesn't make me a happy girl since it's something I'm always careful with.

I asked our school nurse, who is a saint and has many children of her own, to please check my blood pressure...she knows I get all excited at the doctor's office and it gets them all worked up. If she checks it, it's usually fine. 

Anyway, I was in her office Tuesday, complaining about how they're not going to believe my weight gain is water retention, blah, blah, blah, when a little first grader walks in. The rest is history.

Me: Pam, I just know they're not going to love my weight gain. I seriously have no idea how to fix it.

Stinkin' first grader: You know, you could just turn on the exercise channel on your TV once in awhile.

It's a good thing he was sitting across the room from this pregnant girl.

Venison.

I have this kid in my class that looks like he fell out of the movie Goonies.

Seriously.

He is, unintentionally and hysterically, hilarious. His biggest flaw is also his biggest strength: he is so very easygoing he's almost lazy. And, as I mentioned, it is absolutely hysterical.

Not a single day goes by when I say, "Bodie, GET TO WORK NOW...PLEASE!" I tell him over and over and over...typically by the third time he starts moving in the general direction of his work. Many times he is the very last child to still be sitting on the rug after everyone else is knee-deep in their work around the room, and he'll say to me, "Okay, I'll work, but Mrs. Overman? I have to tell you something."

This happens nearly every single day. No kidding. He then proceeds to tell me something like, "Trish isn't working" or something similar to what he is also not doing.

So today, this whole shindig happened again...same bat time, same bat channel. "Bodie, get to work," I said. "Okay," he agreed. "But Mrs. Overman? I have to tell you something."

*sigh* "All right, Bodie. What do I need to know now?"

"Well, Mrs. Overman...I don't know if you noticed this, but it smells like deer meat in here."

Oh sweet heavens.

Oh.My.Word.

We had a Walk-A-Thon today. You know the kind--the kids raised money for new playground equipment by getting pledges, then we all walked and walked and walked and walked some more.

A good time was had by all.

We came in and waited with baited breath to hear the winners of the fundraising contest.

All of a sudden, one little guy goes,

"Umm, Mrs. Overman? So when are we going to do the Walk-A-Thon?"

Oh, for pete's sake.

One of my girls smacked me on the rear end today.

The end.

Lakes and Alligators.

I have a new little kiddo from Florida. I asked her today what she liked about Indiana, and she said, "Well, I've never seen snow...and did you know I have my own lake here? It's so fun. I can swim in it every day. And I really like how they cleaned out all the alligators so we can swim."

Thanks for the reminder.

Picture meet-your-teacher night.

Or in the case of this little girl, meet-your-sister's-teacher night.

Here's how it went:

Little girl: Oh, Mrs. Overman! Me and you have the same kind of arms!
Me: Oh really? (thinking, I know EXACTLY where this is going)...you mean hairy?
Little girl: Yeah!

Yes, as you can imagine, her parents were mortified. Little did they know this was not the first time someone under four feet tall had told me I have hairy arms.

*sigh*

Oh, the last day of school.

Here's what I heard today:

"Oh, Mrs. Overman, can't you just tape me to the wall or something? I really just don't want to leave."