My mind is saying ouch in three different languages. The arms go in the air like if I raise them higher, I’ll weigh less. At that moment one of the kids looks up, sees the pain in my face and the strappy sandal in the air and screams to the other kids, “She got out the chankla” That is spanglish for she is going to whoop us old school style.
Mrs. B is walking around the room as she teaches and reads. The kids are engaged and high level conversations are taking place. Imaginary t.v. cameras are capturing the moments so audience across the United States can say “Wow I wish I was in that classroom!” Then it happens.
September was the best month. Actually August and October were too. That was when I officially felt 40. All of
Now we know from prior writings that my fat talks to me. Well it was not pleased with the sudden decrease in consumption of (of all things) bacon and fried chicken. Here I am trying to be more sophisticated and the country (as my dad likes to say, because he didn’t raise me ghetto) comes out. On Sundays people would talk about the great things happening in their lives. The wannabe holy Trish could only cry about the loss of a longtime love in her life…bacon.
Mile 2.5. The last song on the ipod was halfway throughand the old couple tried passing me. What? Oh no they didn’t I increased my pace. The legs were torn. Memories of long strides came to them and they wanted to run like in the old days. Then that stupid fat, like a bad boyfriend trying to stick around tried to ruin their mojo.
Today-there was a dovetail with my technology. My youtube, blog and social networking. Like the cords of a rope my
My youngest child has been, uhm shall we say, a challenge. The child is doing things I never imagined were
Mrs. B has been out of the writing routine for quite some time. Apparently getting a degree via online courses
