Air Force One
Interesting thing today-as I was driving to the gym and playing taxi driver for the kids, I noticed what looked to be a presidential marine helicopter sitting on the ground out of the corner of my eye. It was parked in a schoolyard field. I then noticed news crews not too far away from the helicopter, so of course, I had to pull over to attempt to find out what was going on. I was told by an onlooking by-stander that the aircraft had been traveling with President Obama’s team on their way back home to Virginia after his visit to the Jersey shore. Supposedly, the helicopter hit a bird which resulted in their emergency landing. I read tonight on the news report that it wasn’t a presidential trip nor did they mention a bird strike-go figure. Regardless, my son enjoyed seeing the helicopter. I felt badly for the pilots, though. Stranded in a field wearing flight suits for hours during the heat of the day is no fun. I know because I’ve worn those same suits when I was a flight doc. They do not breathe!
Seeing the aircraft reminded me of the days when my husband worked as an Air Force One agent while I was in medical school. If you’ve ever seen the movie, “Air Force One” by National Geographic, you would have seen him. He is featured working with the pilot of Air Force One taking care of the plane while President Clinton was in office. I actually had the opportunity to tour the plane on the ground a couple of times, and it is beautiful. I presented a paper on presidential physicians when I was in medical school and was able to meet one of Clinton’s physicians on a trip. There are fun little presidential trinkets in my house such as Christmas cards sent from the White House and presidential M and M’s that you’d dare not eat now. I used to have high hopes of practicing medicine in some unique arena such as that. Little did I know these people called “children” would reroute my life!
In that vein, I must prep for what lies ahead whether it’s teaching on great pieces of literature or running a Fortune 500 company. I can still dream:)
Shhhhh…..Be very, very quiet
At the end of day I’m so tired of talking. I talk all day long explaining this and quizzing that and teaching this and covering that. I jump from subject to subject and grade level to grade level. I go from quizzing probabilities to teaching the times tables to teaching time and calendars to teaching on force and acceleration to teaching about Custer and Andrew Jackson and Kennedy and then teaching on reading with expression and genres and research papers and public speaking to teaching on verb tenses and pronouns and alliteration and limericks and prose and meter and Monet to then Manet and Impressionism to then teaching about water colors and foreshadowing and power point and HTML and coding and Venn diagrams and bar models and on and on and more talking. Oh, and I have to present all of this in an exciting way so as to keep my children engaged and interested in the topics. I sit very little. I travel in small circles in my house going from child to child and station to station. There is constant talking and debate all day long, so by the end of the day, I long, no, I need and crave complete and utter silence. Of course, that comes only after we’ve read our bedtime stories of Kipling’s “Just So Stories” and pieces from the “Children’s Story Bible” by Vos.
I was thrilled to make it to the gym for an hour of physical torture via weights. I thought to myself as I left class today that I must seem a bit unfriendly (assuming anyone actually notices me), because I pop in and out of class speaking to no one and rarely smiling. I get into my work-out mental zone appreciating the loud music and barking instructor. Serve it! The hour requires nothing of me except what I choose to give so it is a welcome escape from the constant, and I emphasize constant, demands at home. I had a gym instructor a few months ago ask me if I wanted a job teaching a class, and I had to restrain myself from laughing in her face because the last thing I want in my hour of escape is to talk some more!
Well, that’s enough whining from me who really has nothing to whine about. There are so many impoverished, mistreated, hungry, abused, depressed, and hurting people in the world that I should give myself a reality check right about now. I couldn’t hardly get through our Bible story tonight without crying. Reading the Word puts it all into perspective.
The recipe is called “Thunder Cake”. I told the kids if they were quiet, they could hear the thunder inside the cake.
Bad joke used in hopes of getting them to stop talking:)
Ivy League Homeschooling 