It's time to tell anyone who doesn't encounter me in person some things that folks who surround me already know.
Here goes...
I need 8 hours of sleep a night and regular doses of food. If I don't have those things I am, as I often say, a crankcase. However, sometimes I do forget to eat, but that really only happens on school days. I can't believe how hard my brain has to work to keep things straight, and food sometimes gets obliterated by thoughts of math, social studies, RtI, guided reading, copying...
I have a vocal disability. Seriously, I have a photo (oh and getting that snapshot was a lovely procedure) to prove it. Of course, if you ever sat near me in church you'd hear it; be thankful we attend different houses of worship. I teach with a mic. When kids tell their parents I "yelled" at them, it's a lie.
Sometimes I border on agoraphobic*. If I didn't have to leave my house, I fear I'd stay here always. I am a severe homebody. I would much rather have a party than go to one. And, yes, we have a few parties each year.
I hate grocery shopping. The list of reasons why is much too long to share here.
When I was six weeks old, I almost died from starvation. A physician realized I had a muscle that was pushing all my formula back out--I was a projectile vomitter. My dad used to say he'd measure how far I spewed (12' was my personal best). ANYWAY, I have a six inch vertical scar on my midsection. Except for those six weeks of early life, I've always had it. When I see models in swimsuits, I stare at their smooth tummies (not their abs) and wonder, "What's that like?"
(BTW, I know the name for that disorder, but I have never been able to spell it...Google just helped me!)
I am a geek for book orders. I pour through them. Remember book orders? I will spend money on books for my classroom, but I mostly use the library for myself. I don't covet books, I borrow them.
People think my personality is that of an otter, but I have to push myself to be fun. I have to summon up courage almost every time I speak. Listen when I talk, my voice shakes.
Reading aloud to children is my favorite thing to do. I've been told I'm good at it, but I think it's only because I pick good books to share.
I'm ready to be a gramma. My son is not ready to be a dad, so I wait patiently.
I met my husband via Match.com, and in his profile he wrote he didn't like sarcasm. I replied to his first contact nonetheless. I have spent six years now working to not use sarcasm with him. He doesn't get my sense of humor much of the time, but there are so many other things I like about him and him about me that I can let that one go. He is precious.
Said spouse wants to go skydiving. At first I told him that was something I'd never do. Now I find myself thinking about it...in a good way--or is it a bad way? I'm going to try zip lining. Then hot air ballooning. Then...maybe...
I love telling people how old I am. Almost 52!
I can't keep any kind of candy in the house because if there's candy in the house it immediately gets stored in my tummy. There's no, "I'll just have one," and sticking with it. I inhale chocolate, Red Vines, Skittles...
My eye is a critical one. It's turned mostly on myself, but I turn it to others too often, too. I hate this about me.
I am an Evangelical Christian. I am a liberal Democrat. I'm not a fan of either label.
I love Jesus, but not as much as He loves me. I find value in that, but I really cannot fathom its bigness. Yet.
*I am not making light of this, I do not suffer from panic attacks. This condition is the best way I could sum up my sometimes aversion to leaving my home.
