Life was good back in early August of 2007. But it got better when I landed my first teaching job in late August. As like many teachers it happened days before new teacher orientation. It left very little time for me to organize myself and lots of time to freak out.
Driving to BMS for Day 1 of new teacher orientation was frightening. Would I know anyone? Would I like the people I did meet? Is teaching for me? How do I even meet new friends in this environment?
Walking in to BMS was no better. All the same thoughts swarmed my head. “Hey! I’m Erin! Are you new too?” a girl walking beside me asked tentatively.
“Um, yeah I am. Are you?” I asked back equally as nervous.
Turns out we were heading to the same orientation and even better…ultimately the same school.
Fast forward to year 13 and Erin and I are still great friends. Constantly together and frequently being mixed up as the other. In fact, recently, a first grader said to us as we walked into the cafeteria “Hi, Ms. Wetmore’s,” as if we were the same person/teacher. Guess it wasn’t so hard after all to find a friend.
“I’m going to teach you a new activity to play during morning meeting today,” I announced.
“What is it?” they said before I could get any more words out?
After discussing what metamorphosis meant I told them the rules…
- 1 person is sent in the hallway for 10 seconds
- That person can change 1 (and only 1) thing about themselves
- The class guess what the person from the hallway changed
“Got it?” I ask!
“Let’s play!” they shout!
The first student comes back in with only one shoe.
The second student comes back with their pants tucked into their sock.
“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,” we count.
“This was a bad idea,” comes a soft voice from the hallway (the girl that had been sent out to morph).
I tell the class to count again as I rush into the hall where I find K standing topless!
“Bad idea!” she says again louder this time. “My plan was to take my undershirt off but then all my shirts got stuck together.”
Trying very hard not to laugh and helping at the same time I say, “No worries, but let’s not try that one again.”
We finish executing her plan just as the class gets to 10 and enter the classroom.
I’m a traveler. I’m a bargain hunter. I’m always on the lookout for my next adventure.
For months I’ve been watching a flight to Florida. Hopper turned into my new best friend. A quick 3 day weekend getaway was all I wanted. For months the flight has been $300+. Should I book it and just enjoy? Is it worth it? Decisions, decisions!
I finally decided to bite the bullet. I was going to Florida, even if it was $300. BUT… I got distracted and didn’t buy my ticket Friday night.
Saturday morning laying in bed I received a notification from Hopper. I opened it up! My flight was now 50% off! Hurry up! Before you miss out on this deal it said.
I jumped out of bed faster than I have in years, especially on a Saturday morning.
I grabbed my credit card and booked it fast!
My next adventure awaits me!
It was Friday afternoon. It had been a tough 2nd week of school as we climbed the stairs to go to our buddies classroom to end the school day. “Why are all those shoes in the hallway?” someone shouted as we turned the corner.
“Pick a shoe and then go find your buddy,” I said smiling.
“Cool!” many 1st graders said while racing to pick a shoe and go meet their 4th grade buddy.
The 4th grade classroom was full of laughter as the 1st graders looked around for the matching shoe. The laughter and chatter continued as the new buddies completed the Same, Same but Different activity.
As we left the room I felt a tug on my arm.
When I looked down Kenzie was staring up at me beaming. Her eyes were batting. “Ms. Wetmore! Guess what?! I picked a shoe. And the shoe just happened to belong to the… cutest. boy. EVER!” she exclaimed.
“Aren’t you lucky,” I got out without laughing at the cuteness. Aren’t I lucky to be surrounded by this cuteness.
Sunday of Labor Day weekend is for the beach, family, a cheesy parade down the street, saying goodbyes to summer and some friends from a far, and of course pizza fritte.
My grandfather made his own “maker” (with my uncle’s help probably) from an old gas grill. It’s been around for years! For as long as I can remember. It has become a tradition of Labor Day weekend that everyone anticipates.
Yesterday was no different. My uncle Doug announced that pizza fritte would be ready at 4pm. This would fit perfectly with happy hour and not mess up our appetites for our pasta dinner. Doug poured the oil into the basin at 3:15 to warm up, gathered his other materials (towels, dough, pizza cutter, powdered sugar) and waited.
We all waited really.
“Ok…here we go!” Doug said walking over to the machine. But the oil wasn’t hot. My uncle and cousins tried to fix it but had no luck. You could feel the disappointed on the beach. You could see the disappointed from Doug too. He waits all year for this time and was letting many others down.
Then someone realized the problem…there was a basin inside another basin. It wasn’t heating up because the heat source was too far away from the basin with the heat. To fix this problem, the oil had to cool to then be transferred.
So we waited again.
By 5pm, with all eyes on him, Doug put the first piece of dough in the basin. It fried right up. We were in business!
My family (and beach neighbors) smelt it fast and formed an eager line. Doug put on his apron and huge smile. It was his time to shine. Labor Day was saved!
My brother got married this past weekend (more blog posts probably to come) but below is the speech my sister and I coauthored for the occasion…
Hey everyone! Thank you for coming to celebrate Brett and Amanda’s last night of being single. If you didn’t already know, we’re Brett’s sisters, Elena and Tori. Unlike Brett, mom’s favorite, we are the more talkative ones so it’s only fitting that we are going to say a little something tonight.
Brett has always been a go with the flow kind of guy. When we were little he’d happily put on tap shoes with me and dance around the kitchen or play army men with his cousin Tucker for hours on end. But when Tori was born on his 4th birthday, he was not a happy camper! Despite my mother being more preoccupied with celebrating his birthday than delivering a baby, he didn’t quite appreciate his ice cream cup with a candle and presents in the hospital. But little did he know how close we’d all become.
Growing up, Brett supported us in all of our endeavors. Swim meets, dance recitals, softball games, you name it. And not once (to our faces that is) did he complain. His “man of few words” demeanor has come in handy throughout the years. For example, sophomore year of high school, I experienced my first heartbreak. A few days later, I received a Facebook message from Brett. No message, only a link to the All American Rejects song, “Gives You Hell”. For those of you who don’t know the song, it is about a boy who just got broken up with. In the song he sings, “when you see my face I hope it gives you hell.” Brett has such a way with words.
Bretts love for music has since evolved (just wait until you hear the band tomorrow night) but his loyal yet quiet support for all his friends and family continues to grow.
So Amanda, when you come home after a crazy day at work to your quiet husband… know that he is in fact listening and supporting you. Just listen to the music he plays you, drink the wine he pours you, or soak in the bath he draws you. You are one lucky lady! We wish you both many happy years together. We cannot wait for you to join our family.
So let’s raise our glasses for the happy couple! Congrats! We love you!