One of the weirdest things about middle school is how big and how little the kids are at the very same time.

It is the strangest time in a person's life, maybe. I have a student-- Justin-- who does absolutely nothing in my class but sneer at me. He is a total "tough guy" who can't even be bothered to misbehave. He just glares and huffs and stares at the ceiling in a silent, seething rage while I go on and on about main idea and predicting outcomes. When I call on him to answer a question, he will pretend that he hasn't heard me. When I push, he gives me the evil eye until I move on. So I called a meeting with his mom.

When I got to the conference room, I was first surprised that his mom was an attractive, young professional woman seemingly in her mid-thirties. She was very unassuming looking and greeted me pleasantly. I was surprised by this because many of my students parents are as threatening as their children. When I called a house last weekend, the mom of one of my students said, "What the @!%* are you calling my house on a Sunday for?"

I was secondly surprised by the state young Justin was in. His little brow was furrowed and there were huge crocodile tears running down his pink cheeks. He looked about five years younger than he had moments ago in my classroom. As mom and I discussed his bad behavior, his quiet tears turned first to constant sniffs and then to loud hiccupping sobs. His mom didn't yell or anything-- she just kept saying, "Justin? What do you have to say for yourself? Hmm?" And he just kept crying.

Later in the day, I saw him strutting around the hall. He was back to his suave tough guy routine, no trace of his baby tears on his face. We briefly made eye contact and I think we are both a little awkward around each other now. I like to be reminded that my kids are really quite little, still. Even if they are having sex and smoking pot.  ¶ 11:30 AM

  I've been meaning to write. It is funny, though, how a whole string of days can pass by without anything of any real interest happening.

My kids are all pretty functional. I am not going to complain about that-- it would be evil to. However, I will say that my kids last year were more interesting. More stories. It is entertaining to read about desks being thrown and the mysterious presence of beans after a substitute. But I don't think that you want to hear about how annoying it is to have classes full of kids who constantly giggle.

Yep. Giggle. They just giggle. That is my major problem right now. Behavior isn't great, I mean I still have to sit on them pretty heavy to get them to perform. But these kids don't do anything violent or weird. They just do dumb stuff.

I am finding that I have a very low tolerance for behaviors that are bad and boring. Much more tolerance for the bizarre. I never thought I would miss children who suddenly screamed for no reason, seeming somewhat sheepish and startled at themselves for doing it. I certainly never thought I would miss Darryll bleating out "WHAAAT" randomly in the middle of a lesson. God help me for missing Ikea falling out of her chair at least four times a period, explaining "I don't WANT to fall, Ms. R." and calmly replacing herself in her seat. But I kind of do.

I prefer it to Joy's incessant giggling and quiet snorting. I prefer it to Lamont's rapid blinking at me from the front row, trying to freak me out. These little behaviors are just slightly annoying.

But on Saturday I will get my couch. Awesome. I will have a house-warming party soon and you should come.  ¶ 11:57 AM