Life
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Just moi, staring at the floor.

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Remember in French class at school, when the teacher wanted answers to questions you didn’t know the answer to, certainly not in French? That was me, lots of staring at the floor trying to not make eye contact and worse, get asked a question.  The dreaded request in a foreign tongue, the even more dreaded and expected reply, preferably using the correct words in the correct tense in the correct order. Don’t pick me, don’t pick me, don’t pick me.

So, why now, am I in the same situation, brought upon by myself, voluntarily, signed up, by myself, of my own accord? Ok, not in French, but sometimes I wonder if I might get on better if it were.

As a relative newcomer to the US school system, my kids are working through Grade school and Middle school and we have High school coming in a few years. I find myself confused some of the time.

To start with, I went to Infant school, Primary school then Comprehensive school,  in England.  We  went to school for the allotted years and then left to go to the ‘bigger’ school. No graduating, no names for the year, just first year, second year and so on. Fairly straightforward.

I still have no idea what a Sophmore is, I just know I don’t own one yet, that, or I missed it along with many other finer points of school life here. Freshman? Not sure what one of those is either.

So, there I am all signed up for stuff in the foreign land of the Middle School and everyone around me knows what they are doing, or else they are doing a fine job at pretending. Now I thought I was pretty good at putting on the airs and graces of a person who knows her crap, but alas, not as a Middle school volunteer. There it is again – ‘volunteer’ – I signed up! No staring at the floor to avoid eye contact, actual putting my name down to do stuff.  In hindsight, the floor staring would have been a good way to go.  There is lots of discussion of holiday celebrations and student birthdays and the finer points of how to celebrate them as a parent volunteer, unless you are a clueless volunteer that is.  Is it too late to avoid eye contact?  ‘Fraid so.

I am sure you have been there, that ‘rabbit in headlights’ feeling, lots to do, but no idea of where to start. Can someone please turn the darn headlights off, my eyes hurt.

Now I shall go and take my photo of the day – ‘fruit’ and then I am making chocolate chip cookies.

There, that is a start. I will put on my bunny sunglasses and bounce out of the way of the glaring headlights…

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This entry was posted in: Life

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I live in St Louis, MO, but I am originally from Lincoln, Great Britain. My family and I have lived in the Mid West for over 10 years now. My blog is www.catseatdogs.com where I blog and chat about all kinds of creative stuff.

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