It is the end of my summer vacation. As I type, I'm torn between the laptop and the bedroom, where I could be spending my last peaceful afternoon reading my book and then nodding off to sleep for an hour nap, after which I'd mosey on into the kitchen for a snack, click on the tv to see what's on Oprah or HGTV. I often find myself feeling guilty about having so much time off and then complaining that it's almost over. It's a little like being a poor little rich girl. Everyone has problems, I suppose.
I'm contracted to work 183 days a year. That's one day more than half the year. I have all weekends, holidays, Thanksgiving "Recess," Winter "Break," Spring Break, and summer off. All in all, a total of 182 days a year. I don't think I can describe in words how wonderful it is to have this time. The last day of school, May 27th, seems like it was just last week and a year ago, but it was also a vision of this expanse of time spread out in front of me as beautiful and as vast as the Caribbean Sea. I said good-bye to the "babies" I greeted back in August who seem so much older and independent now... who I helped teach to read, write, spell, add & subtract. I also (hopefully) taught them to be creative, to take risks, that making mistakes is a good thing, and how to deal with bullies and to not become a bully. I hope they remember. I hope they know I poured my heart and soul into them.
Every year when it's time to start all over again with a new batch of "babies" I have mixed emotions. I simultaneously can't wait to get back but want time to have a life. I want to get started, set up the room with new supplies, clean desks, and a new arrangement of furniture. Inside I promise myself that this year I won't let piles of paper grow on that shelf nor will I let the dust bunnies take over. I am going to be organized! I am going to be the best teacher EVER...I will take time to listen to his problem, I will know exactly how to handle it, I will not get mad, frustrated, irritated or annoyed. This year, I will hear my alarm clock go off at 5:15 am and I will wake up with a smile on my face and shout, "I'm Up!," pop out of bed, and optimistically face a new day. I'll hop in my car in my very cute and well-put-together outfit and zip through my commute like it was only 5 minutes, and arrive at my classroom door refreshed and ready for the day and greet my students exactly like Oprah greets her studio audience. I have lofty goals and I set the bar high. But like the magic eyeball I keep in my glove box (think Magic 8 ball, but it's an eye ball) that I found in my desk a few years ago, which I'd confiscated from some kid, would say, "Yeah, right."
I wish I had it in me to be this person. I do, just not all the time. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE MY JOB. I thoroughly enjoy first graders (they still say funny stuff like Kindergartners, but they're not as inexperienced as Kindergartners and, for the most part, know you should go to the bathroom in a toilet). There is something to laugh about every single day. I often find myself saying things like, "Hold your balls!" which is very funny after you've shouted it down the hallway at the top of your lungs without thinking of what you sound like but in an instant realizing what you sound like. My colleagues and I are good friends and I'm looking forward to seeing them again and hearing about their summer adventures. But most of all I'm looking forward to meeting the little guys and gals I'll be hanging out with all year.
What I dread is the alarm clock, the scheduling of every single minute once that bell rings at 8:45. I am a slave to the clock, even after school. There is never enough time to do everything: stretch, greet, play, draw, spell, paint, read, count, go to recess, go to the bathroom, eat a snack, teach some more, discipline, be on yard duty, oh $hit, I forgot to run copies, inhale lunch because there's work to do!, go to the line, listen, talk, walk, sit quietly, make-the-children-be-still-and-listen-to-a-story, draw some more, cut, glue, clean up, recess, bathroom, gulp water, sing, dance, stretch, cubbies, chairs up, clean the floor, bell, staff meeting, team meeting, site council meeting, patch meeting, or maybe I could just....breathe. But no. My brain immediately goes to what I have to get ready for the next day. No matter what was accomplished on any given day, I feel behind and I know I will never be caught up. There is always, always something that needs doing.
People ask, "What are you going to do with yourself with all that time off? Won't you get bored?"
I asked my Magic Eyeball this question, "Will I get bored this summer?" Know what it said?
"Yeah right."
I'm contracted to work 183 days a year. That's one day more than half the year. I have all weekends, holidays, Thanksgiving "Recess," Winter "Break," Spring Break, and summer off. All in all, a total of 182 days a year. I don't think I can describe in words how wonderful it is to have this time. The last day of school, May 27th, seems like it was just last week and a year ago, but it was also a vision of this expanse of time spread out in front of me as beautiful and as vast as the Caribbean Sea. I said good-bye to the "babies" I greeted back in August who seem so much older and independent now... who I helped teach to read, write, spell, add & subtract. I also (hopefully) taught them to be creative, to take risks, that making mistakes is a good thing, and how to deal with bullies and to not become a bully. I hope they remember. I hope they know I poured my heart and soul into them.
Every year when it's time to start all over again with a new batch of "babies" I have mixed emotions. I simultaneously can't wait to get back but want time to have a life. I want to get started, set up the room with new supplies, clean desks, and a new arrangement of furniture. Inside I promise myself that this year I won't let piles of paper grow on that shelf nor will I let the dust bunnies take over. I am going to be organized! I am going to be the best teacher EVER...I will take time to listen to his problem, I will know exactly how to handle it, I will not get mad, frustrated, irritated or annoyed. This year, I will hear my alarm clock go off at 5:15 am and I will wake up with a smile on my face and shout, "I'm Up!," pop out of bed, and optimistically face a new day. I'll hop in my car in my very cute and well-put-together outfit and zip through my commute like it was only 5 minutes, and arrive at my classroom door refreshed and ready for the day and greet my students exactly like Oprah greets her studio audience. I have lofty goals and I set the bar high. But like the magic eyeball I keep in my glove box (think Magic 8 ball, but it's an eye ball) that I found in my desk a few years ago, which I'd confiscated from some kid, would say, "Yeah, right."
I wish I had it in me to be this person. I do, just not all the time. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE MY JOB. I thoroughly enjoy first graders (they still say funny stuff like Kindergartners, but they're not as inexperienced as Kindergartners and, for the most part, know you should go to the bathroom in a toilet). There is something to laugh about every single day. I often find myself saying things like, "Hold your balls!" which is very funny after you've shouted it down the hallway at the top of your lungs without thinking of what you sound like but in an instant realizing what you sound like. My colleagues and I are good friends and I'm looking forward to seeing them again and hearing about their summer adventures. But most of all I'm looking forward to meeting the little guys and gals I'll be hanging out with all year.
What I dread is the alarm clock, the scheduling of every single minute once that bell rings at 8:45. I am a slave to the clock, even after school. There is never enough time to do everything: stretch, greet, play, draw, spell, paint, read, count, go to recess, go to the bathroom, eat a snack, teach some more, discipline, be on yard duty, oh $hit, I forgot to run copies, inhale lunch because there's work to do!, go to the line, listen, talk, walk, sit quietly, make-the-children-be-still-and-listen-to-a-story, draw some more, cut, glue, clean up, recess, bathroom, gulp water, sing, dance, stretch, cubbies, chairs up, clean the floor, bell, staff meeting, team meeting, site council meeting, patch meeting, or maybe I could just....breathe. But no. My brain immediately goes to what I have to get ready for the next day. No matter what was accomplished on any given day, I feel behind and I know I will never be caught up. There is always, always something that needs doing.
People ask, "What are you going to do with yourself with all that time off? Won't you get bored?"
I asked my Magic Eyeball this question, "Will I get bored this summer?" Know what it said?
"Yeah right."
Only another teacher could understand :) See you Wednesday!
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