Compliment

"Who can tell me the definition of 'compliment'? It's on the board in front of you."

A raised hand.

"A positive remark about someone or something."

"Awesome. Who can tell me about the best compliment they've ever gotten?"

More raised hands.

"Someone said I was beautiful."

"They said I was a great basketball player."

"Let me tell you guys what happened to me recently. Someone I work with said that I was a good teacher. Do you know what that did? It changed my entire day. If one compliment can change an entire day, can you imagine what complimenting someone every day could do? It could change a life.

I want you to think of one person who you can compliment today--somebody you wouldn't normally talk to."

Flashback to last night, when I sat on my bed, crying, clenching my fists and feeling defeated.

I can't do anything right.

I keep praying and it's not getting easier.

I wish they would just say nice things to each other.

"Alright, guys. Before we go outside, I'm curious. Who got the chance to compliment somebody?"

Several raised hands.

Wars aren't won in a day, but this morning I had a small victory.

What is my life.

We'll begin this post with a general statement:

Christmas Break was awesome.

I don't remember much of what happened, but I do know that I slept a lot, visited Lisa, and met my new soulmate(s):

I also missed my kids the. entire. time. Why? 

Because I have a problem.

I love my job.

At the same time, though, I hate my job.

The dichotomy is something understood by all teachers--the reason being that teachers have more than one job. 

Teachers, yes, but also managers, secretaries, subordinates, janitors, moms, police officers, curriculum writers, and saints.

At the same time, we are a bunch of multitasking semi-perfectionists who can't do everything put on our plates. Sometimes this makes us a herd of grumps.

This year, in particular, is not easy for Ms. Love. My journal entries have started with sentences like,

"Tornado day--that's what this was."

"What is my life."

"I LIVED."

"Yesterday's big event was a bug in the class library."

But I'm starting to pull an Anne Voskamp by looking for small things throughout the day to be thankful for and focus on. If I do that, it's much easier to see why I love my job even though I feel beaten down most of the time. 

A few things that bring me joy:

Being called Mom

Having my own (messy and smelly but wonderfully my own) classroom

Hugs

Putting 100s in the gradebook

Being greeted by kids when I come through the school door at 7:00

Kid jokes

Raised hands

The occasional "Yes ma'am"

Using compliments to breathe life into affection-starved children

Notes

Quality discussion time

Hearing kids use uplifting phrases/words with each other that I have used with them

Organized cubbies

Coworkers who laugh

Two or three of these throughout the day can make an astonishing dent in my frustrations.

Obviously there are parts of the job I will never enjoy--the extras, I like to call them. Making phone calls, sending emails, filling out tedious spreadsheets, managing paper (PAPER IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE), sorting through student conflicts, going to meetings, and trying to understand all the changing education rules being thrown at us by the government. But these are things I have to accept if I want to keep doing the part of the job that I love, which being with my kids--even when they are making me slap my hand to my forehead while muttering, "What is my life??"

Every once in a while, I get unexpected joy from the kids.

Like the time when I was given McDonalds toys as a Christmas present.

Or when a student said, "You make learning easy," and another said, "Thank you for listening."

And my favorite: when, at the end of a very frustrating day, a student stayed after the bell had rang to sing "Keep Holding On" by Avril Lavigne. Why? Because she knew it would make me laugh.

I love my job.