I miss the bad kids.

Remember last year?

The horrible, terrible year?

The year of tearful Fridays and 60-hour weeks and anxiety so bad that my legs often locked up, making me look like a peg-legged sailor?

It was a rough year.

But over the past two weeks I've felt sharp pangs of loss because, gosh darnit, I miss the kids.

I don't know why it's hitting hard now; maybe because this time last year was filled with a lot of sentiment.

No, I DO NOT miss referrals, bullying reports, parent emails, and constant emotional triage...but if you offered to let me take each of those kids out for ice cream, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes. 

Why? Because with all of the crazy came a love and loyalty that you don't find in every class.

So I miss them.

I miss the kid who made me fresh-squeezed orange juice from his breakfast fruit cup and brought me chocolate milk from the cafeteria every day.

I miss the kid who really wanted to get me a mug for Christmas.

I miss the kid who hated teachers, but wanted to tell me mundane things about his life because he knew that I cared.

I miss the kid who danced with me and sang "Keep Holding On" after a horrid day.

I miss the kid who said he'd punch the principal if I ever got fired.

I miss the kid who threw down all of his football gear and leapt up the bleachers when he saw that I'd come to his game.

I miss the kid who wrote to me about her life in her weekly journal assignment, even though she wouldn't talk much in class.

I miss the kid who gave a very convincing argument in Social Studies that made half the class think that Hitler wasn't so bad.

I miss the kid who always fessed up about saying bad words.

I miss the kid who pretended to be a t-rex with me.

I miss the kids who stayed after school to help me cover the walls before T-CAP, and then uncovered the poster of Abraham Lincoln's face so that he could stare at everyone while they were testing (though, YES, I covered him back up before the test).
I miss the kid who wrote a story about Josh and me getting married during the time of the dinosaurs.

I miss the camaraderie that came with that bad class.

I miss the day we decided that our class name would be "Love's Lil' Gremlins".

I miss the behavior talks--particularly after a sub day ("We were terrible! We all deserve demerits!").

I miss telling the kids to have compassion and empathy, and then watching them have it (if only for a little while).

I miss the great discussions about how history wasn't fair.

I miss group hugs.

I miss their demented, Hot-Topic sort of humor and obsession with angsty teen bands.

I couldn't do that year again, but I am so very glad it happened, and that it was filled with enough love to miss.