To My Future Valentine.

Dear Future Husband, Roommate, Co-habitating Cat Partner, or Anyone Who Loves Me Next Year,

In the silent hours of Winter Break and Icepocalypse 2015, I have had time to ruminate over last week's Valentine's Day. Was it acceptable? Yes. I received the standard chocolates and hugs. But it was missing something....

more.

So I thought I'd pen this list of anticipated gifts, which you, my future Caring Person, are responsible for someday accommodating. 

(These gifts are in no particular order.)

1. Eighteen of these, which might last me through a school year.

That's over 2500 pencils.

My children devoured 288 in January alone, despite my pencil-saving tactics.

There's also something incredibly alluring about fresh pencils.

2. A giant chocolate fountain. 

With Ghirardelli and somebody to clean it for me.

And maybe a straw.

3. Something to snuggle with when I'm tired of anything that can breathe or make noise on its own.

Like these.

Or these.

Or this.

4. A Sweet Talking Ken Doll.

For when I still don't want to be around anything that breathes, but would like to hear nice things said to me.

5. Richard Simmons. 

For snow or Icepocalypse days.

And times when I feel lonely, or just consumed an entire Ghirardelli chocolate fountain.

6. Snow powers.

7. Chinese fried green beans. 

Every day for a year.

Or you could just fly me to China every couple of months.

Your choice.

8. A castle.

Here is a list of websites where you could search for one:

http://www.castlesandmanorhouses.com/chateauxforsale.htm

http://www.businessinsider.com/10-awesome-castles-you-can-buy-right-now-2012-10

http://www.prestigeproperty.co.uk/CastlesForSale/Properties.asp

http://www.target.com/c/dollhouses-dolls-toys/-/N-5xt8v

We'd look good with a castle.

Uh.

9. This bed. Preferably after a long day.

10. Finally, a karaoke machine. 

So I can make money out on the streets during the summer.

Until then, these memes will hold me over: 

Happy Future Valentine's--to us!

The Best Valentine's Day

I want to tell you about the best Valentine's Day I ever had.

It was three years ago, during my first student teaching placement at a rural school near a place called "Big Woods". My mentor teacher had taken an extended leave and a long-term sub had just come in.

Her name was Mrs. Love.

I am not joking.

Anyway, on that Valentine's Day we had a two-hour delay and a dance party in the afternoon.

I was given candy by kids who I had been sure hated my guts. The children thought it was HILARIOUS that they had a Ms. Love and a Mrs. Love as their teachers in Valentines Day--who just HAPPENED to be wearing the same shirt (Seriously. It was an accident). I got to dance to Kidz Bop with a bunch of sugared-up ten-year-olds. And it was a breath of fresh air in the middle of what was a very, VERY hard seven weeks.

I'll explain the situation a little more. 

The fall before student teaching, all of the teaching candidates were given a form for requesting the types of placements we went into. Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I asked for rural and urban schools.

Rural I asked for, and rural I got. I was put in a fourth grade classroom with Ms. Bible, who everyone was saying would be a great mentor teacher, at a little school behind Lookout Mountain. The typical pre-service teacher, I was all jitters and butterflies about student teaching. Seven weeks in the same classroom? A whole TWO WEEKS of COMPLETE takeover? How on earth would I get kids to listen to ME?

Then Ms. Bible had to take a sudden extended leave because of personal circumstances.

During, you know, the first week of my placement.

COOL.

(It wasn't her fault, and we still communicated a lot, and she was still really great. I was just suddenly very independent.)

I'd be lying if I said I did a stellar job. I was completely exhausted all the time, my management wasn't a disaster--but wasn't great, either--the room was a mess, my lessons were too complicated, and I didn't know what I was doing a lot of the time. The kids came from impoverished homes and had some issues at school that I'd never dealt with before, and I spent a lot of time crying over them.

In the end, I had at least five weeks of complete takeover.

But, you know what? I had never loved a group of children like I loved those kids. The end of the placement was heartbreaking, and I went back to visit them twice before the year was over.

Sometimes, I still miss them.

My next placement was in an urban kindergarten class, but I spent a lot of it wishing I was back with my fourth graders.

Why?

Those children changed me. I may not have impacted them much during the seven weeks we spent together, but they have forever impacted the way I love kids in my classes. The lessons I learned from them early in my teaching career carried over into China and Mongolia, and are still reaching into the lives of my current students.

Anyway.

Valentine's Day this year--my first year as a regular classroom teacher.

(well, technically the last day before Winter Break was two days before Valentine's Day)

It was exhausting and not nearly as fun as my student teaching Valentine's Day, BUT.

A student came into my room at 7:35, beaming, with a gift for me.

My classes were interrupted with the delivery of chocolate roses and a singing gram, ordered by another student.

I gave the kids Minion Valentines and chocolate cookies and got plenty of hugs in return.
Then we had an early dismissal due to snow, so they all went into squirrel-on-pixie-stix mode.

I don't have anything hugely deep or theological to say about all of this--just that Valentine's Day now makes me miss my old fourth graders. And they help me remember that sometimes the people we want to influence end up influencing us much more than we expected.

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.

I'm Not Sorry

Question: How was your day?

Response #1: It was ok.

Interpretation: Nobody died. I fulfilled my duty.

Response #2: Hahahahahaha.

Interpretation: I'm laughing so I won't cry, but in about an hour I'll think of today as a really great story.

Response #3: IT WAS AWFUL.

Interpretation: I'm a firm believer in honesty.

Response #4: IT WAS GREAT.

Interpretation: Somebody said thank you, I got a hug, children helped each other without me asking them to, and I drank ALL my coffee!

Question: How's your first semester going?

Response #1: It's ok.

Interpretation: I'm still breathing and most organs are continuing to function normally.

Response #2: I'm learning a lot!

Interpretation: ...about body fluids, conflict resolution, and how to make the English language sound logical when it actually makes no sense.

Response #3: It's been really hard, but I love my job.

Interpretation: I go through a lot of mood swings and would probably do well with some counseling right now. I love my children and get an unhealthy sense of satisfaction whenever I throw paper away. I'm also accidentally using the words "butthole", "fart", and "stupid" around other adults with increasing frequency because most of my social time is spent with eleven-year-olds (to whom I do not say "butthole", "fart", and "stupid" unless I want to start a classroom uprising).

Statement: Wow, you're getting home late.

Response: Yeah.

Interpretation: Late. So home. Food time? Look this thing on end of my arm. Have five nubs. Called "and". And is conjunction. Conjunction connect words. It the English teach. Food? And. Late. Nubs.

Question: What do you do in your free time?

Response: I don't have much free time, but sometimes I like to go on walks, or bake, or hang out with friends.

Interpretation: My free time is spent feeling guilty that I'm not doing something school-related. I go for walks so I can remember what outside feels like. When I get stressed out, I bake or sit on facebook for unholy amounts of time while thinking about my children and telling myself I'm inadequate. Everyone says I should get a boyfriend. I don't remember what that is.

Question: Do you like your school?

Response: Yeah! It's a little crazy, but I like my students and the people I work with!

Interpretation: It's probably not healthy to spend fifty hours a week under fluorescent lights. Thankfully, I can't differentiate smells anymore and the people around me tell funny jokes.

Question: Are you excited about Christmas Break?

Response: OH YEAH.

Interpretation #1: I need to pay someone to make sure I don't leave the country.

Interpretation #2: I hope I get lots of money so I can buy more pencils.

Interpretation #3: ROADTRIP.

Interpretation #4: Siiiiilent tiiiime. Sleeeep all niiiight. All is caaaaalm. No flooourescent liiiights. Round, fresh cooookies, ready and hot. Tender sofa so fluffy and soooooffft. Sleep in paperless peeeeeaaace. Sleep in paperless peeeeeeeeeeaaaaace. 

Or I might follow this list that I found at school.

Most of you know that this year hasn't been easy.

Usually, your first year as a "regular" teacher isn't.

I've been in rural, urban, and foreign classrooms, but this has been the hardest teaching job by far.

The great part about challenges, though, is that they make it easier to see beauty, cultivate deep relationships, and grow into someone better.

I have no doubt that each of my students is in my room for a reason, whether to be taught or to teach me. 

Someone recently told me, "I'm sorry you're having such a hard year." 

The response that dropped out of my mouth surprised me. 

"I'm not," I said. "I'm not sorry."

Teaching During the Holidays

Teaching during the holidays is like: 

herding cats and trying to count all of their fleas.

swimming with 23 toothless piranhas.

(they won't kill you, but they will gum the heck out of you) 

having a wrestling match with a swarm of mosquitos.

putting a leash on a tornado.

swimming in a pool full of lemon jello.

giving a Tasmanian Devil a bath.

training goldfish to jump through a hoop of fire.

running through a field of porcupines. In shorts.

holding two dozen helium balloons underwater.

climbing a mountain with flippers.

crossing Niagara Falls on a tightrope while carrying three backpacks.

eating popcorn with braces.

clipping a tiger's fingernails.

putting zombies behind the wheel of a car.

playing floor-is-lava with a litter of puppies.

giving monkeys a bottle of wine before asking them to write an essay.

My brain has melted like a popsicle.
I swear the children have become magnetically attracted to the floor.
Nobody remembers how to do anything.
I've forgotten what quiet sounds like.
Paper covers every surface of my classroom.
Everyone has to go to the bathroom all. the. time.

And, yes, there is a reason why I didn't put a Christmas tree up in my room.

One more day of school. Just one.

This is the block of fudge I devoured after the kids left last Wednesday.
I have no shame. Or sanity.

Curse Words

You read that title right.
In the realm of school, there are certain words that shouldn't be said around teachers too much.
Oh no, I'm not talking about real life curse words.
I'm talking about little phrases that will make any teacher's calves tighten up, stomachs drop, and teeth grit. Words that should rarely be mentioned unless you're looking to be assaulted with raised eyebrows, whacked with a cardigan, and sent straight to the office.
(Disclaimer: these only seem to have an effect on the young teachers who do not yet have the skin of a rhinoceros.)

"Bus duty"
Two teachers. Two weeks. A gymnasium full of children at the beginning and end of ten very long days. Bus duty perks? Yelling, shooing kids out of the bathroom, and chasing renegade students down the hallway.
In that sentence, "chasing" was 100% serious.

"In the bathroom"
If a child uses this phrase, you know your day is about to get turned upside down.
Nothing good ever happens in the bathroom. Ever.

"There's blood everywhere."
Don't laugh. It happened to me this week.

"Check your email."
Nobody ever tells you to check your email because they sent you something nice. For once, I'd like to open my inbox and see an email titled,
"Compliments to the nicest, most patient and understanding teacher in all of Tennessee"
or
"For my child's beautiful teacher"
or
"Free Gigi's in your mailbox"
or
"Hot date with Theo James at the Donut Friar."

"Have you finished..."
Probably not. Was there something to finish? SHOOT. I forgot to input yesterday's attendance, make a list for the reward party, give that makeup test, pass out that important notice, check planners, and sign up five people for detention.
What time is it?
What day is tomorrow?
What was that other thing you were talking about?

"Observation"
The moment your observer walks through the door, the classroom feels like it's on fire and you're sure you're standing in front of the kids in your underwear.
What's a verb again?

"Parent-teacher conference"
This one's a double edged sword. Sometimes it's really good. Sometimes it's really not.
Anxious anticipation should be the next breakthrough weight-loss plan for young teachers.

"Grade cards"
NO NO NO. THAT MEANS ALL OF THE PAPERS HAVE TO BE LOOKED AT AND RECORDED IMMEDIATELY.
There's a reason this rhymes with "graveyards".

On the flip side are some phrases that I like to call bless words.

"I made cookies"
Usually this phrase comes out of my own mouth.

"_______ meeting is cancelled."
YES! I'll go home before six!

"Snow day"
Which is another way of saying "catch up and recover day".
Get back in my warm bed?
DON'T MIND IF I DO.

"Clean"
As in, a student who finished early wants to straighten up/organize that mountain of processed trees sitting on the back table.

"You look pretty"
Five hours of sleep and you think I still look fabulous? A+ for ALL OF YOU.

"I did ______ for you"
You put my tissues away? You wiped down the desks without being asked? You finished your homework for the first time?
Sorry. I'm crying. I know it's awkward for everybody.

"I love you"
This comes out of my students' mouths frequently. And for that, I am blessed.