A Resounding Yes

Ah, the last week of school.

Am I excited for summer?  Yep!  Absolutely!  I won’t have to wake my sleeping little children up and race out of the house to make it to daycare and then to a 7:30 meeting.  I won’t have to race all day and then come home too tired to make dinner or play with my kids.  I’ll get to be a stay-at-home mom for a few months.  I might get to read a few books!

Oh, and I’ll get to go to the bathroom whenever I need to!  There will be swimming and piano lessons and sun and day trips, and picnics in the park.

But…when the end of the school year finally comes, my emotions start to turn into waves.  They go way high up there, “Woohoo!  I can stay up past 9:30 p.m.!” and then way down there, “But, what about (insert kid’s name)?  Will he have enough to eat?  And I know (insert kid’s name) isn’t going to read a single book this summer.  And will (insert kid’s name) be able to get to his dad’s house to go fishing?  Because that’s what he wants the most!”

Today, a boy I have in class was walking past me in the hall on the way to pick up his milk carton, and then he turned, walked right up to me, unsolicited, and gave me a giant hug.  Usually I have time to do a “side” hug (I don’t need to end up on a Lifetime Movie, yo), or a quick pat on the shoulder, but he HUGGED me.  It was a bear hug.  And then he looked up at me and said, “I wish you were my mom.”

I just…I can’t even explain how that feels.  To know that this little boy loves me so much and I know that he’s hugging me because I’ve made some kind of a difference in his life and he is sad that school is ending.

The thing is…this isn’t the first time I’ve been told this.  And, really, I usually think, “Well, kid, you don’t even know what it’s like to live with me at home, you actually get a better me than my kids do!”

It really makes me wonder.  I stay much more calm at school with my school kids than I do with my own kids.  I have more patience.  I am probably even a lot more fun, and I’m definitely funnier.  They probably really do get a better me than my own kids do, if we’re talking about personality and patience.

I know that it’s easy for me to guess and say things like, “Ugh, his mom must not let him know that she loves him.  His mom must forget to say I love you.  His mom must….”

But, you guys, I don’t know that.  He might not be saying that he wishes for me as a mom because his mom is bad.  It could just be his way of saying, “You mean something to me.”  I mean, if one of my children told their teacher that, or someone else, I would definitely NOT want to know, because it would kill me on the inside.  Well, maybe not kill me, but it would make me feel sad, I’m sure.

It just really makes me think: about my job and my responsibilities, and about my job as a mom, and about the pressure of trying to do it all the right way.

The pressure is intense.  As my own children get older, I have had to stop doing so much school work at home.  And since I don’t really have time to do it at school either, it just doesn’t get done.  Gone are the days of homemade treats for my students with cute little sayings, or home-made games that I cut out myself.  Gone are the lengthy, lengthy comments I’d make on their work, and so many of the positive e-mails I used to send home.

It’s as though one thing has to give for the other to get.  And when the boy said, “I wish you were my mom,” I wondered…have I let the mom part slip again?  How can I do this all the right way?  Who am I letting down?

On one hand, I’m so glad to be home with my babies (who are 6 and 4, but I still call them babies), but I feel the let-down of the kids at school that depend on me.  They depend on me (us) for so much!  Some of them, no, most of them will have a GREAT summer full of fun and laughter and memories.  And some will….not.

Some will be lonely, and bored, and hungry.  And maybe even worse.

So, there I’ll be, on the last day as we line up and wave good-bye to the buses, with tears streaming down my face because it’s another year that has slipped by me. Another year where I just wonder, “Did I give it my best?”

But here’s the thing:

The answer to that has to be a resounding yes.  Yes, I gave it my best.  Yes, I’m writing this blog post, but my kids are right in front of me, playing in the fresh air.  They are happy . They are loved.  My students know I would do anything for them and I tried to give them the best year possible.  I’ve got to go with this, and move forward, because there is no sense in standing here beating myself up about it.

We’ve got this, you guys.

Give yourself a resounding yes.

Teachers don’t do the job for the thanks!

My husband and I have talks ALL the time about money.  It’s usually like this:

Him:  We don’t have any money.

Me:  Um, ok.  Sorry.

LOL.

It’s usually my fault.  But also…

The other day, my husband asked me if I could stop at the grocery store and pick up a few supplies he needed for a school event.

The next night, he told me he needed to run to the store to get candy for his classroom.

Last week, he bought us ink for our printer, but we never print anything except for things for school.

He stopped at the gas station today to get a soda and candy bar for a struggling kid-he had made a bet with him and lost (which was good-he wanted the kid to win because it meant he got his work done) and picked it up on his way in.

And you know what, you guys?  Not a single person said thank you.

Yesterday, at Target, I bought 5 new boxes of pencils because we weren’t going to make it to the end of the year.

And no one said thank you.

This year, I had 4th and 5th grade students come in my room every Wednesday to write their novels.  I gave up my prep-time every single Wednesday.  Then my co-worker and I threw them a party to read their stories and bought them pizza

And I didn’t do it for the thank you.

Along with a co-worker, I planned, auditioned, and will run a talent show for my entire elementary school, like I have done for a million years.  I gave up tons of my prep-time (which is already non-existent because of meetings) to plan, and worked on it at home as well.

And besides a few co-workers and my boss, no one said thank you.

This year I have bought deodorant, snacks, toothbrushes and toothpaste, a pair of gym shoes, and schools supplies for my students.

Nope, not a thank you.

This school year I gave a student the Heimlich.

(I actually got a thank-you card for this from the superintendent, but you know, otherwise, no thank-you)

I bought fidgets for my classroom, and parents wondered if I could get different ones.  I got asked why the writing party was so short.  I was asked, could I order a separate pizza for their kid who prefers thin crust (um, no).  I got asked if their kid was a great speller, why didn’t they make the spelling bee?

And most of this?  Most of it NO ONE KNEW ABOUT.  And that, my friends, is the way we like it.  This is not just me-this is every teacher in my entire school.  This is every teacher in your child’s school, too.  I mean, sure, it’s nice to be recognized.  But, that’s not why we do it.

You guys: teachers don’t do this job for the thanks.

We don’t do this job for the recognition.  We don’t do it to be thanked, or rewarded, or applauded.  My principal, and the parents in my classroom-they do an amazing job letting me do that they appreciate me.  I like that.  But it’s still not why I do it.

A true teacher knows that their job is to inspire, and motivate.  We know that we are certainly not perfect, and we are definitely only human, but we do whatever we can to help kids.  We LOVE kids.  It’s so much more than curriculum and labels and data and meetings.

What we know is that these are children’s lives that we are fighting for.  And so we don’t need them to thank us.  We don’t even need their parents to thank us.  We don’t need other teachers or administrators to notice us and recognize our efforts.

We don’t need that, because we see it right there in the children’s eyes.

Their grateful hearts are hungry for knowledge, and love, and understanding.  They are excited for enrichment and support and scaffolding.  They may never say any of it with words, but we know it’s there.  And that?

That is enough.

Sometimes I get down. Sometimes I wonder why in the world I do it all.  I know I’m not alone, though-I know that in every house in my neighborhood, people are busting tail, working hard to finish something that they will never, ever be thanked for.  Teachers are the tip of the iceberg.

There are people EVERYWHERE giving everything they’ve got, and getting practically nothing in return.

But, you know what?  This is how we need to live our lives.  We need to do what we know is good and right and true, even when people don’t deserve it sometimes.  We do it, even though people aren’t grateful.  We do it anyway.  We do stuff for people that they wouldn’t do for us.  We do things for those who will never, ever be able to repay us, or even thank us.

We’ve got this.  Keep on keepin’ on, yo.

p.s. I mean, also, you should probably go write a thank-you card or an e-mail to somebody who is super awesome, just because now it’s on your mind that nobody gets thanked for anything.

We were on a break

This weekend, I took a Facebook break.  I just peeked for the first time since Friday afternoon, and after 3 minutes I was over it, so I logged right back out.

I honestly hate how it pulls me in.  I have no ability to self-regulate when it comes to social media.  I mean, part of that is I am writing this book and I am trying SO HARD to grow my Facebook audience to convince an agent to take me on.  My chances of that happening are approximately .006 %, but I’m not one to give up before I get started. So, I spend a lot of time trying to make my life relatable and make people laugh and help people see who I am.

But, mostly, I just get sucked in, and not in a good way.  I am constantly (over)analyzing people’s interactions.  For example, I notice when you don’t like my post, but like someone else’s.  I notice that my extended family members never comment on my posts, which in my mind, equates to: I don’t love you/you have done something to make me angry.  Brian and I both have families who are close with some of their family, but not us.  We see when they get together for holidays and we’re not there.  I notice when there is a baby shower and I haven’t been invited.

It hurts, and I think I would rather not know.  Is it really true, that what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you?  Some of my closest friends haven’t even taken the time to hit, “like” on my blog Facebook page.  I notice.  I wish I didn’t.

I have scoured the Internet, researching what it would take to get my memoir traditionally published.  The biggest thing I can find is that when you are a non-fiction writer, you need a “platform.”  Basically, I need an audience that they think will buy my book.  I’m not sure I’m actually on board with this theory, because I could have 800,000 followers and none of them could actually think I’m worth money.  Facebook is free, it’s low-risk.  I guess it’s not really my choice!

Anyway, I’m to the point where I actually think it’s a better decision for me to be done with social media.  Will I miss seeing what my friends are up to?  Yes.  Will I miss sharing my life and my children’s lives with my friends?  Totally!  But, I’m starting to think it’s just better for me emotionally to hide over here in my corner and not know what’s happening.

On the other hand, I have met so many amazing people through the Internet.  I love meeting new people, and it’s so much easier for me to write than it is for me to be face-to-face, and to be completely honest—I feel closer to some of my online friends than I do to some acquaintances in real life!

I seriously don’t know if I’m totally alone in this (y’all are probably like, girl, go get some therapy!) but I will sit and wonder, “What did I do to my/my husband’s family that they just totally stopped interacting with us altogether?”  We’re not invited for holidays, our kids don’t know any of them.  Sure, we live far away from some of them, but now that our kids are a little older, we’d be happy to travel to see them.

But they don’t.  And we don’t. And so we never see them and time goes by and if we do see them, it’s awkward.  I want it to be different for my own kids, but it won’t be.  So, maybe it’s better if we just don’t know.

I also have this weird fantasy that by the time my daughter is in middle school, everyone will be just kind of “over” social media and instead of being able to see Facebook in our retina scans, we’ll decide to go back to the way we were.  I can still totally text my pictures to people, or put them on an old-school Shutterfly page.

So, what’s up with you guys and social media?  Do you love it?  Can you live without it?  Do you hate it sometimes like me?  Anybody else ready to be done?

 

Letting Go (of everything)

I can’t do it, you guys.

I’m so serious.  I can’t let go. I hold onto things.  Well, not actual things, I’m really good at getting rid of those.  I’m a chronic de-clutterer.

But, the other kind of things?  I hoooooold on.  Like, I sometimes still think about the time in 4th grade that my bff decided to move out of my locker, and she moved into someone else’s locker, and they put a sign on the outside that said, “No Christy Allowed Here.”

I also still think about the time in college when my boyfriend had just dumped me, and I was actually also kinda in love with someone else who didn’t really love me back, and so I drank A LOT of boone’s farm and made out with someone who I had gone to high school with.  I’m not a drinker; not even in college.  I rarely ever got to the point of intoxicated, and now, really never.  But whenever I mess up, I internalize it until…well, until forever.  I know it’s not really that big of a deal, many of you (come on, admit it) made out with a lot of randoms, right?  (I’m going to keep telling myself that).

The worst part is that I still just cannot accept the fact that I can’t make everyone like me or want to be my friend.  We recently had a situation at my work that kind of pitted some people against each other.  I did what we all do; I tried to stand up for what I believe is right.  I truly believe the people on “the other side” did that too, for the most part.  I have no animosity there.  But, I practically can’t live with myself at work.  I walk around, knowing (or at least assuming) that there are people that hate me, because of something I did.  Or they think I did.  Or they were told I did, even if it’s not true.

I so wish I had that attitude where I could just say, “Screw it.  I don’t need everyone to like me!”  I keep waiting for it to come, as I get older.  It’s…ah…not quite here yet, and I turn 36 this month.  I swear, I try.  I do.  I’ve reflected, I’ve been told that I need to just buck up, get more assertive, not care, move on, remember that I can’t please everyone.

I swear, too, I’m in the WORLD’S WORST PROFESSION for this kind of…insecurity?  Is that what it is?  I don’t even know.  Teachers have SO many critics.  Honestly, some parents expect their child’s teacher to be so perfect that they’re actually not human.  I still carry bad feelings from my very first teaching job.  I can remember every criticism I’ve ever gotten from a parent.

And, you know, it makes me realize that most of the times parents were upset, it was about something that I couldn’t control (Why do you even teach French? This is so stupid!  Can my kid just take Spanish twice?) or an issue that we just couldn’t agree on.  I’m totally ok with parents disagreeing with me.  Above all, the student is their child.  I get that.  But, I love those kids almost like they are my own, and it hurts me when parents don’t take note that even if I mess up, or even if they disagree with me, whatever I’m doing it’s because I truly think it’s the best.  I’m not the teacher that just shows up and gives work.  Our class is our family!

Things I know:

I am not perfect.

Nobody is perfect.

It’s ok if not everyone agrees with me.

It’s ok if not everyone likes me.

Some people think I’m annoying.

Some people think I’m loud.

Some people think I’m funny.  Some do not.

But…all of it scrapes along with me, like a canoe scraping along the too-shallow part of the river.  I carry along with me all the friendships that have dwindled along the way.  I even carry along the friendships that haven’t just dwindled, that have just completed halted due to one reason or the other (mostly reasons that I don’t know about, because I sit and replay things and I wonder).

I want to learn to let go.  I don’t need to carry along with me every mistake I have ever made.  I can’t live my life worrying SO MUCH about what people think.  Do I like everyone, even when they try?  Absolutely not!  I need to stop trying to be the one person that never messes up.  That has no “enemies.”

One last thing: I probably need to delete my Facebook account because when people unfriend me I seriously need to know WHY.  Also, on my um, you guys page today, I went down a follower.  Is it because I said butt?

Anyway, what do you have for me?  Do you feel like this, too?  If not, what have you done to move past?