thurday, better.

I. A and B were on the checkerboard today... multiplying into the millions, which was very cool - they thought it was so fun, worked on it all morning. love that.

But the nightmares have started. The not-getting-it-all-done nightmares, the ones where the principals are in my room and my class is a mess and nobody can read and it's all my fault. Dammit. Woke up with a few of them last night... And oh yeah, I remember last year now, and how I became the worst insomniac worrying about kids and standards and parents and accountability...

And G has lice. G, who's thick black hair was infested over and over and over last year, to the point that the nurse filed a report. Though S was worse, and reported as well. Her mother thought dying her hair blond would do the trick. So my brown eyed girl is a constant bottle blonde. I had lice four times last year, maybe five? You have no idea how disgusting and I mean to the point of gagging it is when you find yourself combing bugs out of your hair. So this year, I see nits, and I have no mercy. Nurse. Now. Bye.

I feel for the parents, sure. They don't call it "nit-picking" for nothing. My husband has his thick fingers in my slippery straight hair, squinting his eyes under a bright light... ugh. Awful. How did I forget about this? Lice and Nightmares?

My stepdaughter was just watching the weather channel. "Full moon tonight."
"Really?" I call out. "Tonight?"
"Yeah, why?"
"It just makes sense."

"There must be something going on," one of my teacher friends said this afternoon. "Two of my kids got into fights today."
"Mine were crazy too!" I say back.
And another teacher rolls her eyes, shakes her head and says "don't even ask."

But I digress.

What I really wanted to say was that I feel like this has become this whine forum. All I seem to do is write about how hard and thankless my job is, but that's not really the truth. There are moments - and sometimes they are only moments - and sometimes they are extended lessons where the children really get what I'm teaching and are rapt to be left on their own to explore... Or the hard edge kid that turns it around with just the right amount of love and boundary... Like J, who came in like a lion last year, and now is one of my best students. Or A, the boy who ran from the playground, who has not had a really bad day since... He has not run out of the room, or thrown a chair or anything. And if you knew him, you would know that this is glory.

And the love - the "can I give you a hug Ms. Lowe?" or the drawings, the hearts, the "I love you Ms. Lowe"'s ... There are the moments of really looking into a child's eyes - I mean really looking, seeing, acknowledging, connecting - and a spark of love and pride and hope so deep it keeps you going... keeps me going... I mean, there really is that, too...

And my fellow teachers - You cannot work at this job without a big heart. And so many of my colleagues have huge hearts - and we all know, like a club or a tribe, we all know what the other is facing. In fact nobody understands more -no spouses, no friends - I mean, when a teacher friend turns and says "I had a bad day..." you can imagine exactly what that day was like and with a heart full of sincerity and compassion, say, "I know what you mean."

It is such a push/pull. It is such a black/white scenario - it is so heartening and disheartening at the same time. It is so hopeful and so agonizing.

My ell sped kid MC. who listens to nothing and no one and yet smiles - I mean, really I think he has the mentality of a two year 0ld - and today when he ran out of the room for the umteenth time and my para had to go chasing him, AGAIN, I called the office to say "I can't do this anymore." MC. knew what was going on, me on the phone, and the guy bawled. I mean wept. And came and hugged me so hard, snot and tears and all, and I knew - I know - it's not really this kid's fault. For whatever reason, he really can't help himself. And I hugged him back and when the counselor came I said "we have to do something for this kid. He needs more than we can give in here."
So now it's documenting by the moment and mounds of papers and forms to see that this happens. And we'll see from there. Meantime, the counselor told me he'll have to stay in my room for at least a few months while this processes.
I already knew this. And though he is a pain in my ass, I really love the guy. He is so endearing and smiles and though we don't know one another's language, we understand somehow.

Though I am learning more and more Spanish and using phrases in my class... I love this, too.

But it's really not all bad, even if it is, even if I complain that it is. I would have walked out by now if there wasn't something in it for me. I really do love it and hate it and love it and hate it and love it.
And sometimes I can't think I can do it one more day, and then it's a good day and I can do it for one more day after that - and on it goes.

So. tomorrow's Friday. And thank God, that's no lie.