tuesday, first day of fall.

Ug.
I mean, just, ug.
It was actually a pretty decent morning, lest sped/ell MC. running the hell out of the classroom four hundred times, and my other darling MD screeching and squealing and complaining and refusing as defiantly as a kid with o.d.d. can (oppositional defiance disorder. I didn't even know it existed until last year, when I encountered it).

Things would be better if it weren't for the paperwork. I'm supposed to teach, guide, maintain, give lessons check follow up chase children re-direct re-direct re-direct AND track three of my students every hour and write down their behaviors for each period. Three of them. On top of everything. How am I supposed to do this?

There was a lot of work going on this morning. B labeled all the countries in South America, and instead of coloring them in, drew the flags of each country. Four children did stamp games (addition of complex numbers), my first graders did the teens boards (and on their follow up work, little I. kept asking me "how do you make a three? How do you make a five?" Sheeeeit. C'mon. Are you kidding me? Did you nap through kindergarten?). Two children were drawing the creatures from the Pre-Cambrian period was it? Two were doing reports on dinosaurs... Etc etc... much much much going on. I have to remind myself of that lest I forget because what sticks in my head more is MC refusing to go into art class and running up and down stairwells where my para chased him for 40 minutes. What sticks is S pulling T's hair and the daily fighting between those girls; S turning her hands upside down and gripping her neck pressing her thumbs against her throat until she turns red.

Yet here is what's funny.
Either I'm maturing somehow within the context of this job, letting things go and shaking them off, or I just don't care.

I don't think it's that I don't care. Because I stayed at work until after 6 on Friday and until 6 yesterday and until 430 today and I'm changing things, trying things, giving lessons, etc. If I didn't care I wouldn't bother with all of that. So I must care, I know I do. I'm just not feeling as tapped out as I did last year. I'm managing to conserve energy. I don't really know how.

Monday's are my long days. Meeting after work every week, then I stay until 6 and go into the hipster town to stroll and get my people/culture/town fix. I often love living in the boonies, but I really do miss the bustle of even a small town; movie theaters, ethnic food, bookstores... And then there's my writing group. By the time I drive home, it's 11 pm and I fall into bed. But I love it- it feeds me - even though I know that I will be tired on Tuesdays, it doesn't matter.

I didn't do this last year. I didn't make it into town on a weekly basis, have a spicy meal (my husband hates spice. I love it.), browse a bookstore or look at cool art, get a coffee that doesn't come from a gas station. I didn't write, either. I claimed I had no time, and I didn't, and I still don't, but I make it, the time, and it makes a difference.

I still haven't gotten the exercise routine down, and this bothers me. Some walks with the dog maybe, but no hard out workout like I used to when life was more convenient. My gym is a half hour in the other direction and I just can't fit the time in without having none left. So I walk the dog and call it good, and feel my arms and ass go to mush in the meantime.

I haven't even been down to the horse barn in like two weeks. I used to make it there a few or at least couple times a week. Cocoa isn't going to recognize me next time I go to see him, or, yes he will, but he'll probably give me the cold shoulder.

But I am aware; aware of the time I need to carve out for myself; aware of the writing I need to do to preserve my sanity, the exercise, even if minimal at this point, I need to keep up and do more of. The town visits and getting out of the woods, also for my sanity.

All of this keeps me more in tact - more available - more whole - more me. Last year I didn't pay attention, just let school suck me in and under like a rip tide at the ocean. This year I'm diving into a calm pool instead. At least trying. I might flap my arms and look like I'm sinking and at times I really am, but at least I'm not at the whim of the ocean.

So far so good. Or, at least as good as it can be.

Right now gotta go cook dinner with my husband and keep us whole, too.