He has WAAAAAAAAY more patience than I do...

~
I've documented my children's penchant for saying "Why?" constantly.

Sure enough, the Why-Monster raised it's ugly head again today.

Girlie: "What are you doing to my brother?"

Dear Husband: "Changing his diaper."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because he peed."

Girlie: "Why?"

[I should interject at this point, I would have said, "Because he's a little boy." And when Girlie responded with why again, I would have shot back with with a "Because God made him that way." And if I got another why, I would have shut it down with "You'll have to ask God." Not my husband. Oh no. He followed this through to the bitter end.]

DH: "Because he drank a lot of water."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's hot outside."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's summer."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because this hemisphere is closer to the sun right now."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's a cycle."

Girlie: "Oh."

My husband's a show off.

Back in the Classroom

~
For the past two days, I've been back in the classroom. I'm fortunate that my classes are online, so that I get to be a stay at home mom and still do what I love. But I still have to spend about 11 days in classroom. 11 days, out of 180? That's not bad at all.

So for the past two days, I've been in the classroom. And it felt great.

I was worried that I wouldn't be able to do it - that I would mess up somehow. But it was seamless.

It made me realize how much I missed it - joking with the students, teaching them things, seeing their "Ah-ha" faces and the "Huh?" faces. I didn't realize how much I missed seeing faces.

My kids, on the other hand, do not care that I got to do something that I miss and enjoy. They are furious with me.

Girlie had gotten used to having me at her beck and call. So now she is testing boundaries. for example, Girlie has spent the past 5 minutes in her room because she refuses to apologize for being mean to her brother. Normally, I can solve that with a quick count of "One...two..." Not tonight. Tonight I got a: "Auntie doesn't make me say sorry!"

Yesterday, Boyo was so clingy that I had to lie in bed with him to get him to go to sleep. He was afraid I would disappear. And today, he doesn't want anything to do with me. I'm trying not to take it personally.

But as difficult as they are being right now, and as much as I miss being in a classroom, I know that I would miss them more.

Teaching and Kids

~
I'm a virtual teacher. That means I work from home. That means I teach once a week, but I set the times that are convienent for me.

Or so I thought.

I held a class on Wednesday at 1 pm. Boyo's normally asleep and Girlie's normally enthralled with a show then.

Oh, not this Wednesday!!

Boyo was settled into his bed, ready for his nap. Girlie was coloring in her room.

12:57: I'm chatting with students when my daughter waddles out of her room, panties around her ankles, shouting "I need you to wipe my butt!" The students who are in my "room" early started to smirk.

1:00: I press record and start teaching.

1:01: My son poops. I can smell it three rooms away. I pray he stays asleep and keep teaching.

1:03: My daughter yells, "It smells like poop in here!" My students start to snicker.

1:06: My son wakes up crying. My daughter says, "I'll go get him!" She proceeds to run to his room, clamber over the baby gate like a monkey, and slam the door. Silence. I keep teaching.

1:09: My daughter opens her brother's door, climbs over the gate, and stands in the hallway, shouting, "Brother got poop on EVERYTHING!" My students are now hilariously laughing.
I take five minutes - posing the questions: What do you think was the start of the Cold War? Why? for my students to ponder - and go to my son's room. My daughter's right. There is poop on the boy, bed, pillow, blanket -- in short, everywhere. Working quickly, I strip the boy, clean him up, put him in his sister's bed, and reset up the baby gate. I set Girlie up in my room.

1:14: I start teaching again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my daughter clamber over the baby gate into her room. I decide to ignore it so long as they are quiet. After all, how much trouble can they get into?

Alot.

1:35: I finish my class. It's eerily quiet in my daughter's room. I hear her say, "And then you just jump." I answer a student's question, while I am carrying my laptop to my daughter's room to see what is jump-worthy. The door to her room opens. She shoves a chair to the baby gate. Her brother climbs up the chair, throws a leg over the baby gate, and tries to "just jump" over it. He and the baby gate collapse.

1:36: I call it a day with my students and comfort my son. As I am rubbing his back, I notice the crayon markings on my daughter's wall.

I need a nanny on Wednesdays.

Teaching Stuff...

~

Why am I always surprised at the number of students who suddenly care about their grade a week before the final?

~

To the parents who believe their child doesn't ever, ever tell a lie, allow me to give you a tip: if I call you and tell you that your child is not doing work, and your child tells you that they are working when you ask them about it -- I'm not lying.

~

I need to make a recording of the following: "No, I am not going to give you extra credit so you can pass when you haven't done any work all semester." It would save me a lot of time if I could just hit play instead of repeating myself over and over and over and over....

~

I have got to stop laughing and then saying, "Oh, wait, seriously?" when my students ask me when the final is.

~

The day of the final is not the best time to tell me you don't understand the causes of World War II.

~

No, I will not give you extra credit because you saw The King's Speech.

~

A tip to my students: Stop gripping about taking the final. I have to grade 200 of them. Do you hear me complaining?

~

No, we are not going to pretend you took the final because no one will know.

~

How is it that I can email my students the last date work is due, I can post the last date work is due on my web page, and I can tell my students daily in class the last day work is due, but I will still get 15 emails from students asking me, "Ms. G, what is the last day work is due?"

My Former Students Rock!

~

Up until two weeks ago, I was debating the idea of leaving the teaching profession. I mean, yes, I'm a SAHM, but I was debating never, ever walking into another classroom again. I was thinking about going to law school. Or working in a museum. Or opening a children's bookstore. Or (my sisters will die laughing) nursing even crossed my mind.

I don't know why... you just kinda hit the point where you are DONE. You're tired of the whining, the whatifs, the phone calls or emails at 8 in the evening. And that's just the parents!

But you begin to wonder: Am I even making a difference? Who cares? None of these kids are going to remember me anyway. They didn't care about what I taught. They didn't pay attention anyway.

And then 6 things happened:

1. I landed an awesome teaching job. One that lets me stay home with my kids and still teach.

2. One of my former students emailed me to wish me Happy Constitution Day. I was stunned that she remembered.

3. A different student emailed to tell me that it was the 90th Anniversary of the 19th Amendment. She even included a "Yeh for voting!" Not only was I stunned that she knew that, I put it into my calendar so I would know that.

4. I got another email from a different student who graduated last year:

"I shared the "I'm just a bill" school house rock video with everyone in my english class today! Don't ask me why because I really don't even remember how that came up but I just thought i should let you know!(:"

The fact that she remembered School House Rock and shared it with everyone in her class, and cared enough to tell me about it, made me smile. Maybe I did get through, I thought.

5. And then I got this email from a student (I should preface this by saying that voting is my soap box issue -- I would rail and rally my students to vote. I didn't care who or what they voted for, I just wanted them to vote. Okay, that's not true. I did care a little about who and what they voted for... )

So I'm determine to register as many people as possible around campus by October 18th, but I have one question so I don't give people false information. If they do not register with a party, who will they receive on their ballot for governor? Also, if they register as Independent is it the Democratic or Republican candidate that will show up on their ballot? It just annoyed me to hear that people didn't know how to register, or that it would take forever to do so. I decided to just help people out!

I got a little tear eyed when I read that. Not only did I get through, but she cared about what I was teaching.

6. Lastly, I got a long email from a former student; one who graduated two years ago (or was it three?). She was commenting on one of my recent blog posts, and she ended with this:

I want you to know that I always have respected you and think you are a wonderful teacher. You have touched more hearts than you most likely know.

I lost it. I started to cry, right in the middle of the coffee house where I had gone to escape my kids and do some work.

And I realized: I did make a difference. They did remember me. They do care about what I had to say.

Teaching has to be the best profession on the planet.

Talking

~
I woke up this morning with a sore throat.

When I started thinking about it - frantically wondering if I'm contagious, are my kids going to get sick, who gave me this virus/bug/cold/plague - I realized that I'm not sick; my throat hurts from talking so much.

Since I've been home with my kids all day, I'm probably talking twice as much as I did last year, when I was working.

The irony is that I was a teacher. So you would think I would have talked more last year than I would have this year.

But I wasn't that kind of teacher. I didn't lecture day in and day out. My students and I had thoughtful discussions... sure, some discussions were like pulling teeth, but mostly I said things like:

"Hmmmm... that is an interesting point. What do you think about what President Obama said last night, Susie? Oh, you didn't watch the news? How do you expect to do well in American Government if you don't know what is going on in the world?"

Or: "No, Jane, I'm pretty sure the Great Depression did not happen because the president was sad."

Or (my personal favorite): "Please clear everything off your desk for your test. Any last minute questions/comments/concerns/prayers/bribes?"

But this year, I'm talking twice as much, and I'm saying things like:

"No, we don't hit our sister/brother... Hey, I just said no hitting! That's very naughty! You give him/her a hug and say you're sorry."

Or: "I don't know why the dog next door is barking. Maybe because you screamed really loud and woke it up?"

Or: "Stop shrieking right now! I'm not raising a bunch of baboons!" (at this point, my children normally start giggling and making monkey noises.)

Or: "Do I have to count to three? One... Two..."

I think my throat is sore because I'm trying not to yell this year.

The End of an Era

~
Okay, maybe not an era. I don't know, does 5 years count as an era? Somehow, I don't think so.

Still, 5 years is a long time. 1,825 days. 43,800 hours. 2,628,000 minutes. Or, to put it another way, 1/6 of my life.

For 5 years, I have taught at an all girls high school. When I started there, I was fresh out of a teaching credential program, nervous and ready to take on the world. I was engaged to be married, living in a condo my parents owned, driving a broken down Saturn.

I taught my last class there today.

As I leave, I am a married, mother of two with an MA, paying astronomical mortgage payments on a house I sometimes lovingly and sometimes reluctantly call home. And I drive a minivan. I grew up while I taught there.

And I'm not sure how I feel about leaving.

It's just now starting to sink in that I am not a teacher there anymore. Sure, I have Awards Day tomorrow, and three days of finals next week. But I'm not going to school as Ms. Gerlach - Super Star Teacher. I'm going in as Ms. Gerlach - An Adult in the Room for Supervision Purposes.

I've been so busy today - making finals, sitting in on meetings, grading, cleaning/packing up my classroom, and -- oh, yeah -- teaching, that it's only now, as I sit at my desk with a glass of wine, that I can process this change.

I'm numb. And relieved. And sad. And terrified. And sick to my stomach. And excited. And I want to cry.

I'm sad to leave my students and my friends. I'm excited and terrified to be a full time mommy. I'm sick to my stomach and terrified about our financial situation and the fact that I don't have a solid plan for work yet. And I'm relieved that I no longer have to deal with the nonsense that has been my life for the past 5 years.

I talked to two of my sisters and a good friend today about what I was feeling - how I'm a tangle of emotions, how I'm not sure if I should be laughing or crying, how I'm not sure if I should grin or throw up. They all gave me great advice:

One sister: "In 3 weeks, you are going to be so happy. The change is scary. But in 3 weeks, whether you have a new position or not, you are going to be in a great place."

Good friend: "Being afraid of being home with your kids is normal. It's an adjustment. But we're here for you."

But perhaps the most realistic advice came from my other sister:

"You're sad because you are thinking about all the good stuff. Stop it. Think about all the crap they put you through. The good stuff was rare. The crap was daily."

Still, for tonight, I think I'm going to finish my glass of wine, tear up a bit, and remember the good stuff.

SAHM, Part I

~
Once again, this is another post with me whining about whether or not I'm doing the right thing.
~
I love my children. Please, don't ever doubt that I love my children.

I'm going to be home with my kids next year. I'm thrilled about it. I'm so excited; I have a ton of fun things that I want to do with them, all sorts of plans to try out. (Unfortunately, most of these plans involve money, but that is a different topic.)

I'm also terrified. Now that it's "for real," as my students would say, I'm worried that I'm making a big mistake by not working. I know that these years with my kids will never come back. I want to be with them. I know that work will be there when I am ready to go back to teaching.

But...

...I actually had one of those rare and perfect days with my students. A day where I nailed it: my students were laughing, were engaged, were having fun, and --most importantly, were learning. The kind of day where I had a big, goofy smile on my face because I felt like the best teacher in the world. The kind of day where, cheesy as it sounds, I felt like I was making a difference in their lives. I felt fulfilled.

And I wanted to cry because I wouldn't have days like that next year. And I'm going to miss these days. Sure, I am sure that I will have different days, where I will make a difference in my children's lives, where they will be laughing and having fun and engaged and learning. But the thought crossed my mind:

What if motherhood isn't enough?

Does that make me a horrible mother?