And I am not there.
I am at home with Etta, sitting unshowered at almost 9:00 in the morning hoping that she will sleep for just 10 more minutes.
I have been going to the first day of school for the last 24 years. Wow. That makes me feel kind of old. (Well, at least according to my brother.) Every year I have been beyond excited the night before school starts and have always gotten up excited and ready to go.
Not today. Getting up this morning was just like getting up every day for the last four months. Well, except for the fact that Etta went to sleep at 10:00 last night and didn't get up until 6:30. That is cause for excitement it itself.
I really don't know what to think or how to feel. On one hand I really miss the freshness of the new school year. The kids excitement of coming back to school, seeing teachers and friends, learning. All of those reasons why I became a teacher in the first place. The challenge, the energy, the look of those students as they come in to my classroom. It is easy, sitting at my dining room table, to only remember the good times. The great times. The kids that I got along with really well. The joy of a performance done well and applauded. But in the back of my head, peeking around the corner are the not so good times. The back talking students, the constant chatter, begging kids to be in band "just one more year", disrespect from some parents and even some fellow staff, the long days and the occassional crashed grade book. The stress, stress, stress.
And I need to take a moment to remember what I have right here.
What a blessing she is to us. We prayed to God to give us a child. We prayed that she would be born toward the end of the year so that we could have all summer watching her grow. We prayed that it would be at a time when I could take a year off of teaching to stay home and nurture her myself. And you know what? God answered our prayers. Every single one. I had an uneventful pregnancy, Etta was born healthy and wonderful at the end of April, Bob finished his thesis and was able to spend the entire summer being a good dad and a terrific husband. I was granted a year of leave, and here I am. God is amazing.
So why did I have a tear in my eye as Bob backed out of the driveway this morning? Why do I have an ache in my heart thinking about what I am NOT doing today versus being thankful for what I can do? Does that make me a bad person? Because it sure makes me feel like one.
I would't trade this experience or this baby girl for anything in the world. But I just might grieve what once was.
3 comments:
If you didn't feel that way, I don't think you'd be normal. Seriously. You are an excellent teacher and it's something you love, so no matter how much you want something else (in this case, getting to stay home with your gorgeous baby!), you're going to miss what you love and are good at. I don't think those feelings will really go away (they haven't for me... and I never actually held a full time teaching position!), but you'll always be grateful for the time you have right now. Live it up! :) (Just my two cents worth, anyway)
The investment we make in our little ones is so brief, yet so vital. You are an amazing mom, and a GREAT teacher, even if you aren't teaching in a classroom each day, the lessons you are teaching your beautiful baby are lifelong! Remember, the pay sucks, but the benefits are fantastic! ;o)
On the same day you were missing the first day of school, I was dropping my baby off at day care for the first time... two different ends of the spectrum! Even though I was totally ready to go back and get out of the house - and I feel the same way as you about the beginning of school, I love it - I was not prepared for how hard it would be to leave him there. So I guess we both just need to be happy for what we have. :) And the first time I have a kid come in my classroom and say "do we HAVE to sing today?" I will think of you and be very, very jealous.
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