I've spent the last eight months teaching language arts and creative writing to 7th and 8th grade students. For the record, there's a lot to like about teaching. You have an excuse to buy art and office supplies in bulk, you can justify staying up late to read
Hunger Games and
Divergent, and when you find yourself saying hashtags out loud you can blame it on spending 8 hours a day with adolescents. #seriously #icantstopsayingthem #pleasehelpme
All in all, though returning to teaching after staying home with the kiddos for three years was HARD, it was GOOD. Not only did so much about being in the classroom change in such a short amount of time, but I quickly realized that all the on the job learning that goes with being a mom had vaporized my professional vocabulary. I could plan a weekly dinner menu on a budget, organize a pink princess birthday extravaganza, and keep up with the laundry, but I couldn't remember the jargon of teaching. I felt like a rookie again. But this rookie was extra lucky (#blessed) because I was returning to teach at my previous school, in a classroom two doors down from what will forever be "my room" and with the support of a staff that I can honestly call my friends. So while I'm deliriously happy that summer break is almost here, it's hard to believe the school year is over. I feel like I'm just starting to figure things out again.
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| Life at Tuskawilla |
As I wrap up this last week of school, I'm already beginning to plan: summer adventures, homeschooling ideas, closets to clean... I know, I dream big. Somewhere among those earthshaking plans is this blog, my tribute to daily life with the Bug and the Bean. You should know up front that I'm a terribly undisciplined writer, highly critical of my own writing abilities, and will probably publish posts littered with typos. (GASP!) I'm not sure yet what I have to say, but I know I have a voice, and even if I just use it to encourage one other mom, then that's good enough for me.
