To My Teacher Self

TO MY TEACHER SELF

Girlfriend, I miss you.

It's not to say I'm not happy being a stay-at-home mom--truly, I love seeing the kidlet struggling up on all fours as he figures out the crawling thing.  But I miss you, that teacher you.

Lady, you sure had a GREAT gig going on at that rockin' elementary school, and YOU LOVED IT.

Room five was your other home.
The smells of crayons came like a wave of welcome each morning at 7:29 (or 7:35 if it was a rough morning), and your mind started to race in full-gear preparation mode.

I miss how you greeted each class with gusto as you went to pick them up, "HELLO, BLUE CLASS! HELLO, YELLOW CLASS!" and how they responded with bright smiles.

I miss how you asked your students at the start of class "0 to 5, 5 being the best, how are you feeling today and why?" and you'd listen to their responses, relating everything from excitement over a new hamster to mourning after the Jazz game last night to longing for their triplet cousins in Florida.

I miss how you'd chat with the other teacher peeps in the Faculty Room, a place where--in your mutual, unique career way--you all just UNDERSTOOD each other. You celebrated and mourned and laughed and groaned teacher-things together.

I miss how your students would gather around you for guided reading, shared reading, read-aloud, mini meeting... how they'd gather around you at lunch time to give you the apples they didn't eat instead of throwing them away... how they'd gather around you to hug you at the end of the day and tell you they loved you. Children express their love unreservedly, and you admire that.

Let's be real though, I don't miss the stressed-out you when piles of papers to be graded and journals unread and emails unopened loomed expectantly at you from the edges of your desk.

A piece of me misses how you would weep at night when you worried about your 64 little pupil humans. You worried about whether or not you were good enough to teach them all they needed to know, and whether or not you would be able to tolerate each other the whole year through, and whether or not they were progressing on the Lexia learning program, and whether or not you were giving them all the love they needed.

I miss how at the end of the day, you'd have a slew of fabulous stories of 3rd grade wonders to tell your husband and family and friends. You have enough material to write an intriguing book or two by now.

I miss how anything Harry Potter related sent any student from any grade to talk to you to tell you about it (and they'd tell Mrs. Naval, too. You both had that HP teacher vibe).

I miss how, when your class was ROWDY, you'd grab their attention by belting a song.

I miss your nickname, "Mrs. J."

So like, I know we didn't break up or anything (because well... I'm you... and you're me) but I miss that TEACHER-you. And I hope we can be together again in 20 years or so.

Miss you, sister.