Everyone says your first year of teaching is the hardest. I believe it. I have cried several times in between classes and after school. I broke up a fight in second grade and was called a b**ch by a 10 year old this week. It’s probably against the law to share that, but I want to remember it.
It’s crazy how I can have days where I can’t get out the door fast enough, but then I am also so very happy to get to school and try again with students each and every day. I hope I feel that way all the time.
I cried Thursday morning on the way to work because I just wanted to stay home with my babies. Kendall had an accident and was up at 530 so she was in our bed and Adley woke up soon after. I turned on Mickey Mouse and they both giggled and played while I did my hair and makeup in the room.
I really missed being home with them that morning. I wanted to stay with them so bad. I didn’t want to take Adley to my moms. I didn’t want to take Kendall to school. And I most certainly didn’t want to go to school and raise my voice at students that won’t listen.
It’s tough being a working mom. It’s tough working with two kids. It’s double the guilt. I think we are still in that transitional phase, still searching for our normal. I hope I don’t always feel so exhausted and crunched for time while working. There are always breaks, right?
I’ve been giving all my time at home on the weeknights to my girls. And this weekend I busted out my sewing machine because I just wanted to do something that makes me happy because I wanted to do it, not because I had to. I have like a million school things I need to be doing (that’s what Sunday afternoon is for, right?) but it was fun to just make some ruffle socks for the girls and decorate my house for fall. And tonight I blog. Ha!