School started back up this week. I may look 19 (without make up/my retainers in) but I'm not a student. In fact I am a teacher.I forgot how much joy even junior highers have the ability to bring me. Usually it's the kindergarten aged children that say things like "You're a Princess!" that I think of so fondly. To these statements, I have no other choice but to respond, "Yes. yes I am."
Being a new year, a new class, I have a new, what we special-ed educators call "case-load" of kiddos. These are the lucky students that get my undivided attention (depending on how many other kids are screaming my name) as I squat down beside their desk and provide extra help through whispered coffee breath. My caseload this year is full of students that are all so unique and intereeeeeeeesting to say the least. One of them is nothing short of brilliant. He creatively creates (oh my alliteration!) video games in his mind and has no qualms about telling me every detail about them. I fight the urge to suggestively ask, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to play kickball with the rest of the class? I'm sure your sports-induced ashma will be fine!" I'm no sports fanatic but during those times outside on the grass, Miss Sara wants nothing more than to hop out of those wedges and jump in on that kick ball game. Instead, I resist and try to follow Brilliant Child #1's video quest, although my mind so does not work like his (I don't know much about weaponry). Generally I nod and ask questions that he seems to think are totally stupid. Who's helping who now one might ask.
This week has flown by, as a whole as well as the days themselves. With my "extra curricular" activities such as yoga, Tuesday Night Fellowship and gettin in those 4-mile runs (bragging) I realize how much a 40 hour a week job cramps my schedule. I'll have to work on getting used to this again.
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