So I read the Jen Hatmaker blog post about the end of the school year mom that EVERYONE on facebook posted and I laughed right along with those moms. I’m not quite to that level in my momhood yet, but I’ll be there soon enough. But I got to thinking about how teachers feel at the end of the year too and decided to write a “I got the teacher’s back response.” :) It will make loads more sense if you read her post first.
Here is Jen’s post:
http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2013/05/30/worst-end-of-school-year-mom-ever
And here is mine:
You know the Beginning of School Energy? When the classroom is clean and the kids are quiet? Our classroom library is organized and the books are all exactly where they are supposed to be and not bent? Teachers, remember when you had everything in its exact spot with colorful labels, and you could actually see your desk?
I am exactly still like that at the end of school, except the opposite.
We are EXHAUSTED. Pretty much since Spring Break folks. It’s a miracle that we even get ourselves to school each day.
Managing a class of 20 kids will wear you out. Sure they know the rules, but even the great ones go a little crazy this time of year.
Yesterday, a sweet student reminded me of those dad gum reading logs.
“Mrs. Bush! You didn’t put a star on my reading log!”
“I’ll get it later.”
“You said that yesterday!”
“Okay, okay - I’ll give you a star.”
Another kid will pipe in:
“We still have to do our reading logs right? You said at the beginning of the year we would get so much smarter if we read for just 20 minutes a day.”
“Yes, I did say that didn’t I. Reading is always a good thing.”
The truth is we are so sick of those little stars and having to check every reading log each day. But lord help us if we don't because there will be lots of reminders until we do.
And then there’s the line. There are five days of school left and my kiddos are still treating spots in line as if they have cash prizes associated with them. IT’S A SPOT IN LINE MY FRIENDS! You do not get a cookie for getting to our room first. I realize that flipping a light switch is apparently the highlight of your day, but I’m pretty sure you have several of those at your own house as well.
Then the district says you have to administer DRA and DMA (or insert other test of your choice) during the same testing window of, oh about 20 days, when you’re also trying to cram in awards day, end of the year party, camp out, memory books, etc. because it’s all tradition and goodness knows we can’t break tradition.
So we skip calendar for the third time this week, because seriously, if they don’t have that by now they aren’t getting it this year. Just whatever, girl.
Having to keep up with all the end of year RTI, 504, ESL meetings and paperwork is enough to make anyone’s head spin. There is no end to it. And if you think there is, you are wrong - so very very wrong. Just when you think you’re all caught up, that little red flag will pop up on your email again with yet another end of year task you have to complete...by the end of the day.
So, teachers out there eating crackers and peanut butter for lunch because you’re just that tired in the morning and an extra five minutes of sleep is worth more to you than the five minutes it might take you to make a lunch, washing your spirit shirts countless times because you just have to wear it to yet another end of year event, I got your back sister. We were awesome back in October - wait, hold it right there - we’re still pretty darn awesome now and that counts for a whole heck of a lot. We will get a new group of kiddos next year that will get our new fresh energy and we’ll be ready to party like it’s 1999 with them. Then our old kiddos that drove us bonkers the last few weeks of school will come back and give us huge hugs and tell us all about their summers. That's when we’ll realize that we’ll keep doing this crazy cycle again and again because it’s all so very worth it. Hang in there, teacher. Just a few more days until summer, when we can stay in our pajamas, watch the Today show, and shop at the grocery store during normal hours, until that one day we are sitting on the couch and realize:
“I’m bored.”
