When my new assistant and Miss Dickens and I were standing at the doorway to our room tonight at the end of Open House, waiting until the clock struck seven so we could close up and go home, I sighed, and said, “I would like to have a glass of wine as big as my head.”
I was worn out, people. Worn out, I tell you!
Here’s a brief list of words and phrases to give you the essence of my day and evening: morning, messy room, clean clean clean, keyboard not working, mouse not working, second mouse not working, borrowed computer in room next door, all buses for my class totally screwed up, lunch provided by Princess for whole staff, looooong meeting about rules, realized have not been following many of those rules, resolve to do better, clean clean clean, rush rush rush, home, dinner, dress instead of jeans, back to school with fifteen minutes to spare, done with one minute to spare, open door, CROWD comes in, tiny room, lots of papers to fill out, camera, kids, babies, strollers, moms, dads, cousins, tell everyone that there is no bus home from my class for a whole week, wish Spanish was my second language, hugs from Apple and others from previous years, close door, leave building, meet new staffer who just graduated from my college, go home having made a new friend. Wine. Not as big as my head, but two whole glasses!
As for my new class, they seem sweet. The only difficult child there is going to be in Miss Mellow’s class. Ha! The twins were there, as cute as ever, plus several really cute, shy, but awesome Latina girls, three blond boys, one extremely verbal boy who might be gifted, and….I forget who else. Miss Mellow will have about 9 students, but I’ve got 17 officially and may have more. Several people came in to say they are trying to get their kids in my class.
Tomorrow will be good. It will quiet in my room, lots of stuff is already done, and maybe I can concentrate on lesson planning or reorganizing cabinets.
p.s. Miss Dickens made art galleries for the morning and afternoon classes on the two doors leading into the kindergarten class next door, and she did a stunning, perfectionist job. I told her how much I appreciate her persnickety attention to detail — I hate to have stuff in my room look messy. Or off-center. Or uneven. Lucky for me she’s the same way.