1st week

What I don't like: not knowing stuff. Like, you need a basket to take down the lunches, and leave early for instrumental so they have time to set up, and what the needed school supplies are, let alone the ones I'm supposed to have them use in my class. Computer logins. What to keep in their desks and what to keep in the lockers. How to get anything done when someone needs to talk to me about something every spare second of the day. How to collect school fees the correct way. But those are little things and they'll get better with some time.

What I love: the kids. They are funny, they are curious, they are helpful, and they are up for the challenge. I think they'll let me mess with them a little. Like when there's a few stragglers and I say in my mock mean voice "Geeeetttt oooouuuuuttttt nnnnooooowwwww!", they just laugh. Plus, they are well behaved, which is big. It's amazing how much you can accomplish when you don't have to stop every two seconds to tell someone to stop whatever it is they're doing. I also love the staff. There are about 5 teachers who stop by almost daily to see how I'm doing and ask if I need anything. Apparently I even have an aide who can help me do stuff but I don't remember who she is or what she's allowed to do.

I thought I was going to cry the first day. Just a little meltdown, and then I could be better by day 2. But I didn't. I think I've been too busy. It's like finals week every day. I'm always rushing around in a state of near panic. Hopefully in another week or two things will calm down a tad. Or, at least by Christmas.

This week I tried to set up a lot of procedures and routines. Reading and journaling every day, current events every week. Grammar every morning. I'm so very very afraid that I will forget something important. Something that they really need to know before they go to 6th grade. I'm also very afraid of their parents. We'll be meeting soon and I think they might like to eat me alive.

I know

I will. Soon.

Read this post as fast as you can

I think I walked 5 miles today running up and down the stairs to pick things up or drop them off. The office, copy room and library are all downstairs so I have to run down there any time I need anything. I made the librarian very excited when I told her I was planning on doing a unit on plagarism and we could work on it during her library class. Her eyes just lit up.

I still need to: cut out little tags for the lockers, then tape them on; cut out other tags for a bulletin board then assemble it; create a sub folder/packet; write some lessons; oh and there's more but my brain is temporarily fried. I need to find a fan. It is way too hot in my room. At least 20 degrees hotter than anywhere else in the building. At least.

I don't have a penicl sharpener. I think they removed it when they painted my room over the summer and never reinstalled it. I keep asking people, but nothing's showing up.

I am very very scared. I am very very excited. It changes every five minutes. But I got some new shoes so it's all good.

I can't type anymore- I have to go freak out to Gary some more. He's hiding in the boat, but I'll find him.

First Day

Tomorrow is my first official paid day. I've probably put in 500o already, but tomorrow I start earing some cashola. Although I won't actually get any money in my greedy little hand until the middle of September.

We have to go to the high school in the morning for some kind of teacher pep talk. I've been told to sit up front so that I can be acknowledged along with the other newbies. I've been promised I will not have to stand individually or say anything. After that we will have a meeting at our school and then hopefully can work on our classrooms a little more.

I have a big long list of things I want to do before class starts on Tuesday. Rather than get shorter, the list seems to keep growing. The only thing that I absolutely have to do is hang up my rules, the rest can wait if it has to.

I noticed that I seem to be getting less and less work done as the first day of class gets closer. There's always someone coming into my room to discuss something with me.
I met my mentor, who will help decide if I should have my contract renewed next year. She'll also help me with my praxis III so that I won't have to worry about getting my license renewed. I met the custodians and timidly asked for some help.
I met the interpreter for one of my students. She will be with him in every class and normally I don't like having another teacher/adult in the room with me, but I think this will work out OK. She seems very nice and offered to help me grade papers or do whatever, when she isn't signing for the student. I was excited because I had already planned to incorporate some sign language into the class. I am going to have students show me the sign for "R" when the want to use the rest room. I'm trying to do whatever I can to cut down on all the distractions that occur every day.
I also met the intervention specialist and she happens to be another new hire. There are a few in the building and they're all younger than me, but with more experience. They all have their rooms way more decorated than mine. I really played up my experience as a middle school teacher during my interview and I'd like to think that they hired me knowing I wouldn't be one of those teachers doing all that cutesy little stuff.

I told Gary he has my permission to slip me a sleeping pill tomorrow because I will be a wreck and unable to sleep and driving him insane.

The Church of Tracee

Some lady read ended us last night. We were stopped a a light and she slammed into us. It was only a little slam. Actually, it was two little slams. I think she was trying to back up from hitting us and then hit us again. At first we thougth she was drunk, but she claimed to be just released from a hospital, complete with wristband. She had no one to pick her so she drove herself home. There was no damage but we contemplated calling the cops so they could drive her home. If we thought fast enough on our feet, we would have offered to drive her home. Instead we let her pull out of the gas station, blindly blazing through a red light. Two minutes later it started pouring. I hope she made it home ok.

Today after picking up the little darlings from grammy's house (along with all their new school clothes and dollar store items) we noticed a cop walking along the highway. Further on we noticed another one. They seemed to be looking for something in the grass. By the time we got to the exit ramp we had seen at least 10, all out of their cars and scanning the ground. I can guess that they were looking for a weapon or drugs thrown from a car, but I'll never know for sure.

I'll never know if that lady made it home ok and I'll never know what the cops were looking for. I bet they're both great stories. I would be so much happier if I was God and could just know eveything, all the time.

Finish Line

So like I said, I had a party this weekend. It was a party for my sister, but I also spread the word that it was to celebrate the fact that I got a job. Which really is a cause for celebration. Almost everyone I talk to tells me how lucky I am to have gotten a job so soon, and from what I read on a teacher message board, they are right. Some of those people are going on dozens of interviews and still not getting anything. Sometimes they don't even get a call back saying they didn't get the job. If I was still looking, I would have been hospitalized by now because of depression and anxiety attacks. So I'm lucky. Or maybe I'm just the best teacher in the world and my school is the lucky one.
Anyway, I got some presents that I'm excited about. Money, and thoughtful cards, and gift cards mostly, but also a briefcase bag type thing to carry all my important papers in, a teacher survival kit filled with cool school supplies as well as tylenol and chocolate, and the most beautiful orchid ever that I'm so afraid I will kill like I killed my last one. But I'm going to try really really hard not to kill it.
I just got back from the store, spending the gift certificate that my lovely friend Michelle and her husband got for me. I met Michelle at our infamous playgroup and love her to death. When I called to tell Michelle that I got a job, she never called me back to congratulate me. I was a little bummed and feeling sorry for myself because Michelle is one of those people like Schell and Sarah who always make you feel good and I knew she would be so happy and bubbly for me. Later I found out she hadn't called because she was in the process of getting diagnosed with cancer. I know, I'm a jerk.
I had a lot of fun buying stuff for my room, which is almost done. I only have a little more time to work on it. Today really is my last day of vacation. Tomorrow I have meetings and then orientations, and then we start.
I have had redecorating my bedroom and planning the party to distract me until now. That's all finished and I have nothing else to do but lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and think about how bad I will mess up. OK that's not exactly true. I don't stare at the ceiling, I sleep on my side so I stare out the window.

Sarah

I had my party this weekend. Rather than just a casual cookout, it was a pig roast surprise party for my sister. It was a perfect day and she was surprised and there were no problems and everyone either had fun or lied and said they did. I became way too frazzled after everyone started arriving and didn't get things done exactly as I would have liked. The decorations didn't go exactly where I wanted, the food table wasn't just so and every guest wasn't welcomed the right way. But, it was still ok. Everyone just began eating whenever, some not even waiting for the pig to be done. If they had all been sitting at their tables, silently waiting, I would have said in a quiet voice, "can I have everyone's attention please?" Then before I would have told then the food was ready, I would have said this:

When we were little, we used to love hearing what we would have been named if born the opposite sex. My mom would have liked to name my brother Sunshine, Sunny for short, if he had been a girl. I love calling him my little sunshine, but I'm glad he wasn't a girl, because the real sunshine in this family is Sarah. No one can brighten my day like her. No one can make me smile like her. In my mind, she is a bright yellow ball of happiness and everything she comes in contact with is a little better off afterwards. I know she doesn't always feel that happy, but that doesn't stop her from making others feel special.
When I had to tell Sarah that my dad had cancer throughout his whole body, I couldn't. I only told her bits and pieces. I couldn't tell her the whole truth- that there was no way he'd survive. She did not appreciate that deception, she thinks I feel she can't handle things like that. That's not exactly true. I just couldn't bring myself to hurt her. She's the one we all look to for joy, how could I take away one of her sources for that joy?
Thankfully, she stills finds that joy and passes it out to us daily. She still brightens evey room that she enters, and manages to make us all feel a little more special, a little more happy, a little more loved. This party was meant to give some of that sunshine back to her, to try to brighten her day a little, like she's done for us every day that we've known her.
Happy Birthday, Belle, you old fart.

Elephant Poop

We went to the Zoo on Monday. Mondays are free for residents so the zoo was packed. And it was like 900 degrees outside so it wasn't the funnest thing I've ever done. I went with my sister, cousins, aunt, and all our kids. One of those kids is this sweet blue eyed angel faced little boy. Except he's not exactly little, he could probably play for the Browns this year. And he's not exactly angelic, in fact, we were quite convinced that he was the antichrist until he survived a baptism with holy water, now we know he's just a lesser demon. But he does have blue eyes. Did you ever see that movie with Hannibel Lechter? Where he has to be tied up in a straight jacket with some weird mask thingie on? That's what we have to do with our little Buddy. If he is allowed out of his stroller he must be leashed so that he doesn't run off and begin eating the zebras. He doesn't really like to be leashed, and he doesn't really like anyone getting in his way when he is leashed. Since he is training to be a linebacker, he likes to tackle anyone who gets in his way. Even if it happens to be his darling sweet big sister.
Before he was leashed, while he was still straightjacketed in his stroller, he became rather annoyed and began gnawing at his limbs in an attempt to free himself. To distract him, I pointed out the cool elephants. He had already seen the elephants and was losing interest. Since out little Buddy is a boy and most boys I know are fascinated by anything related to the doopa (much like my sister and her nicknames), I pointed out the large piles of elephant poop to him. You know in movies, when the person is thrashing about in a hospital bed, and the nurse quickly grabs a needle and stabs it into the person, who then becomes motionless immediately? That's what Buddy did. "Elephant poop?" "ELEPHANT POOP!" He was stilled, and we could move on to enjoy the rest of our day at the zoo.

Later that night, after pizza and Barney (oh, what, you thought linebackers were too cool for Barney?) and hours of swimming, I asked Buddy if he had fun today at the zoo. He looked up at me with those big blue eyes, all sleepy and sweet and said "elephant poop!"
I just got off the phone with him. I wanted to tell him that the poop boy was here, sucking all the poop out of my septic tank with his big truck. I thought he would like that story. I said "Hi Baby, it's auntie Tracee!" He said, "elephant poop?" I think I just got a new nickname.

You really don't

The other day, my favorite T-shirt model told me that she'd like to meet my family so she would be able to get a nickname. So I thought about it for a little while and I decided it would probably go something like this:
Schell
Schellicious
Schelliiiiiiissssssssshhhhhhhious
Ishy
Ishy wishy
Wishy washy
Wash yo butt
butt washer
Now, it's always a good thing to have a clean butt, but I'm thinking most people don't want that as their nickname. I don't know if its worse than G Monkey Butt, but it's close. So maybe we won't meet. Unless we stop to visit and swim on our way to Ikea. In that case we would call you Schellicious all day to your face, and wouldn't begin the butt talk until after we left. You always have to be nice to the pool owners so you get invited back.

Baby Love

My family loves nicknames. Introduce us to a new person, or bring a new baby into this world and we go into hyper drive, throwing names out until they start to stick. Then we morph them. I had a dog named Mac. His name went from macaroni to macaboni to boni to boner. My sister calls my poor husband G monkey butt. I think that one started out as some G-unit, G-money type thing. I'm not really sure how the butt things fits in, my sister just likes to add the word butt onto various words. I think this all traces back to my mom who calls my sister cerebellum. Sarah. Belle. Wanna know what my ultra hip way cool nickname is? Spacey Tracee. You're jealous arent you?

Anyway, today I get to babysit our newest addition, Baby Love. My Baby Love. I am looking forward to it because she's at that cute stage where she smiles and giggles a lot and wants to be held all the time. So I will spend all day holding her. I will not do anything school related (Monday I get to go in my classroom and start setting it up!), I will not get ready for my party (I only have 9 days left to get ready and haven't done anything yet), I will not do any laundry or cleaning. I will be monopolized by this little bug all day. I will love every minute of it, but I will walk away perfectly content with my decision to stop at two offspring.