Sometimes I just don't feel like thinking or writing in complete sentences. Today is one of those days. Actually, the past month has felt like that, which is why I've barely posted anything on here. Today, I'm just going to go with it.
Rolled out of bed at 7:20.
Coffee!!! I...need... coffee... to function these days.
Blizzard! Aarghhhh...
7:40. Hope I don't slide into a ditch, as I drive down a country road through blowing snow, one hand on the wheel, guzzling coffee simultaneously. Yes, risky, I know.
Arrive at school and feel a surprising wave of relief that I'm NOT covering for pre-school class today. And all the while I had told myself I didn't mind it...
2nd graders. Ten kids in class. One boy. Poor boy.
Awesome, I tell them to be quiet, and for the most part, they listen. (!)
Very well planned lesson plan.
Ahhh, this is so nice...I can sit by myself in the classroom while kids are at lunch. No more-"Prestin eat your peaches" or " "Sarah stop talking to Lucy and eat."
Let me emphasize once more: Ahhhhh.
Oh my gosh. No more "nap" time either. Ahhhhh.
1:00 Principal: "We're sending you home at 1:30 since you're from out of town and the snow is getting bad. Oh, and you'll still get paid full day."
Thank you proposed 18 inches of snow! Although, another hour and a half here wouldn't have killed me...
Thoughts on today's class: Helping girl to write vocab sentences. Vocab word: "able." Giving her ideas..."You could say, 'My mom is able to make me breakfast.' Does she make you breakfast?" "No. My mom is in jail." "Ohhh...Your dad?"
Later. Same girl. Lying on the floor, crying. Holding envelope of pictures. Her mom and her. Later, I found some letters that she had forgotten, laid out carefully on a table. All from her mom.
"Hello Princess! I am blowing you a kiss. Did you catch it? I miss you very much...Everything will be alright...We will be together again someday...You are a very smart and beautiful girl...I am so proud of you...Stay strong for me...Love, Mommy"
I make it home through the deep blowing snow.
They say 18 inches to fall from the sky.
For now, the roads, sidewalks, and backyards--a smooth, glistening white sea.
How deep, just looking at it, one cannot say.
