teaching.

Here lately I keep asking myself why I chose teaching. 
In fact, today,  while sitting in a workshop, I remembered the precise moment I bent over a table at my highschool's college days and remarked to a professor visiting from a little school named Angelo State University, "I think I'd like to be a teacher."

And I thought about what sparked that decision.
I loved learning. I loved all subjects. History, writing, reading, even math and science. I liked kids, too. I loved art projects too. And elementary kids do art projects. I liked the idea of it all. A little bit of everything all smushed into one great job. And it would be a good Mom job.

And now I am in the first semester of my 6th year as a teacher in the great state of Texas.

The truth is I do really love my job. I do.
I love the beauty of the school day.
The rhythm and flow of it.
The bell ringing, the routines, the predictabilities.
I love those children that smile up at me. And all their quirky little personalities. Teaching them how fun writing really is.
I love how, while our schedules and routines are so predictable, the kids always bring something new to every day. Every day, every moment is different.


What makes me sad is that this year I feel very overwhelmed by it all. And I can't shake it.
Of course, every year I feel overwhelmed. In truth, if you're a teacher and you don't feel overwhelmed then I don't think you care enough. Because it's very important what we do. It should wear you out. It should make you cry every once in a while. It should be hard. Because that's how important it is.


But what's different this year is I feel overwhelmed by a feeling that nothing I'm doing is good enough. I feel completely lost as a teacher. It's bizarre really. I doubt myself more this year than I think I did my very first year. And I can assure you, I doubted every move I made that year.


Our district is expecting so much right now. More rigor. More assessments. More depth. More higher level thinking. But do it with less. Less support. Less money. Less time. 

I don't know.

I'm just lost. I don't know what's good enough anymore. I used to think I knew. Now, I have no idea. I feel like I'm just working harder but it's not any more effective.
I feel like I don't really know my kids because I'm scared to just take a moment and enjoy them.
I'm exhausted and it's just October.
I don't like how I feel when I'm at work these days.
I feel completely...insufficient.
And, what bothers me about that, is that I am not insufficient.
I am a good teacher. I am a great teacher even.
I get the job done.And well.
I shouldn't feel this way.

Something has to change. It just has to.
Because working this hard and still feeling this insufficient is a terrible way to live.

I'm not going to hate my job. I'm just not. I refuse.
Life is too short not to passionately love what you do.
I refuse to fall out of love with teaching.
I refuse.

Tomorrow, it changes.
Tomorrow, I am good enough.
Tomorrow, I will remember why I became a teacher.
Them. The kids.
They are the reason.

And everything else just doesn't matter.

Perfect Saturday

It's raining.
I'm eating taco soup.
We're watching movies.
Life just doesn't get much better, my friends.

Mr. Four Years Old

I love him like crazy, this four year old boy.

Tonight he was sad because his older brother went to spend the night with a friend. With a whimper in his voice, and tears welling in his eyes, he said to me, "I don't want Bubba to go. I don't have any people." I then asked him, even though I was pretty sure I knew, what he meant. "I don't have any people for to play with." Broke this momma's heart! See, at age 4 Mason didn't have friends over either. But he didn't know any better. Grant, for two years now, has watched his Bubba play with his friends and he knows! He knows friends are the coolest things ever. He wants friends to come over too! But tonight I was his friend and he wanted to "go take pitchers at a cool place." And that's what we did.

I adore his expressions. They melt me.

Be still my heart.

Oh, my stars. His little naked shoulders slay me. I adore those little naked shoulders more than I thought a person could love a thing. I love them second only to his very cute tushy in Lightning McQueen undies. I'm just being honest.  If it were up to me, he'd run around in underwear all day so I could just soak up his cuteness. He's four. And I'm not a big fan of that, folks. I just...oh, my stars. I adore this 4 year old little boy of mine.

***One should note that I adore with equal passion my eldest who is not shown in this post. That is because he still hates cameras and finds it impossible to pause for one moment to allow me to capture his beautiful face and his perfect blue eyes. Mason's shoulders still slay me but in a completely different way now. His shoulders are far less babyish and far too boyish. They have little muscles. They're 3rd grade boy shoulders. 3rd grade... He's huge now. I will just have to drag him to a random field and force him to remove his shirt as well. Their shoulders are just too precious. Oh, how I love them...those boys and their shoulders.