Belly Flop in The Pool of Shame

I’m just going to say it.


I’m afraid… but it needs to be said. Dare I say, it DESERVES to be said.

I…

I llloo…

I loooovvvvv

ILoveMyClass!

There! I said it. (Please, please, puh-leeeeeez don’t let that jinx me.)

They are just so sweet and wonderful and I actually look forward to seeing their smiling little mugs every morning.

Why am I so enamored by them? Just yesterday, as I stood in front of my classroom door giving them directions (which they actually listened to!!), I watched one of my students from last year wander by us. He was completely tangled up in his jacket with one arm stuck straight up, his hood over his face (because the jacket was on backwards), and the other arm stuck in the zipper. Although he was putting up a pretty good fight, the jacket was clearly winning.

Maybe the jacket had some trick up its sleeve? (ha!)

Or possibly it was just some hood, taking advantage of the poor boy. (Somebody STOP me!)

And I looked at my new class and loved them even more.

So why ya swimmin’ in the Pool of Shame, Edna?

Well, old habits die hard. Is that a good excuse?

Last year we could give no leeway, no second chances, no flexibility at all when it came to behavior or else we suffered the consequences. So when I caught one of my boys whispering to his neighbor during my math lesson yesterday, I did not hesitate to nail him with a consequence, which he humbly accepted.

As we were leaving for recess, his neighbor came to me and said:

I know George shouldn’t have been talking to me but he was just telling me that you’re the smartest teacher he’s ever had.

And then she walked away, leaving me to drown in my giant pool of shame.

help!