Don't Worry, Be Happy

Ha! No Sunday night blues for me tonight! On Friday afternoon I finished school and was able to leave almost immediately and enjoy my two week break.

Don't get me wrong, this didn't just fall upon my lap because I am so awesome. I had to stay late almost every day this week frantically correcting papers, entering grades, and putting together my report cards. On Thursday night at 6:45, I let out a loud "Whoo-hoo!!" to announce to the janitors that I was finished with my report cards. Too bad they were busily vaccuuming to relish in my great accomplishment. Oh, well, I would rub it in everyone's face the next morning at school.

Second quarter is thankfully one of the best quarters, littered with a week long fall break in the beginning, Veterens' Day, Thanksgiving break, and Christmas break. It's glorious! However, I felt like I was hardly at school this quarter. It was the start of my first trimester from you-know-where: I had a few doctor appointments, a three-day ELL conference, and I took a mini-vacation to San Diego with Casey. My students would ask me if I was going to be at school for the whole week and would groan when I would start my sentence with, "Wellll...."

Poor babies. Really, I felt terrible for not being there. I've always prided myself with being present at my job. It's far more annoying to put together sub plans than to just tough out a sick day, which I hardly ever was...although, I am guilty of a rare "mental health day," but who isn't?

From my out-of-character absenteeism and no energy after coming home, my stack of papers kept creeping higher and higher. Again, it wasn't like me to let this happen. I felt like a hoarder. My stack of papers was my embarassement and humiliation, but when I looked at it, it was almost too much. Where do I even start? Spelling tests? Vocabulary assessments? Writing was totally out of the question, way to overwhelming to pour over each paper. So there they sat, hidden in the corner of my room.

Then the email came from Ms. Sandy, the school's secretary. "School Master is open to enter your grades for report cards. Report cards are due to me on Monday, January 4th." OMG. I couldn't believe it, had I slacked the entire quarter only to find out the day we return from winter break I have to have everything properly graded and entered into the system? I never want to be the one that authority has to tsk, so I told Casey the last week of school not to expect me home until late each night. There was no way I was going to come in over my break and do this like so many other teachers were planning to do.

And I just did it. I sat there with my stack that started over mid-calf, I pulled out the easy things to grade and enter, then the things that take more time, then the writing, and finally reading centers. It took ten hours over a three-day period. But that Thursday night I was extremely proud of myself. I corrected things thoroughly, I entered them properly, and I even wrote very specific, positive, and constructive comments for each of my students. (This is actually a really big deal, there are some teachers that only write one or two sentences that are very generic. I always think about each child and their home..."How do I put this delicately?" is my ultimate question for those tough cases.)

Now I am happy. I am not worried. Bobby Ferron and I will sing his song together and I will have a huge smile on my face the entire time. I will listen to the Vikings as I type this, I will stay up late to watch some trashy shows on E!, and I will wait patiently for those sweet little kicks from Baby H. That's the only thing I want to worry about.

Did I learn my lesson? Maybe...sometimes these things happen and at least I know that I have a little fire in me to get the job done right, just not the way it probably should have been done!