Exodus

School life is hectic but never, not even close, not even a contender, to how hectic my previous life had been. Seriously. My “late days” at School Prior lasted until double digits, times taken from weeknights, days, ends, holidays. I was discouraged from thinking I needed me time, physical recovery time, physical wellness time, because I can not lose sight of the MISSION.

Here, my “late days” are 5pm, and there is nothing for me to do but go home. Me time is given and protected, valued and honored.

But I miss the crazy days. I miss my kids. I saw a bunch of them this past weekend and they swarmed me, filling me in on the in’s and out’s, telling me that no one was taking care of them like I did, willing, wanting, expecting me to be outraged, which of course I was.

I miss the older kids. I love these little guys, and the roughest ones are eating out of my hand, one of them declaring “There ain’t no ‘nice’ like Ms.S. ‘nice.'” I love their openness and naivete, and genuineness, even their hormonally uncontrolled rages. I secretly live vicariously through them. Rage, little one, rage! I say to myself. And I always smile impishly at them when they get in trouble, and they always know I am on their side. OK. Not always. Obviously I am a professional. OBVS! Humph.

I wanted the paperwork side of SPED and boy am I getting it. And boy am I learning a lot! I love it. I love learning. I’ve always wanted to know EVERYTHING and learning gives me such a high. Along with designing a great lesson plan. Ain’t no high like a Ms. S– lesson plan. YEAAAH.

I’ve been writing. Here, there, here and there. I miss the writing.

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