Here is the scoop.
I moved schools and changed grades. I am now a second grade teacher. My children moved to the school I am teaching at and we are all in a state of exponential growth. In more ways than I expected.
I knew that changing grades would be hard. I knew that different schools have different cultures. I have never in my thirteen year career as a teacher known what it is like to have my children attend the same school I am teaching at besides preschool and that sort of doesn’t count. It is so different. It is so hard sometimes. It is hard at the end of the day when my kids need a Mom to help them with their homework but I am wearing “teacher” hat and have my own set of work that HAS to get done first.
I never knew how wonderful it is to hold my children’s hands as we walk out to the playground together. Everyday. Like a real Mom. I never expected that when I would see my son eating lunch alone that my heart and head would automatically go from teacher mode to Mom mode in its endless churn of worry. Or when my daughter runs to me because our recesses overlap just to give me a hug. That for a millisecond, I would forget that I am standing at the front line of my class and I am a teacher. I never knew that when these two jobs placed side by side that Mom always wins. Always.
I wasn’t prepared for the worry I would feel as I could actually SEE my children struggling to make new friends at a new school. Or the immense guilt I would feel because I moved my sixth grade son to a new school. SIXTH GRADE. What in the world was I thinking? I wasn’t prepared for the tears I would have, because of the tears THEY had. School is academically so much….more. We are all being stretched. I wasn’t prepared for the pep talk I received from my 11 year old boy. When he assured me that moving him to this school was the right thing to do and not worry because he would make friends and getting a better education was way more important, right?
I worried myself sick about my new job, my kids, my class and then I let it go and I decided to trust in Heavenly Father that he loved me and he loved them and everything was going to be OK. I prayed my guts out. My family prayed their guts out. I trusted that HE would help them make friends. They did. I trusted that they wouldn’t give up academically and do their best even though they have jumped a year ahead and it is a struggle. They are working so hard. I am so impressed that these kids halfway came from me. Me, the person who was labeled careless from her fourth grade teacher.
I wasn’t prepared for the triumph I would feel when I see them surrounded by classmates giggling and talking during their lunch. Or the leap of joy my heart would feel when I would catch a glimpse of them working diligently in class as I walked by with my class on our way to Music or PE.
We have made friends. I love my class. OH HOW I LOVE MY CLASS!!! I love seeing my kids everyday and sharing my Mother/Teacher heart. I am learning the ropes and so are my kids. There are still tears because it is not easy but we are doing it. Together.
XOXO- My life’s work. The Sunny D