As school years go, this one is still going quite well... a pretty sad commentary on how the previous six years have gone.
4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).
I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.
I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.
I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
one week down (almost)
Today was the 4th day of school, and all in all, this week hasn't been that bad. In fact, it's been the easiest first week of school ever. As it turns out, teaching kindergarten made my job far more exhausting than I realized. Compared to that, 4th grade is a breeze.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
starting over... again
Today is the last day of summer.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
it's been awhile...
Since I last posted in May, I've thought many times that I should write something then realized I had nothing to write about. Well, really I guess plenty of things have happened, but none of them seemed worth writing about in isolation. Now that summer is almost over, enough things have piled up.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
she would be elastigirl...
This week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my school. The rest of the world celebrated two weeks ago, but, SURPRISE! We HAD to be different. Must be tradition...
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
Friday, April 24, 2009
29 and counting...
The past week has been a series of extreme ups and downs... I REALLY hate change!
After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.
So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...
Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...
After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.
So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...
Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...
Friday, April 17, 2009
an unexpected change
I feel like I should be in Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse because all I can say is "Wow."
Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.
So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.
She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.
The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.
And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.
But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.
Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...
Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.
So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.
She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.
The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.
And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.
But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.
Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...
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