It's just after 7:00 pm on a Friday night. Not just any Friday night, of course: the Friday after the first full week of school. I am already in my pajamas, flopped out on the couch under my green fuzzy blanket, pausing from a Pinning recipes binge on my phone (Pinterest is a beautiful place). Netflix is on in the background and I'm really trying to convince anyone who will listen that 7:00 is an appropriate time to go to sleep.
I'm exhausted.
In fact, I'm so exhausted that I completely forgot that this is essentially how I started my last blog post. That is what the first week does to me.
There's obviously a good reason for that.
After two more class periods of covering the syllabus and covering procedures, we dove into curriculum-related business by day three for each block. All of my classes have successfully completed a letter to themselves (which I will return to them at the end of this school year) and everyone has survived taking Cornell Notes over the Puritans (yes, I teach English, but everyone knows you need to know the Puritans if you're going to read The Crucible). We've gone through bellwork, groans that we're actually "doing stuff" today and gentle reminder to check my staff email every five minutes or so.
And then, I got this comment: "You remind me of a chipmunk."
Nobody seems to believe me when I say I spend my evenings partaking in quiet, unwinding activities. Pinning recipes. Netflix. Re-reading the Harry Potter series. Talking to my cat. Because when I'm in school--especially when I'm in front of my students--I am on fire.
Not a single day went by this week when I wasn't bounding around my classroom (like a chipmunk), calling everyone "fabulous" for getting right to their bellwork, doing jazz hands to get people's attention up front, and making up dance moves on the spot to get people pumped about the Puritans. Even when the attention isn't on me and everyone is working on their own, I still find myself aimlessly wandering or faux tap-dancing around the room. I can't even sit at my desk if there are students in my classroom. I am constantly on the move.
And for some reason, it seems to work.
I have already postponed my lunch until my 7th period plans twice so that students could come into my room during lunch to talk about some tough stuff. I have students coming in early before class to just sit and hang out. I have former students poking their heads in to wave hello. I get asked for the most random pieces of advice during momentary breaks in class.
For feeling this exhausted on a Friday night, it certainly feels worth it.
So here's the plan for the weekend: we're going to try to get up early tomorrow and get some lesson plans and other work hammered out. Both my husband and I are extremely enthused and motivated by the school year and want to hold on to it as long as possible. We used to go into the school every Sunday to get our weekly work done. This time, we're going to change it up and see if we can get things done Saturday morning so we can have the weekend free. A local folk music festival is in town and there are promises for friend gatherings that we wish to be awake and schooled down (like turning off the power button on school) for.
But for now: I am an exhausted chipmunk and proud of what I've accomplished this week.
I'm exhausted.
In fact, I'm so exhausted that I completely forgot that this is essentially how I started my last blog post. That is what the first week does to me.
There's obviously a good reason for that.
After two more class periods of covering the syllabus and covering procedures, we dove into curriculum-related business by day three for each block. All of my classes have successfully completed a letter to themselves (which I will return to them at the end of this school year) and everyone has survived taking Cornell Notes over the Puritans (yes, I teach English, but everyone knows you need to know the Puritans if you're going to read The Crucible). We've gone through bellwork, groans that we're actually "doing stuff" today and gentle reminder to check my staff email every five minutes or so.
And then, I got this comment: "You remind me of a chipmunk."
Nobody seems to believe me when I say I spend my evenings partaking in quiet, unwinding activities. Pinning recipes. Netflix. Re-reading the Harry Potter series. Talking to my cat. Because when I'm in school--especially when I'm in front of my students--I am on fire.
Not a single day went by this week when I wasn't bounding around my classroom (like a chipmunk), calling everyone "fabulous" for getting right to their bellwork, doing jazz hands to get people's attention up front, and making up dance moves on the spot to get people pumped about the Puritans. Even when the attention isn't on me and everyone is working on their own, I still find myself aimlessly wandering or faux tap-dancing around the room. I can't even sit at my desk if there are students in my classroom. I am constantly on the move.
And for some reason, it seems to work.
I have already postponed my lunch until my 7th period plans twice so that students could come into my room during lunch to talk about some tough stuff. I have students coming in early before class to just sit and hang out. I have former students poking their heads in to wave hello. I get asked for the most random pieces of advice during momentary breaks in class.
For feeling this exhausted on a Friday night, it certainly feels worth it.
So here's the plan for the weekend: we're going to try to get up early tomorrow and get some lesson plans and other work hammered out. Both my husband and I are extremely enthused and motivated by the school year and want to hold on to it as long as possible. We used to go into the school every Sunday to get our weekly work done. This time, we're going to change it up and see if we can get things done Saturday morning so we can have the weekend free. A local folk music festival is in town and there are promises for friend gatherings that we wish to be awake and schooled down (like turning off the power button on school) for.
But for now: I am an exhausted chipmunk and proud of what I've accomplished this week.