It's Teacher Appreciation Week at our school. It's May. There are only a few more weeks of school left, and I just had a light bulb moment. Someone should notify Oprah.
Dearest Teachers: I have come to realize I appreciate you more in August and September. At the beginning of the school year, when there's still some bounce in your step and some glimmer of hope in your eyes. The beginning of the year is exciting and full of fledgling dreams. Everything and anything seems within reach. I appreciate you because I know you’re ready to face the new challenges and I know you’re ready to do what needs to be done. Or, at a minimum, I know you're ready to teach to a state mandated test, resulting in future funding for our school. There’s no mountain too high, no valley too low…… etc, etc.
In May, we’ve lived through all those life lessons. I’m not as excited to appreciate you after you’ve ‘done what needed to be done’. I know. It’s necessary. Boys have got to do their growing up. I totally get it. I’m just tired and would rather just wish you a happy summer than spend a day appreciating you at a luncheon. I still baked you some brownies. Totally drug free brownies, so you can enjoy them, honest!!
I feel the need to go on. Let me just update all of the blog-o-sphere.
To the teacher that ripped my two little guys a new one for a minor infraction while ignoring your own child two steps away holding an innocent third party in a head lock: I’d like to wish you a happy summer. (P.S. If you would have looked up, and taken one breath you would have seen the Bossman over your right shoulder ready to calm the situation with his own off-spring. My baby daddy is so cool like that.)
To all teachers who have labored over trying to teach one dyslexic boy how to spell: he still can’t spell. I apologize. I know it’s my fault because I told him in First Grade that spelling wasn’t a life skill he was going to need. Who knew that was a day he was listening to me? I appreciate you averaging in all those bad spelling grades with the phenomenal grades the boy gets for creative thinking making him look to the outside world all average and stuff. Hey blog-o-sphere…. Google average IQ’s of dyslexic people. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
My dream now is for some super smart computer programmer to make some new dyslexic program to alert the child that although he has spelled a word correctly, it’s not the word he intended to use. I’m dreaming the alert might be some vocal siren type thing that says, “I don’t think this is the word you meant to use. Read it out loud to someone (often your mom) so she can give you the first three letters of the word and we can try again.”
Communities must band together to save the spell check!
To all the teachers that took my boys safely all over the state of Texas all year long for UIL, sports, band, FFA or other activities: You guys are rock stars! I mean that! Thank you for showing the boys something new. They believe you when you encourage them. They are confident you have given them the training and knowledge to succeed. You’re making them better young men, and giving them life experiences to uniquely mold them. These are the things they look forward to, talk about all the time, and remember forever.
Hello world. I’m a 40 year old mom who is only a few weeks away from completely surviving her first year of high school AND her two babies’ first year of junior high school. I’m fatter than I was in August, but no worse for the wear.
Summer is on the horizon.
We’ll be pool side with our brains switched to the ‘off’ position.
Warning to people who think they're funny: The first person that tells me how they feel about my boy driving soon, will be kicked in the face. You can't cry if you were warned.