the bittersweet beginning of summer.

I did it. I made it. Put a fork in me, I'm done.

My hands don't smell like Goldfish Crackers anymore.

I haven't looked down at my pants today and wondered if that was my booger or someone else's.

And I didn't have to wait for a "quiet hand" in the last 48 hours because I'm not trying to teach mathematics and manners all in the same lesson.

I get to use the loo when I want to now. I don't have to wait for a bell.
I can have lunch when I'm hungry, not when it's my time.
I kept my cell phone on all day and actually returned texts in a timely manner.

No one cheered when I walked around the corner this morning at 8:55.
No one fought for my hand like it was a prized possession.
And no one bowled me over with a hug so full of love and appreciation that you actually wonder who those people are that could ever, ever, ever hurt a kid.

I miss them.
I miss my 18 friends.
I miss our inside jokes, because yes, you can have inside jokes with 7 year olds.

Everyone, EVERYONE, always says the best part of being a teacher is June, July, and August. It's true. We love our summer vacation. Whether you believe it or not, we earn our summer vacation because what we do is so physically demanding. I'm not going to toot my own horn, but [toot].

But it's sometimes a sad adjustment into summer vacation.
It's sad to abruptly stop seeing your co-workers each day. To stop having lunch together. To stop 10 month long conversations because you have to go back to your "real life" when isn't work supposed to be real life?

It's sad to let go of your "clients". My kids are the closest thing I'll probably ever have to clients and you invest in your clients, you take every opportunity to help your clients grow, to help their careers flourish. You love them, unconditionally, because for 180 days they are yours and then one day the bell rings and they aren't. And it's hard.

Yes. I love my summer vacation.
I love sleeping in. I love doing all those little projects that I never could do otherwise, like ironing the napkins or steaming the couch. I love the gift of time.

But yesterday, and today, and maybe Monday, I'm a little sad.
I miss my friends.


  1. Thanks for doing what you do. I'm impressed. And grateful.

  2. That is such a sweet post...I hope that my son will always have a teacher that loves her students like you do. Your students are lucky kids.


Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

Related Posts with Thumbnails