End of an Era

Yeah, that's right. School is out. Eighth graders have moved on. I have three days left to be at work, and I will have officially completed my first year at the new school. Put the kids out in the wading pool for the first time of the season today. I have all my grading done, so the only thing left to do is plan for the summer vacation.

First thing on the agenda is to go pick up our new puppy. We acquired her at the end of March, but left her with family until we could be home with her full time for training purposes. We'll do that next weekend. Should be an adventure... and I must admit I'm a little nervous. I haven't had to train a puppy for thirteen years.

Next thing will be to switch the kids' rooms and put the baby in his toddler bed. That usually requires my complete attention and all my energy for a few days. However, yesterday at nap time he climbed out of his crib, dumped a whole shelf of videos on the floor, crawled back into his crib and went to sleep without anyone noticing. I think he's ready to handle the responsibility.

With the switching rooms two new paint jobs are required. Anybody up for some painting? The boys (for some strange reason) refuse to sleep in a pink room. And as long as we're talking about painting, I have about half a dozen murals to finish too. I find it's much more amusing to paint with company than by myself (hint-hint).

Aside from that, I'd like to lose about 50 pounds. So obviously, I'm not expecting much from my summer. How about you?

I Was Wrong

... it's the paperwork.

Occupational Hazard

I've had a day.

Scratch that.
I've had a week.

I realized today that being an English teacher is far too risky for us non-confrontational types. No matter what I have on my bookshelves someone is going to complain about it. I may as well fill the shelf with Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose. Perhaps those are benign enough not to raise eyebrows.

Forget about how much more paperwork English teachers naturally incur. Forget about the widely varied curriculum we have to cover. Forget about the absolutely execrable essays we have to read on a daily basis. Forget about the behavior issues even. The worst thing about teaching English -- bar none -- is the ridiculously over-sensitive people who cannot, for the life of them, take responsibility for what their own children CHOOSE to read, so they have to blame the teacher.

At least that's how I'm feeling today... tomorrow I may think it's the paperwork.