(background info: it was announced that Dec. 13 would be a school wide ugly sweater day)
Yesterday I was wearing a Christmas sweater and without any guile or intended rudeness, several students said, "Wait, is today ugly sweater day?"
I told them I was deeply offended.
Later, in the teacher's lounge, multiple teachers told me they loved my sweater.
Take that, eight year olds.
***
When I dropped off my students for lunch, a 4th grade teacher, who's an intern, straight up lectured me about coming to lunch too early, because 4th grade was supposed to be before 3rd grade. Pretty cheeky for someone young enough to be my daughter but I apologized and said I must have the time wrong. The school secretary was in the hall and said, "Nope," she said, pointing to me. "You're on time." She pointed to the intern. "She is late."
Take that, intern.
***
My classroom has been super hot lately. So I wore my ugly/not ugly (depends who you ask) sweater at great personal peril. All day it was 76 degrees and my students had flushed cheeks and drowsy eyes. Also, all day I had the door propped open with a fan inside the door. Who knows how hot it would have gotten otherwise.
I told the custodian. He was typically unconcerned. He said, "That's actually right where we want it."
But is it?
As the day progressed, I decided it was a ridiculous situation to have me heating the playground at the
I went to Courtney. She is the assistant principal and the number one choice in the school if you want anything done. She came to my classroom and told me my thermostat was broken because it's supposed to make a noise like releasing air when you adjust it. She is on the case.
Take that, custodian.
***
One of my favorite parts of being a mother was reading to my children. I loved Christmas time when I would wrap up all our Christmas books for an advent calendar and they would take turns unwrapping every day. We would sit on the couch, Braeden and Emma snuggled on either side of me with Mark a wriggling mass of busyness on my lap.
I miss it.
Yesterday, our song practice with the other third grades finished earlier than expected (put 70+ kids in a room who have all been to primary for years and they can sing). I had a chance to read them two Christmas books. I read Jan Brett's Who's That Knocking on Christmas Eve. There was a lot of oohing and aahing over her amazing illustrations and kids saying, "Wait, let me see!" Then I read Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect. They were mesmerized and a few of the girls sighed in contentment at the end. It was pure joy for me. I have people I can read to.
Take that, relentless passage of time.
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