Feeling 10 years old.

So today something happened.

I was late, again.  It was snowing.  I checked the weather, but we still didn't leave early enough.

Don't worry, I didn't get in an accident.

So, I was late for school.  Today was the day of the big writing test.  It was bad that I was late.  And I was late on Friday because of snow then too.  Ugh, embarrassing.  Someone took my class, and it was okay.  But I came in the door and my students!  Oh my students.  They ran out of their seats. 
"You're laaate!  Why are you late Mrs. Kosterrrr?? What took you so loong?"  Oh. I felt like I was ten again!

How is it that spending time with ten-year-olds make that happen?  I am their teacher! I am a good 13+ years older than them! (Don't tell. They like to guess how old I am.)  I don't understand!  And yet there I was!

And I said, "Don't you think I feel bad?  Don't you think I did my best?"  *cue getting a little choked up* (definitely NEH-ver did that as a kid...) (Actually I did it all the time...) "Don't you think I wanted to be here?"

Apparently tears (really it was only slight eye-mistiness and a very little voice shaking), are a lot more effective adult to kid vs. kid to kid. (When I was a kid, they just looked, turned around, and giggled a little. Oh I still remember.  I see them do it to each other.)

Suddenly it had all turned around.  "Mrs. Koster, was your drive really bad?  I heard you telling that teacher it was a parking lot. How far away do you live again?  Woah I wouldn't want to go that far every day..."

Empathy! What?  If only I could teach them to treat each other that way!  They really are the sweetest, once they get out of themselves! Oh, have I taught them anything?  And such feelings...


Then it was inside recess and they were hooligans and I had to be mean Mrs. Koster and my own empathy rather flew out the window.  I made a kid cry. I apologized but I still don't really feel bad about it.

Oops.

Cleaning the Kitchen

“The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always benefits more than he or she who is served.” President Gordon B. Hinckley

 ...

Okay, so no great service was done in this house tonight.  I just felt bad about myself, and I felt like a slacker wife, and I didn't make dinner. (We had Cafe Rio.  And it was good.  But still.)

So I put on my headphones, and I did the dishes.  They were gross.  Its been a crazy week. But I did them.  And I took the trash out too.

And it came to pass that I felt better about myself. Amen.

Sunday

He's cooking.

I'm sick, dreading work tomorrow, and blogging.

He's incredibly good.  And nice to me.  I would love to say that he is cooking because I am sick, but lets face it.  He always cooks.  He says he likes it.  I know I like it.

My house is messy, but much cuter than last week.  On Monday my mom and sister came and we bought curtains and painted.  It looks better but we still need to put pictures up.

Its weird that that was just a week ago.  It feels like much longer.  Its been a very long week.  Matt's grandpa passed away.  We saw him Wednesday night, Thursday night, and just a couple hours after he died on Friday.  It was sweet to be surrounded by family, and he had a stroke 8 years ago, so he hadn't been himself for a while.  But it was still a little sad. It was sad to think that I never knew him, and that my future kids wouldn't.  Well, on this earth.  Maybe they're getting to know him right now.  I don't know how that works, but its a nice thought.

It made me want to hold onto life and never die.  It made Matt say he wanted to die young(er) and quick, so he wouldn't have to suffer. I get that, but it also makes me sad.  I don't want him to die ever.  Bleh.  I don't like thinking like that.

Let's get back on a positive note.

Its snowing, which should clean out this nasty air. (Worst in the nation. Ew.)

I now only have 22 kids in my class (I'm sad one moved, but maybe it will make life easier.)

My husband makes a cute funny face while he grates cheese.

We got to see Matt's dad and sister this week, and it was so so nice to see them.

My primary kids are adorable.

I took a two hour nap today.

I like Sundays.

DDP Induced Rambling.

I'm in a very silly mood.

I'm not fully sure why, but I figure hey, let's go with it.  This might be entertaining to read later.

I just realized why.  44oz of Diet Dr. Pepper.  It is, after all, the nectar of the gods. 

Well anyway.  Pretty much every day this week I have fallen asleep while reading a Harry Potter fanfiction novel (I found it on pinterest?  Its intriguing?  I don't know.)  Last night I was next to my dear husband who I "love so terribly much" (to quote Matthew Crawley.  I'm "so terribly" obsessed with Downton Abbey.) And he was studying.  He had gone to school all day, worked, cooked dinner, and then studied like a madman.  I am awfully proud of him. (I think I finally understand why teenagers use bad words to mean good things!  Sick!)  I'm also painfully in love with his new "hipster" glasses and the fact that his name is Matthew.  (Wow, this is turning into a wordy love note to him?) #toomanyparenthesis #switchingtomisusedhashtags

I feel a little like a dud.  I spend too much money, never clean up, and waste an enormous amount of time on the internet every day.  I feel like I'm getting squishier.  My hair has gotten absolutely ridiculously too long. I made him switch cars with me because my tire was flat-ish this morning.

I feel absurdly lucky.  I have a good job, a great family, and the best husband.  I just feel as if I need to be better.  A better teacher, and a better wife (whether or not that includes all those vain things above, I'm not sure.) #crapIdiditagain 

I think that a portion of... my current state is because I'm so tired.  Teaching sucks everything out of me. #noI'mnotpregnant  I interact intensely with kids, all day, trying to form them into better people, trying to teach them something, getting frustrated with their behavior, and also plenty of laughing with/at them.  How can I have more energy to be better?  Should I start exercising?  I know I'd get stronger but right now I don't see how I could begin.  Too tired.  Should I go to bed earlier?  I already feel like I never see my husband.

How did this post start out?

Oh well, I'm happy.  I guess I'd just like to express to the world that teaching is hard and great, and my husband's the best no battle, and you can always do more, but you can also be happy now.  With what you have, where you are.

What to do when you won't grade papers.

Write a whole bunch of random stuff.

1.  So, our heater is broken.  Which is cold.  One day it worked, the next it smelled like wet dog, and the next, it was blowing cold air.  Now we're waiting for a new one.  And its cold.  Last night I got in bed to warm up, and Matt had to wake me up to go take my contacts out.  When he went to bed.  Like 2 hours later.  He said I was not mean. My family says I'm mean when you wake me up and I'm not all the way awake.  I apparently just "did not listen to him".  Well. My husband tells me what to do a lot.  Not really.

2.  Got dinner ready by nine tonight.  Go me... Hey, at least I cooked.  Oh and the rice looked like mashed potatoes.  Oops!

I like this post I just found in drafts.  I think I'll publish it.

the montage is the best part (an exercise in self-indulgence)

The Sappy Romantic Movie of My Life (I love it!)  (Also, this turned into a compilation of like all my blog posts ever.  Cheating?  Maybe.

They meet young.  Just 18.  They montage into dating a bit, with a rather large dash of awkward love triangle-ish, but laugh through it just before you hide your face behind your pillow.

And then he has to go, called away on the most important of business.  They both know its right, and part over ice cream at that favorite place.

But they stay in touch, and his business changing the world

inspires her to see it.

She goes all those romantic places, and thinks of him the whole time.

And then, he's back! And they montage into dating again,

but this time, there's
Pocket sharing.
Cooking together.
Falling in love.










The best kind of love, where he helps her through hard things, and she starts to see deep into those eyes.

They are engaged, and then married on the prettiest day in April.

After the credits, there's another montage.  This one just shows their everyday life.  She fulfills her goal of teaching, he wins best husband award for always doing all the little things.  And they can't get enough of each other.


And I get that end montage for the rest of my life.  This may be the cheesiest thing I've ever written. :)

Wetlands Walking Field Trip

The Wetlands walking field trip came and went fairly quickly.  I talked about it only for a few minutes to my husband at the dinner table last night, after he asked.  (I must have been tired from all the walking.)  But thinking about it, it was rather momentous.  If the definition of momentous is: "v.  rather ridiculous and funny, now that I think about it."

PICTURE THIS:  125 ish children walking something like two or three miles (round trip) in a long, long, chain.  Me telling them not to walk on the grass, because, well, then all 125 would.  Crossing a busy intersection with 125 ten year olds.  125 tired ten year olds fighting for drinks from ONE drinking fountain at the park. And, "Is there a bathroom near here?" "Um, no."

When we got to the wetlands that are randomly in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, I started reading my little book about birds, and having the students peck like a sparrow, and look ridiculous.  This I enjoyed.

I did not enjoy some crazy hooligan (okay, landscaper dude) at the large estate/mansion/ranch of The R.V. KING that is right next to the wetlands mowing the lawn THREE TIMES OVER on his silly-looking stand-up riding mower while I was trying to talk.  Lawn mower. Talking. Lawn mower.  Talking. Tired voice.  Pausing our lively discussions about flamingos while he makes another pass.  "Do you think..." MOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW  "flamingos are pink" MMMMMMOOOOOOWWW  "when they'RE BORN???" MOOOOOWWWWWW  Followed by my least favorite phrase commonly uttered by students "Wait, what?"

Then a bee was on my pants leg (pant leg? leg of my pants?), and some students told me in the middle of my sentence, and I thought they were bluffing, and then the parent helper realized there really was a bee, and I freaked out about it in front of the children, and may or may not have said, "Get it off meeeeee!!!!".  Yeah.  That happened. 

A kid (not in my class, thankfully) dropped his glasses in the pond while feeding the ducks.  How?  I have no idea.  He couldn't find them.

My favorite part was finally having a chance to hear stories from my students.  Many of them have been through really hard things, and some are innocent.  They all are funny.  And when I focus on that stuff, I know this is where I'm meant to be.  I'm so glad I get to be a part of their lives this year, and so glad they are a part of mine.

Except the grading.