Teacher Drama

I type these words to you from my couch. It is 10:05 in the morning. On a regular Friday, my kids would have already had 100 minutes of class time, read with partners, learned in a guided reading group, taken a spelling test, completed an end-of-week reading assessment, and would be currently getting their snow pants and jackets on for morning recess. As much as I wish every Friday could be as productive as that, this Friday I'm awfully glad to be typing on my couch.

Let me tell you about the psyche of a teacher during weeks with treacherous weather. You have a back-and-forth series of emotions strong enough to give you whiplash. This is kind of how it went for me this week:

1. On Sunday night the Husband casually mentions that it's going to be below zero on Wednesday this week. You get sudden flashbacks of two blissful cancelled school days from last year, which you spent making silly trips to Target for frivolous things with your roommates, watched 9.5 straight hours of television, read an entire book, followed a 30-minute youtube yoga video to feel like you'd actually done something productive, and never changed out of your pajamas. Sweet nostalgia fills your mind and you start to hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to indulge your indulgent side again to start out this new year.

2. You proverbially slap yourself and snap out of it, remembering the plans you've made, the ready-and-waiting classroom that's full of learning materials, and the end of year goals your kids have to reach. HOW ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO GET BACK INTO THEIR ROUTINE WITHOUT A NORMAL SCHEDULE?! You start to actually want school to go as scheduled, no, you start to NEED school to go as scheduled. You have too much to do.

3. Monday and Tuesday go by, cold but not too cold, and you are into the swing of regular routines and procedures, you realize how much you missed your kids, and feel ultra productive after having two weeks off for Christmas break. You get observed. It goes well. You feel like Super Teacher and accomplish a million things, including a health screening for life insurance, making dinner, and running on the treadmill before going to bed at a responsible hour. You are very nice to the Husband.

4. At said responsible bedtime hour, the Husband reveals that his school is, in fact, cancelled for Wednesday due to cold temperatures. Your school, in fact, is not cancelled for Wednesday. You turn into a whiny child who feels entitled to days off of work for no reason. You may or may not cry a little. He is nice about not rubbing it in your face that he doesn't have to go in to work when you do.

5. You self-righteously say goodbye to the Husband the next morning and carry on with your school day, surrounded by vacant area schools, Calvin Christian School the lone reed in a sea of quitters. You call yourself and your students "tough" for coming to school against all odds, valuing education above all else, braving cold and winds and treacherous roads (side note: the roads aren't really that bad) for the sake of your children's minds. You scroll through Facebook and mercilessly judge everyone who stayed home from school today, knowing that you've accomplished so much more than most of America alongside of the smartest kids ever. You rub this in to the Husband just a little. You even go to a dentist's appointment to prove your valor.

6. You repeat this process for Thursday, the coldest day yet this week. Nothing can stop you. You are SO GLAD that we didn't cancel school and tell this to your coworkers.

7. While making copies during your prep period, you hear murmurs from the office of a potentially cancelled Friday due to bus issues. The prideful feelings of #5 and #6 melt and give way to a desperate desire to stay in your pajamas all day tomorrow. No official word of a closing comes before you leave for the day. The roads actually are that bad on the commute home and it takes over an hour to get there. You start to bitterly make dinner. You are not very nice at all to the Husband, who innocently asks how the day went. You are grumpy for the next few hours, inexplicably. You may or may not cry a little.

8. The call and group text goes out from your principal that Friday, is indeed, cancelled due to bus issues. You are a little embarrassed at how excited you are about bus issues. You are ashamed of being happy. You sheepishly tell the Husband that you have school cancelled Friday, knowing that he has a full day ahead of him. You stop being totally mean to the Husband, who is not in fact responsible for the weather or for school being closed or for school staying open.

9. You wake up on Friday at 8:30, after an additional three hours of glorious sleep. You come to your senses and realize you have not been so nice to the Husband this week. You send an apology text, offering to start his laundry today and buy him some beer as a peace offering. He responds with an "I love you" and you remember to stop blaming him for things like the weather. He doesn't rub it in that you were crabby. Not even a little. You promise him that you will be more mature in the future, then go to the couch and turn on Netflix.

In conclusion: Teachers like routine, but they love missing school. Also, Brian is the nicest husband.

The fruits of my laundry labor.