new year’s eve.

It’s funny…
When I am around people who have young kids they are constantly telling stories about their kids. Because that is their life, it is what they know all day, every day. I obviously can not contribute any stories about my own kids, but I immediately begin telling stories about my kids.
Because that is my life, and it is what I know all day, every day.

The end of the school year is tomorrow, and as always, this becomes such a hard time for me. I don’t know if it is because I have such a small amount of kids that I work with. Or if it is because I get to work with my kids for 2 years instead of just 1. Or if it is because I get to be a part of their families, becoming friends with parents/guardians, taking the kids out after school, visiting them at home, or calling moms everyday. Or maybe it’s because the relationship becomes more of a family type one rather than a teacher-student one; complete with celebrations, meltdowns, arguments and an unconditional loyalty and love.
There are days that my job is just plain draining.
Days that I don’t sit down once until 3:45. Days that I can’t even pee without C. screaming my name in the bathroom door. Days where I don’t have lunch, planning or a single moment without the buzz of little boys. Days where I have been head butted, kicked and told that I am a “stupid ass.” Days where I spend hours under a desk trying to comfort little hearts. Days where I explain that H makes the “hhh-Hattie Horse” sound 527 times. Days that end in tears because I have spent all my energy fighting for kids that I know have the most amazing potential. Days that I call a mom 6 times to tell her about problems we are having… and 1 more call before I leave to let her know tomorrow is a new day, therefore it will be a better one.
But this year… it’s been good. Draining days and all. It has been, by far, the best. Those draining days are nothing in comparison to the days that we celebrate.
Days that we “shake what your momma gave ya!” because my math group wrote all their numbers to 100. Days that I pulled C. across the table just kiss his little forehead because he wrote 3 sentences on his own. Days that the C.’s bring me chocolate roses. Days that I get to take kids out to McDonald’s or the park after school. Days that we get to brag because we are on grade level. Days that A. uses coping skills and doesn’t have to spend time in the calming room. Days that another teacher says, “I can’t believe the progress that C. has made!” Days that we are known as “Brooks and her boys.” Days that I get to call a mom and tell her that I am so grateful that I have been able to work with her boys for the past 2 years, and I am so excited for their future.

And at the end of each year… the whole experience becomes a story to share with others. A collection of stories to tell about my kids. Only at this time of year, it should be a story told with glass of bubbly champagne, lots of laughs and Auld Lang Syne playing in the background.