Some Days are Like That...

So this morning was a little bit hectic. After sleeping all night with Avery laying on top of me, her head on my shoulder because that was the only way the congested, sweet baby girl would sleep, I woke up with the most ridiculous crick in my neck, shoulders, and back. 

I arrived at day care with said baby girl in tow at 7:55 and needed to be at my school and in a 504 meeting by 8:00.  Nice one. As I walked in the door of my classroom, I heard the ever-embarrassing intercom page to get my booty in the main office for the meeting. Of course I wore my super-cute but horribly painful heeled knee-high boots today to make the 1/2 mile trek to the office in record time. (You should've seen the is-she-crazy? stares from the students as I ran past them while they asked, "Aren't those shoes uncomfortable?")

Meeting over, plenty of time to stop and get my free Happy-Thanksgiving-latte from the coffee shop on my way back to 1st period. Not so much. The tardy bell rang while I was still waiting for my coffee. Oops. So I frantically scramble in the devil-shoes to get to class before my classroom is demolished by unsupervised 15-year-olds. On my way I hear, "Man, even our teachers can't get to class on time!" I turned in the direction of the scolding voice to see my principal laughing at the scene of me trying to power walk with coffee in one hand and books in the other. Double oops.  When I finally arrived to class, I realized that my fear of the 15-year-olds was unfounded because there was someone supervising: a student observer who was waiting to take notes on good teaching practices. I introduced myself, explaining that this was his first lesson in what not to do. 

Fortunately, five years into my teaching career (which, by the way, does not make me an expert by any means), I am able to cover for my (sometimes) lack of preparation and made it through the class reading and discussion without a hitch. Whew. 

Some days are just like this, and I think it's actually a good thing. Being thrown for a loop is part of what keeps me on my toes and is God's way of reminding me that I'm not perfect (wait, WHAT?!?!) and need to depend on Him to sustain me in everything (not only in my imperfection). This seems to be on my life-lessons-list allthetime; maybe I'll actually learn the lesson someday.

Side note that my fellow teachers might appreciate: Last year I had a student in my class who, let me put it this way, was a little bit of a hellion. You know the kid, the one who you attempt to smile at when he walks in the door but secretly hope is absent. That's putting it nicely. Anyway, that kid was in the coffee shop while I was waiting for my own jolt of caffeine and he goes, "Uh, Mrs. _____, you know how we're reading about that Jewish stuff right now?" (he's repeating the class with another teacher and referring to Night, a holocaust novel) "Yep, I sure do," I responded. He continued, "Well, there are some kids in my class who are laughing at some of the scenes in the book, and it's really annoying. I did that last year."  I seriously had to hold back my tears of freaking joy because I believe that was his way of apologizing for his behavior last year. Maybe he wasn't totally beyond saving after all.