Stretching thinner and thinner here. A long, cloudy winter with mediocre snow and frigid temps has everyone acting snappish. Mr. T has rubber bands on his braces now and I seem to find those blasted little circles every two feet. Mr. B is wrestling like a boss this season, and because of back to back meets this week and nobody around to do his laundry in a timely manner, his singlet will be stinky tonight. I still cannot quite get used to the "required uniform" (fellow teens from the 80's, did you get that clever reference? I say it constantly these days), it's so tight and, well, clingy. However, he's way more comfortable wearing it than Mr. T ever was. Mr. G is his typical rubber self, bouncing from activity to activity with more vim and vigor than a room full of toddlers drinking Mountain Dew. I wish I could bottle whatever he's got running through his veins and take a swig twice a day.
Teaching pulls every last ounce of energy out of me. Can blood vessels be tired? Toenails? Eyebrows? I believe so. Happyland High is a good school. A bit understaffed and underfunded (I know! Shocking to hear about a public school lacking!) but my co workers are phenomenal, supportive people. My students are mostly good, though verging on apathetic as they reach the end of their senior year. I'm pleased with the amount of freedom I have to develop a curriculum and we've had more hits than misses so far this year. But oh dear did I forget how emotionally tapped out the gig makes me feel. My students aren't even particularly needy or weird, but teaching 6.5 out of an 8 period day makes me really sick of answering questions and responding and even talking. Then I come home and Mr. G needs help with homework and Mr. T is bored (which makes me annoyed and point out to him all the possible things he might do to be helpful, but none of them are fun for a teenaged boy, you know). I drop my bag, kick off my boots and roll up my sleeves for the second shift--the dinner and dropping off at practice and dishes and such.
That last bit explains the silence around here lately. Plenty is going on, but I haven't a whole lot to say. I'm still tethered to Henry David Thoreau for a couple more weeks with the AP students, trying so hard to get them to appreciate solitude and silence and nature (incidentally, three things I wish I had more time to enjoy). I kicked the tires on a few seed catalogs but haven't ordered anything yet. I went to the big gala fundraiser for the boys' school last weekend and failed miserably and utterly at getting any auction items I bid on--except for a cedar bench. My knee is still somewhat inflamed and a recent attempt at upping the dose of my meds went badly. It seemed to be improving, but not anymore. My hair needs a trim. The clothes dryer is making a wretched sound when we use it. Rose is into everything--houseplants and dirt and toilets and garbage, making her one of the worst free-range pets in the history of all pets.
Mr. D and I have had a few skirmishes. Nothing major, just sniping at each other about politics and youth sports and how we should spend our limited free time. In so many ways these are glory years, three kids who are pretty responsible and easy to raise, no health concerns, some money in the bank and gainful employment that makes us both feel useful. We shouldn't bicker, instead I need to stop and be grateful for the good stuff and shut up about the rest.
I'll end with a few more things that spring to mind:
Mr. G's fantastic fourth grade teacher
a friend's child healing after a horrible accident
Saturday morning yoga
a 3-day weekend coming up
Mr. T getting within shouting distance of his Eagle Scout award
good friends who say the right things and make me laugh and feel accepted
Spill it, reader. What's stretching you lately?