I breezed in this morning to school this morning at 7 o’clock, which is quite late for me (normally 6.30ish), said ‘sawadee ka’ to the grounds staff and ‘good morning’ to all the teachers. I was almost bowled over as a small figure tackled me around the knees screaming ‘Miss Emz! Miss Emz!’. Bless the kindergarten kids and thanks for the wake-up call! ‘Oh, what a beautiful morning’ was my soundtrack for the start of my day.
My jolly mood lasted most of my working day. I had a free period at 7.30am (first period) and was very productive preparing a plan for the day as I did absolutely diddly squat during the holidays. Then I had back to back lessons with the 1st graders who told me delightful and exciting stories of visiting the Great Wall, helping soldiers provide relief for the flood victims, taking care of elephants, fighting through Japanese rush hours and travelling to Germany to visit relatives. A busy week was had by all.
So I was in high spirits until I rolled up to third grade, my last lesson of the day (I finish teaching at 12pm everyday- don’t be a hater ;-D). Forty-five minutes later I walked out with new wrinkles, a few grey hairs and a headache. It is amazing how the addition of one student can turn a pleasant, fun class into a living, breathing nightmare.
Sometimes I think being a teacher is helping to prepare me a little for motherhood. Not the scream filled, sleepless nights or exploding poopy diapers but I get lots of practice dealing with different children and different behavior issues and learning styles.
Other times teaching makes me wonder if having kids is such a great idea. Will I be able to deal with smug disrespect from a 7 year old? Non-stop, repetitive nagging from a 5 year old? Bad language and bouts of physical violence from a 9 year old? Or selective hearing and an inability to follow directions from a 4 year old?
I teach over 70 children and would be happy to raise most of them as my own. As a teacher I enjoy their quirks, their sense of humor and their personalities. Often the naughty ones are my secret favorites. But occasionally I meet a child with whom it is difficult to find a connection. I work extra hard to create a bond and a positive relationship but I can’t always manage it and it worries me. What if I don’t have any connection with my own kids? What if I see spending time with them as a chore rather than fun?
I have never heard or read about this happening (with the exception of ‘We need to talk about Kevin’ but that’s fiction and a whole new kettle of fish). I do not find myself reassured by this though. Would parents share this if they were experiencing it? Unlikely, I’d say.
Also when I leave work, frazzled and furious or happy and loving life, I get to go home to my quiet, child-free house. Am I ready to be going home to more kids? I love my job (most of the time) but it’s quite reassuring to hand them back to their parents at the end of the day.
Did you have doubts like these before starting baby searching?