Today I was an awful teacher.
I yelled at students and I gave a pop quiz simply because there was no possible way to interact with that particular class without going to jail. I promised to return papers, that I didn’t, because I hadn’t marked them. I rolled my eyes at my 10th graders who didn’t remember the French for ‘and’. “AND”!!!!!!!!
I sneered, I sighed with the gusto of a harangued hurricane and I slunk my way around corners to avoid That Perky Student who’d probably want ANOTHER hug. (Seriously, I have found myself saying “IT IS NOT!” just to contradict her impossibly bright “good morning, Misssssss!”)
If I were to look at it from an administrative standpoint, and also just a basic human being one, I’d say that today was a categorical fail in the whole Good Teacher sweepstakes.
Like I said. I was an awful teacher. I couldn’t WAIT to leave the school and just get home to the warmth and joy of my family.
Then I got home.
And I was an awful mom.
I didn’t get up and play planes with my 3 year old , and for some reason, my teething 10 month old’s drool was particularly aggravating running down my arm. My firstborn’s heartbreak at the end of a spontaneous play date only annoyed me and my rather patronizing ‘there, there’ could barely be heard over my rolling eyes and irritated swiping of saliva from my body. Dinner relied largely on the health factor of milk. I spent a lot of the ‘Shhh, Mommy is working” time browsing blog designs. Only to end up keeping this one. Because of course it was simply an extension of today’s theme: I am awful.
And perhaps in another life, that would have defined me and pursued me into dreams where everyone hates me and I die alone. But today I realised, that also: I am awesome.
My students will speak French one day. They will NEVER again forget how to say “and”. That pop quiz put a must-study fire under their ‘2 weeks from finals’ butts. And that’s just today. On other days, when I’m not busy being awful/awesome, I’m just awesome. My students are learning. And they’re liking their foreign language courses more than they’d ever dreamed possible. I listen to their problems, straddling the fine line of support and slap-in-face (figuratively, of course). And, if absolutely cornered with no escape, I give rapid, flutter-finger back pats and hugs. WHAT’S NOT TO LOVE????
And I love, love, love my babies. I have hundreds of posts demonstrating how very, very much being a mother is the centre of my being, and I don’t even feel a little bit pressured to defend that. I love being a mom, and I mostly rock at it. My high notes are only emphasized by the bass riffs of my epic fails.
I meant to have some super witty line here about unfinished books…writing own stories….word things… all tied into one strong closing but I’m tired, it’s time for some insulin and I could use a nice 7 hr nap, so lemme just jump to the close and say that I refuse to let bad days define my basic plot line anymore.
I think we do that too often. Let bad days tell us that that’s all we are. No one is (un)lucky enough to be all of everything all the time, ever. We’re all a little bit of a bunch of things and that’s okay. I can’t begin to tell you how many blog posts have sat in my drafts folders, withering away because I was too terrified to publish anything less than perfect, and with no time to develop perfect nothing happened.
I’m thankful for the day it hit me that everything is perfect/flawed. Every day is fabulous/fail. Everyone is awful/awesome.
And today, for some reason, it made me smile a lil bit.
Good night world.
Can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring.
(My vote is on some more of that yay/boo magic)