Here is a note I received from a parent this morning:
"Dear Miss Fuhrman,
Please heat up (let's call the kid "Jack") Jack's spaghetti at lunch and clean him up when he's done. There are wet wipes in his lunch box.
Thanks,
Jack's mom"
Yeah, that note achieves a new category. Here was my reply:
"Dear Jack's mom,
We heated it up today, but can't after today. We have 20 minutes or less to get 90 kids through the line and everyone eat and I need to eat as well. Please send something that can be eaten cold next time.
THanks for understanding.
Miss Fuhrman"
School Megan is back.
The most common thing I say these days is either: "please raise a silent hand" (school), "I love you but that's not okay" (school NOT Bob) , "I'll do that in my spare time" (school) or "I'll have to get back to you" (wedding)
I have 4 or 5 boys who feel like the equivalent of 5 kids each. Whew.
I have 8 kids with summer birthdays. Which usually means more immature behavior. Which usually means more work. Which sometimes means more reward and that good feeling in your heart.
On a good day I have 20 minutes for lunch.
No more leisurely mornings.
And my social life consists of staff meetings and phone calls to parents.
Bed time=not early enough
But I discovered something today. It's something I forget quite often. It seems I am under the impression that I have to appear "together" and always under control. Not so. My principal is wonderful and she taught me a life changing lesson that I know God has tried to get across to me countless times but I keep trying to do life on my own. (And I know I'll forget again by this time next week)
I was sitting in her office in tears (probably because a. it's the 5th day of school b. I'm expecting too much c. I have too much on my plate and I'm getting married in 38 days which brings it's own to-do list) and spilling things one at a time at her prodding. She's a funny lady. She asked me what I needed and I responded tearfully "I want a Coke but this school only has Pepsi dang it." I ran over to my teacher friend Champ's room and found a room temperature one in her cabinet. Iwent back to my room and my principal had a Route 44 Sonic coke for me. Amazing.
Her email to me this afternoon went something like "You're not in this alone Fuhrman." I need to be reminded amidst the craziness that I'm not alone.
I remember my dad saying to me on multiple occasions "meg, you're not wearing a super hero cape." True story. I'm not. And I can't fix everything. But gosh darn it if I won't try.
So anywho, I'm going back for more tomorrow. A weird part of me looks forward to it. And I hope that people see Jesus in me.
2 comments:
The story about the kid and the spaghetti is just unreal. It irks me when people expect those of us in the "service" industry to do all of their dirty work. Unreal. Also, I'm not drawing the connection between summer birthdays and more immature behavior. Is that just because they're younger than the other students?
word verification: mixtryp (like the kind of music you'd hear at a rave where people are thizzin', yo)
"Jack's mom" really needed that note I'd say... if you haven't lived in Kindergarten for awhile I'm sure it's hard to imagine our days! Summer birthdays in Kentucky = fall birthdays... our "cut off" is October 1, meaning there are 4 year olds in Kindergarten - CRAZY!
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