Juggling

I just finished my first week of student teaching.  It was pretty much the bomb.com.  Initially, I was terrified to teach or even ever be in a town as small as this one.   There are eighty-six students who attend this school.  A public school.  In America.  Ummm...where they do that at? (In my ghetto voice)  On my first day a little girl says to me, "You're our new teacher and your a black person!  I've never seen a black person."  Another student says, "Yes you have.  On T.V."  Just a little taste of how rural this rural area is.  It was quite the adjustment going from being home all day to getting up at the butt crack of dawn to get to school on time.  It's not like I just lounged around all day at home but dealing with other peoples' runts are more tiring and not nearly as satisfying as waiting hand and foot on my own little one.

So, I wake up between 5:30am and 6:30am (depending on how the night went with Tsoli bug) and get ready for the day.  This includes pumping milk for the baby and getting dressed and making some kind of breakfast and some kind of lunch for myself.  I drive thirty minutes to school after coordinating who is dropping off and picking up the baby.  The school day is pretty lackluster at this point with doing more observing than anything else but I will start teaching math and doing calendar to ease in to teaching the whole day.  Then, I drive back to pick up Tsoli.  Now, picking up the child is quite the task.  I walk in the school with a car seat and car keys in hand.  I have to take my shoes off at the door of the classroom.  No big deal.  When I get in the classroom, I'm handed Tsoli, her bottle that she is eating at that time (she's always eating when I get there), all the bottles from the day, a blanket, and her daily log. After all this is arranged in my hands in a way that is almost possible for me to carry, I have to put my shoes on outside the door.  So,  I have to put all the stuff back down to get my shoes back on then pick up all the stuff a second time in a way that is coordinated enough to make sure I don't drop anything.  Pretty serious process.

We get home.  I take the baby out of the car and grab what I can making sure I still have a hand to unlock the front door.  Play with Tsoli.  Feed Tsoli.  Put Tsoli down for a nap.  Wash dishes. Make dinner.  Wash more dishes.  Baby's up.  Eat dinner with baby in my arms.  Feed baby.  Play with child.  Clean child for bed.  Get child in a bed sleeping.  Who cares which one?  Not me.  And all the while spend time with my husband (who I appreciate and helps a lot) AND work on stuff for school.

  I love my life!  Seriously, I do.  I've never felt more purpose than I do now.