I have exactly two weeks and one day until I step into a classroom. Whenever someone asks me about starting a new job I always, ALWAYS use the phrase, "I'm really excited" with some combination of smiling and nodding.
It never occurred to me until today that I'm a liar.
When I think about things like walking around a classroom full of working students while music plays in the background, or teaching two-point perspective for the first time - I'm genuinely excited.
But....
(and there's always a "but")
When I think about not being there to pick up or drop off my kids at preschool and Kindergarten I get an emotion that is so weird and so specific that the closest second I can think of is sadness. When I think about not being there when the school calls to pick someone up because of sickness or behavior (which happens in our house), it makes my stomach hurt. When I imagine someone else putting my youngest down for a nap and being there when he wakes up, my eyes well up tears that are laced with jealousy and guilt.
I am so weak.
I am excited, but today as I sat in orientation and counted down the days until school starts I wanted to lay my head on the table in front of me and let go into big pathetic sobs.
I know I can do this. I just have moments where I don't feel ready.
But......
(and remember how I always said there's a "but")
I am ready. When I look past the guilt and jealousy and sadness I can see that they are all artificial. I will miss my boys, but I will have more to give them in the times we are together.
I will miss naptime and carefree schedules, but we won't be stressed with the same financial difficulties we had before.
I will miss morning tantrums and afternoon meltdowns....oh wait, no I won't miss those at all.
(see, there are benefits)
So tonight I am going to dinner with my girlfriends and instead of mourning the summer that has passed, I'm going to choose to embrace the start of the school year that I get to help them conquer.
Today I am thankful for friends that can empathize with a soon-to-be full-time working mom.
Like everything else I've ever encountered in motherhood...it is not for the weak of heart.
It never occurred to me until today that I'm a liar.
When I think about things like walking around a classroom full of working students while music plays in the background, or teaching two-point perspective for the first time - I'm genuinely excited.
But....
(and there's always a "but")
When I think about not being there to pick up or drop off my kids at preschool and Kindergarten I get an emotion that is so weird and so specific that the closest second I can think of is sadness. When I think about not being there when the school calls to pick someone up because of sickness or behavior (which happens in our house), it makes my stomach hurt. When I imagine someone else putting my youngest down for a nap and being there when he wakes up, my eyes well up tears that are laced with jealousy and guilt.
I am so weak.
I am excited, but today as I sat in orientation and counted down the days until school starts I wanted to lay my head on the table in front of me and let go into big pathetic sobs.
I know I can do this. I just have moments where I don't feel ready.
But......
(and remember how I always said there's a "but")
I am ready. When I look past the guilt and jealousy and sadness I can see that they are all artificial. I will miss my boys, but I will have more to give them in the times we are together.
I will miss naptime and carefree schedules, but we won't be stressed with the same financial difficulties we had before.
I will miss morning tantrums and afternoon meltdowns....oh wait, no I won't miss those at all.
(see, there are benefits)
So tonight I am going to dinner with my girlfriends and instead of mourning the summer that has passed, I'm going to choose to embrace the start of the school year that I get to help them conquer.
Today I am thankful for friends that can empathize with a soon-to-be full-time working mom.
Like everything else I've ever encountered in motherhood...it is not for the weak of heart.
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