Frustration levels on the rise.

Results of my preliminary research are indicating that 7^th grade boys and a completely different species from me. My 8^th graders I can, for the most part, understand and empathize with. But some of those 7^th grade boys have even larger holes in the chemical structure of their brains than my 8^th grade ones do, and I’ve been laughing at my 8^th graders for years. Some of the 7^th grade boys seem to have this idea that if I’m not actively telling them to be quiet, they don’t need to be quiet. If I haven’t told them not to hit each other or steal each other’s stuff in the last five minutes, it must be ok. I’ll tell them to stop talking, they’ll say, “Oh, sorry Miss Eddington!” Ten seconds later they’re talking again. I can’t just shoot them dirty looks to get them to stop being obnoxious (kicking each other, tapping their desks, headbanging, etc.) because they haven’t the slightest clue that what they’re doing might possibly be annoying! It hasn’t entered into their prepubescent head that they aren’t the only one in the classroom and that the Amazing Miss E might have limited patience with their antics.

They make my 8^th graders look, by contrast, so mature and dependable, so independent and reserved. Heaven bless my 8^th graders.

Clockwatching

Before any break in school such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, or summer, I usually hear at least two different teachers express the following sentiments: The students have no idea that their teachers are actually more anxious for the bell to ring and the break to begin than they are. I'm sure I'll hear the same thing at lunch today, when there is only one period left before Fall Break. At the risk of repeated these already oft expressed sentiments, I am even more excited than my students for the day to be over. I'm checking my watch every five minutes. I've under planned my lessons, as if by planning less things to do I can make class go faster, which is actually probably the opposite of how it works.

I don't have grand travel plans, or far away adventures planned. I do have a lot of grading to do. But I'm looking forward to four glorious days of freedom, where I am responsible only for me, and where I can go skate any time of the day. Maybe I'll cook. Maybe I'll play video games. Maybe I'll clean up my classroom. Maybe I'll just enjoy the fact that for a few days, school isn't ruling my life.

Hurry up Fall Break. Get here faster!

Getting back together with an Ex

We met in sixth grade, and at first I intended for us to be just friends. Instead, we went steady for seven years. Weekends and weeknights, long bus rides together, mornings and evenings. Sometimes I'd ignore him for a few days, but I'd always come back. I had more classes with him than anyone else. We stuck together through braces and every awkward phase I had throughout all of middle and high school. Then, after high school I left him in my hometown and moved on with my life. Oh, I'd still get out with him on the occasional summer vacation, but my life was given over to other loves. I hardly gave a thought to him, and when I did, it was with a sort of carefree nostalgia. I never really expected to return, although I regretted the loss of the relationship and closeness we once had.

But lately, after six years apart, he's been sneaking out of the corners of my thoughts. I'd be listening to a song, and suddenly I'd crave his unfailing company and all the adventures we once had together. As this happened more and more often, I began to wonder: Was it really to late? Getting our relationship back to where it was wouldn't be convenient or easy. It would take conscious effort and work. We weren't in school together anymore. I'd have to make consistent advances to get him back.

But finally, I could stand it no more. One of those songs that made my fingers tingle for him was playing on the radio, and I said out loud, "Dang it! Alright, I'm going to this for real!" I inwardly made the commitment as I picked up the phone and made the call I'd been contemplating for weeks. Instead of answer on the other end, I got voicemail. Plunging in, I spoke quickly, before I could change my mind.

"Mom?" I said, "Can you send my trombone back with Rachel when she's home this weekend? I want to start playing again!"

We're living together now. He's there when I go home, waiting in my living room. We've only managed to spend a stolen half hour together here and there, but already it feels so good to have him back. Like coming home. My steady. The boy I've kissed more than any other by far. Perceval. Percy for short. My trombone and my longest love.

Friday's Ramblings

What students may not realize is that their teachers are often more excited for the weekend than they are. All Friday long I’m jittery, and have a devil-may-care attitude about getting things done. I have all weekend to grade the huge stack of papers, why start now? Why bother telling the kids to be quite? If I can put up with it for another half hour I won’t see them again for days, and then it’s just three days of school till fall break! So all day long, despite the impressive to-do list in my head, I’ve been doing other things. Writing emails to old friends, writing a blog about avoiding work, etc. It’s great. I know I’ll probably spend most of tomorrow here anyway, so why work now?

It’s the same feeling I used to get when I knew I was going to be up late for an essay in college. Since I was going to be up half the night anyway, then I had all the time in the world. As soon as I accepted that bedtime was flexible and dependent on when the essay was finished, I had all night—an extra 8 hours—if I needed it. So I would go to the store, take a shower, reread all my research materials, rewrite my introduction five times, and then watch a few youtube videos. It wasn’t until about 2 a.m. that the sense of urgency would set in. I would realize that I was more than halfway through the night and less than halfway through my paper.

A similar feeling will creep up on me tomorrow afternoon. I’ll realize that I’m more than halfway through the weekend and less than halfway through my grading and already burnt out. I know this, I recognize this, I can predict this, but for some reason I’m still unable to bring myself to actually work on anything useful today. I am, and always have been, and mostly likely always will be, a serial procrastinator. I’ll procrastinate anything I don’t feel like doing, from grading papers to eating if I think it’s going to take work.

On an unrelated note, I just finished the Hunger Games trilogy. I liked it, and I’m glad I own it. But the main character reminded me of a less self-sacrificing, more trash-kickin’ kind of Bella Swan. Unsure why anyone would love her, tortured by her insecurities, and yet beloved by all and adored by both the handsome men, who are willing to put up with her inability to choose between them because they’re so in love with her. Now, in Katniss’ defense, unlike Bella, who started insecure and obtuse, Katniss starts out relatively happy and competent. Her life has been hard, but bearable. Then, life tortures her into a complete mess. I don’t blame her for being unable to make decisions and having destroyed self-confidence after that. So, in conclusion, I like Katniss better than Bella, and Gale and Peeta are both cooler than Edward and Jacob.

The end.