Rolling with the Punches

Last week was hard. 

See, last week we started our second semester of school. On a Thursday. 

We got our teaching schedules. On Wednesday. At 3 p.m.

Which means we (or, at least, ME) spent Monday and Tuesday wringing our hands in anxious anticipation. 

We knew that things would be different because the school officials were rearranging the primary and moving 6th grade to another campus. Instead of having 1-2, 3-4, and 5-6 grade buildings, they decided to make all three buildings grades 1-5. Which meant that all of our babies were going to be scattered. They were also rearranging the teachers, which meant we might be moved and might have different co-teachers. 

I was just crossing my fingers that my old classes, 12-19, would all be put in the same building together because their numbers were together, and that's logical, right?

On Wednesday, they handed us our schedules and we saw the first warning sign: all the classes had been renumbered. 

Then we toured the school buildings to decide who wanted to be in which building. 

That's when we saw that our classes had been all mixed up in different buildings and there was no way we could teach all the same students this semester. 

There were groans and misty eyes, but we put ourselves together, divvied out schedules, and spent the rest of the evening hastily patching together lessons for the next day. 

I was lucky and managed to get four of my old classes. I also got two of Alex's old classes and one of Jenessa's old first grade classes. 

First grade??? YIKES. 

I know that when I'm a big-girl teacher I'll have to get used to hellos and goodbyes with lots of students. I guess it's just hard to have to unexpectedly let go 140 little lives that I tried really hard to love and get to know regardless of our language barrier AND to want to put forth the effort to get to know 140 new little lives.

Of the 8 I had before, I managed to get my silly class, my "Miss Mommy" class, my eager-to-please class, and my "We hate your guts" class. My new classes have been accepting and eager to have me as a teacher. 

Which is great. Really.

Today I went to the other building's playground to visit two of my old classes. I was mobbed by my babies and loved. to. death. And I was reminded that they will not forget the Father's love that was bestowed on them last semester. By the time this year is over, they will have received that love from TWO teachers who know them personally and lift them up to the Father. 

Which is AMAZING.

Even if it means I have to teach a first grade class.