my crazy

I don’t know why the things that stress me out are so stressful. Everyday things that don’t bother most people send me right over the edge. And I can’t explain to you why. I’ve only recently been able to express that they do put a strain on me. It was so hard for the last 40 years to admit that the idea of bringing my car in for service or planning an event for someone or making particular phone calls  inspired days of hand-wringing anxiety.

Perhaps I can’t tell you why because there is no good reason. What I have been coming to grips with is that there doesn’t have to be a good reason. I feel the anxiety and I have to work through it.And sometimes, I just can’t. The anxiety exists, good reason or not.

The stress of driving a car that should have work done is somehow less than making

arrangements to have the work done. It doesn’t make sense. But does anxiety have to be somehow justified?

Doesn’t that, then, make it something other than anxiety?

And, what people don’t understand is that I can thrive in certain stressful situations and still falter in these mundane ones.

I go to a stressful job every day, often with a positive sense of anticipation. I prepare by reading, talking, assessing student work, and writing lesson plans, but I know going in that nothing will ever completely match my plan. I try to anticipate who will struggle with a certain concept or activity, I plan alternatives and “what ifs”, and still have to think on my feet to address my students’ needs in the moment. Several researchers have talked about the stress in professions where we have to make hundreds of little decisions every day, constantly assessing, choosing, and then reassessing.

But, that I am able to work in this stressful environment and make decisions doesn’t make buying, or not buying, Christmas presents any easier (Should I buy for this person? Oh no, how did I forget to buy for them? Will they like it? I’m not going to give it to them, they won’t like it. Am I overstepping my bounds? Did I misread the signals? I hate Christmas.)

But someone loves my crazy.

I know that loves comes with its own frustrations, and I won’t lie to myself that it’s easy living with me. Nor do I think that it gets me off the hook to try to work through my anxiety and participate as much as I can in our life of servicing cars and planning parties.

But it feels good to be accepted, warts and all.

Snow Day

On a normal day, the students would be filing off buses about now.

But today is not a normal day.

Today is one of those joyful treats of being a teacher.

Today is a snow day.

It's the 6th snow day of the year. Of course, the first two days off had nothing to do with snow but were the result of dangerous winds in October that knocked power out for most of our schools and for most of our families and staff as well. We just don't have anything else to call them. Severe weather days? Unexpected-stay-in-your-pajamas days?

I know the argument against snow days. It means we'll stay in school until the end of June. True. Because of today's call, our last day of school has been bumped to June 20. And we haven't even entered February, traditionally the snowiest month in New England. But our contract states that we can't stay in school past June 30th, so I can still make summer vacation plans. (Family trip to Spain, hopefully.)

I was at class last night, a class for teachers who want to become specialists in reading, and we were all talking about the coming storm. "Has your district called it yet?" Everyone of us was talking about it, though some with dread.

"I just hope they call it in time so I can turn off my alarm and sleep in." said one young teacher who clearly didn't have children at home who would wake up anyway. "Oh, I want to get up. I hate to miss any of my snow day." I answered. That earned me some odd looks. That's OK, I'm used to odd looks.

But I know I'm not alone. A snow day is a special gift that I do not want to squander. Sure, I stay in my pajamas well into the day, sometimes even ALL day. For me, a snow day is an opportunity to read, to write, to make plans for that lesson I wasn't sure how to figure out, to read student work, to look at the big picture of the upcoming unit and get a clear idea of where I want students to end up. A snow day means listening to the radio longer, putting on a second pot of coffee, cleaning out a drawer or a closet that I've been meaning to get to. On snow days I put the kettle on after shaking the snow off when I come in from shoveling so we can all have hot chocolate. I eat a hot lunch, a rare luxury on a school day.

It's time for school to start and on a normal day I would have rushed through getting showered and dressed, making my lunch, helping my teenager get to the bus stop on time, packing my bag and making sure my coffee thermos was filled. Instead, I have read a chapter for my class, written a review on my 4th grade website for a book I just finished (and started a new book), put a load of clothes into the washing machine, celebrated the day off with my teenager (who just now got out of bed), and started the assignment due for my next class.
Oh, and put on a second pot of coffee.

Happy snow day everyone.