September is a bittersweet time for me: not only do I send my kids off to school, but I also send myself off to work. I bid farewell to my short-lived months as a SAHM and head back to the classroom, where a fresh batch of students awaits me.
At the end of every summer, steeped in everything us moms do to manage our families, I wonder, with much anxiety: How am I going to do all this AND work 40 plus hours per week? And then I gently remind myself, I’ve been at this for the past 10 years. I can do it.
The smell of fresh crayons still sends me in a tizzy and I adore shopping for school supplies for my kids and my classroom. September is when I draw up my goals for the year, when I revamp my wardrobe, when I clear the clutter in my life – September is my “new year”.
I love the quiet calm of late August, when I take a moment to prep my classroom. Before I know it, dozens of high-school students will be rushing in, (hopefully) ready to learn. I’ve been at this for far too long to suffer any first day jitters, and I’m pretty good at maintaining that strict teacher façade – for the first few weeks – then it crumbles away and I’m once again “Mrs. B.”
I always remind myself that the quiet student in the corner might one day be protecting our nation as a soldier, that the chatty girl doodling in her notebook might be the doctor that delivers my first grandchild, that the teenage angst ridden boy with the
