8 November 2008
I really hate teaching art. As a child I always dreaded the Friday afternoons spent painting, gluing, and crafting. I hated getting my hands dirty, splattering paint on myself and I really resented that I could never, ever make my project look like everyone else's.
As a grade one teacher I do a lot of art projects. This week we tackled poppies. My school is having a pretty huge assembly on Tuesday and apparently distinguished guests and media are going to be present. The primary wing of my school has been abuzz with activity all week. All of the grade one classes have been making tissue paper poppies -- basically they had to cut out a poppy template and then they had to fill the paper with red and black tissue paper balls. My class loves doing this type of art. We did pumpkins in the same style as well, but I left that for a supply teacher (I know, I'm evil!!!).
I always save art for the afternoon since the mornings seems to fly by, but by doing this I also save my most dreaded subject for the time of day where I have little patience. Yesterday, after a long week of fighting a cold and trying not to kill my teaching partner, I felt my patience reserve run out. I try very, very hard not to raise my voice at my class. I don't like yelling, I don't like hearing other people yelling, and I especially dislike people yelling at young children.
I have one student who has a really hard time with authority. She attended a Montessori school for junior and senior kindergarten and apparently had free reign to do whatever she wanted. So when she arrived in my conventional classroom where she had to sit in a circle and sit at a desk, she had a very hard time. Well yesterday afternoon little A started throwing rulers at her group members and when she was caught red-handed, she started to argue with me. When the look of death didn't work I ended up raising my voice, and I saw fear in her eyes.
Then I felt very guilty.
How can I even think of being a mom to my own kids (who no doubt will be just as willful) when I can't be patient with the children of others? What am I going to do when my child openly disobeys me?
A's mom looked completely exasperated when I told her about her antics at the end of the day. Lucky for me, her mother is completely aware of what her daughter is capable of and she isn't the type of mother that blames the teacher. Thank God I haven't encountered parents like that, yet.
I told my incredibly fertile best friend that I was thinking more and more about adoption and that biological children aren't the priority they used to be. Do I actually believe what I said, or was I just trying to help her feel less guilty about being able to get pregnant at the drop of a hat? Or was I just steeling myself for yet another month of disappointments?
I made a decision (yet to be shared with Mr. JB) that I'm giving my body until April 2009. It will be one year that we've been with our NaproTechnology doctor. I'm definitely tired of the drugs, doctors and charting. So often my body has felt like it doesn't even belong to me, and for my sanity that feeling has to stop.
Is this deadline the end of hope for me? I don't think so. But if I keep running around and around in this hamster wheel more than my patience will give. I'm sure of it.