I am going to take some time out tonight and work on some scrapbooking. The realisation that the dream is over and that I have to go back to work has hit hard. About a dozen times a day I think "Oh, I'll do that next year" and then realise that "next year" will be spent in the classroom, writing the date on the board, reminding about whole body listening, "thank you for sharing your news with us", "thank you for telling me", "thank you for walking in the classroom", cleaning up after painting, trying to think of something original (and honest) to write on *that* kid's report, reminding about capital letters and full stops, enduring playground duty, trying to remember to take my lunch to school, trying to remember that a cup of coffee and a fundraising Freddo Frog does not an adequate lunch make, not losing the roll, remembering to write up all the partial absences, remembering to file all the absentee notes, remembering to send home all the reminders for absentee notes that I haven't got yet, placating parents whose child has lost thier jumper and of course I know where it is??? Spare me.
Next year was going to be a gym membership, attending Ladybaby's assemblies when she gets supervisor's awards, being at Chickabid's assemblies when he gets supervisor's awards, being there for open day and grandparents day and sports day and all the other days. Next year was going to be Bible College (external) and Flylady and calm and peace and routine. Next year is going to be none of those things.
OK, when Mister Bear goes back to work there will be no shortage of money. We'll be able to pay socking amounts off the mortgage and move to somewhere that looks like this, but that won't make up for all the stuff that the kids will miss. And that I'll miss. That the family will miss.
I need a little time out this weekend to help process all the chnages that have happened. This was so not in the plan, but I guess your only choice is to play the cards you're dealt and those are the cards in my lot.
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