December 18, 2012

The past few school days have been flurries of activity [and flurries of snow, for that matter . . . 1st snowfall here yesterday!]. In part this hectic pace has been due to the fact that I simply have too much to do. But it is also, in part, a forced busy-ness, I think: the kind that comes when I am trying to squeeze every last ounce out of precious few moments left. And the kind that comes when I know that if I stop moving for a second, my emotions will begin to flow and I will be helpless in the face of my weepiness. So at least for workday purposes, the safest bet is to just barrel forward from one thing to the next.
This morning I snapped one quick, early morning shot of the fresh covering, then dashed on with the day.
Wearing a puffy red footie-pajama outfit while reading to 3 classes of the youngest ones? Check.
Explaining to one 1st grader, after spotting her lick her finger and smear the icing around on her cookie, that she could no longer give that particular cookie to the high schoolers, as they were supposed to be doing [a project of making cookies for the purpose of giving a gift and not eating it themselves]? Check.
Telling one group that they were not to throw snow up in the air because it got others wet. Then overhearing one explain to another that they were not allowed to throw it on others, only themselves. They proceeded to shower themselves, laughing gleefully in the process. Giving up on the idea of trying to keep them dry? Check.
Starting a snowball fight myself at the end of the day, when I was tired of trying to monitor snowball throws? Check.
Savoring the hugs instead of just perfunctorily giving them? Check.
Last night I made it through one book of goodbye letters. Today I have picked up the 6th grade book several times only to put it down again. I cannot, just now, afford the luxury of too much sentimentality. Maybe once my work is done here, and time is plentiful. But for now, there are classes to teach, children to hug, coworkers to talk to, holidays to prepare for . . .

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