Tuesday, January 05, 2016

Happy New Year!

Can you believe it's been over TEN years since I started writing on this thing?

Gracious.

Teenagers and school and extra-curricular activities didn't even seem possible then.    How did this happen so fast?

I miss all my blogging friends, logging in every day to see what everyone was doing.    Watching their children grow.   I am glad to see most of them still on FB but it isn't quite the same.  I can't speak freely there as someone's sole job at our school is to monitor all of our social media.   I guess this counts as that, but I don't get much traffic anymore so I am doubting anyone there knows I am out here in the spider-web, dusty world that is my formerly beloved blog.

I say every year I am going to blog more but life gets in the way.   Up at 6, out the door by 7:30 (hopefully), five hours working non-stop, two more hours catching up on every other little thing before the children come home and the three hours of homework, making dinner, cleaning it all up and starting it all over again.   Whew.   I did not know how well I had it ten years ago.  

I love my job.   That has been established.   I have grown so much more frustrated with it lately.   Changes are coming there and I think I have decided not to follow them on their new journey.   It makes me very sad.   I have the opportunity to move up yet again with three of my students I have this year and had last year.    I want to do that.    Their parents want me to do that.   My boss wants me to do that.    That, though, will be five days a week due to the aforementioned changes.    I just do not think I can work five days a week and still have any amount of energy to give back to my own family.   Yeah, yeah, it's only half a day they say but if you've been a teacher, you know once you are there, you are pretty much there all day.   It would be the best job for me minus the pay and the time commitment.

Oh well.   I still have a couple months before I "decide".

Anyway,  since I can't complain on FB……

Am I being a huge southern prude by expecting a thank you note from my children's teachers for the Christmas gifts I purchased for them?

I buy fantastic gifts for my kid's teachers even the ones I do not really care for (stay tuned).    I have had to garage sale so many coffee mugs, coasters, and dried flower arrangements, not that I didn't enjoy them but, well, you can only have so many.  

*FYI……gift cards are good.*

So, I spent $30 on each of Adam's three teachers, Elizabeth's teacher, Elizabeth's French teacher, Elizabeth's art teacher, Adam's three band teachers, both kid's three gym teachers, and $10 Starbucks cards for each of the nurses.  Then there is Jacob…..$70 bucks for $10 gift cards for seven teachers.

I'll wait while you do the math.    *playing the Jeopardy theme*

$450

That is more than a month's pay for me.

I had a friend who makes custom jewelry do something suited to each person based on the likes sheet that was sent home to all of us at the beginning of the year (except for the gift card teachers)

Only Elizabeth's teacher sent me a thank you note.    Mailed it to me over break actually.   The nurses told me thank you, one of Adam's teachers stopped to say she thought her necklace was beautiful.   Jacob's Engineering teacher shot me an email full of gratitude as soon as he received it.  Elizabeth's art teacher had surgery during Christmas week so she gets a pass.  Crickets from the rest.    Every one of them has my email address.   They have each used it this year.  Shoot, each one of them sees at least one of my kids at least twice a week.

$450

I know I should give just to feel good about the giving and I did as I was buying them.   I hope they all enjoyed what I picked out for them but what happened to just being grateful?  

For the record, I hand wrote all 11 of the kids who gave me a gift a note last night while waiting in the cold car during football practice.    I just felt like it was the right thing to do.  

Man, it feels good to complain online again.   I should do this more often.

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