BALD AT 24.

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*not my picture
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I don't have kids...technically.

Figuratively speaking, however, I have

22 eight-year-olds of my very own.

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I love them to pieces.

This does not mean that they don't, very often,

drive me completely zany.

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I have:
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my incessant shouter

my continuous supplier of interesting facts (guess what!)

my story teller (often untrue)

my daily homework forgetter

my "my dog chewed-up my homework" excuse teller

{no joke. she's probably used this excuse 3 times now.}

my perfectionist

my slowpoke

my complainer

my crier

my competitive twin brothers

my frequent pee-er

my nose picker--okay, make that plural
my slurpy sniffler

my obsessive song singer

my daydreamer

my can't-sit-still-to-save-his-life-er

my pencil tapper

my mini socialite

my forgot-to-take-her-medication-today-er

my interrupter

my complete slob

my drama queen

my karate-chop kid

my bossy project manager

and my little tattle tale

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I often hear of mothers who get sick of hearing:

"mom?"

Mom?

"Mother?"

"Mommy?

"MOOOMMMM?!"

all day long.

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Imagine the insanity of hearing:

"Mrs. Ashmore?!"

Mrs. Ashmore?

Mrs. Ashmore??

from 22 kids at once, for eight hours straight.

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I may have more than once declared:

"WE ARE NOW GOING TO HAVE A MOMENT OF SILENCE IN HONOR OF MY SANITY!"

(The kids then giggle silently and watch the clock...while I gather my wits.)

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Or:

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"If ONE MORE STUDENT calls my name without raising their hand, I am going to go insane, rip out all of my hair, and you will have to live with a BALD teacher for the rest of the year!"

(The kids laugh at my silliness, but oh-so-importantly, remember to raise their hand to get my attention.)

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I, also, often hear of parents who love to watch their child sleep peacefully after spending a noisy, chaotic day chasing after them. As a third grade teacher, this sacred time for me is silent reading time. I LOVE Silent Reading Time. The plan is to use this time to catch up on the million and a half things that always have to get done (grading, planning, filing, straightening, creating, e-mailing, copying, etc.) while they are engrossed at their desks.

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I've found myself, on more than one occasion, however,

simply sitting...and observing...my little ones read.

They are so entertaining to watch!

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Reading something intense?

Their brows furrow in earnestness.

Reading something funny?

Their faces break into an involuntary grin.

How about something surprising?

I've seen eyes widen and mouths drop in astonishment.
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The warmth in my heart that these few minutes affords, reinvigorates my drooping levels of energy, patience, and joy in the chaos. The fifteenth and sixteenth fact about deep sea creatures? Asking them, yet again, to wait their turn and refrain from interrupting? The third nose picker this morning, I'll send to the sink to wash his hands?BRING IT ON. It is really, all just so much fun. I've just been reminded why I love this job. Maybe, I'll get to keep this hair of mine, after all.

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