well, it's official--i've moved out. mike and i nearly emptied out my bedroom at my mom's house last weekend and moved everything over here. it was exhausting, much more so than i anticipated considering i really didn't bring that much. it feels really great to finally be settled. moving all my clothes was actually the worst part, yet i continue to shop anyway. i guess the extremely heavy and awkwardly stuffed garbage bags didn't leave that much of an impression.
it's weird the things that bring me comfort now that i'm in my own place. i actually
like dustbusting the floors, washing towels, and loading up the dishwasher. it's really strange, i know. keeping the place tidy brings me a certain sense of peace and joy, i think because i take pride in being organized. that, and because i'm anal retentive. i can only imagine how i will be once we actually move into a house and have more space to fill.
it's nice being completely and utterly responsible for myself. not that i hadn't had the freedom and independance i needed prior to this, but this is just a more concrete feeling. i've been so busy thinking about getting everything together, that i haven't had much energy to think about how much i'll miss my mom and alexandra. it's difficult to leave them at this time in our lives and i know there is a great deal of emotion involved for everyone. yes, i know most of you went through all this much earlier than me, but everyone has their time when they leave the nest. mine just happened to be a bit later and honestly, i wouldn't have had it any other way. the relationship i've developed with my mom over the years is invaluable, and i know that living with her for so long is the reason. i've been home to see everything.
i'm completely exhausted at the moment. school has been a bitch this week for some reason and the kids have been pretty unruly. they tend to drain all of my energy by the end of the week and i need the weekend to recharge. before i started this job, i underestimated the amount of enthusiasm and mental dexterity i would need to work with small children. sometimes, i step back and look at all of them in front of me and i'm just overwhelmed at the whole scene, at the unlimited possibilities. there is so much that could go wrong. someone could smack or stab someone else at any moment. something might spill. the toilet might overflow. everyone is talking excitedly; i hear small bits of conversation and high-pitched squeals that combined, create this amazing crescendo of kid-noise. there is constant movement, constant stimulation, and my eyes are darting everywhere looking for what needs to be done and trying to prevent things that shouldn't happen. there is continuous reprimanding--usually to the point where you sound like the most broken record of all time. there are certain names that you find yourself repeating over and over ad nauseum because they simply won't listen. you're tuned out, adored, admired, disrespected, and physically pulled in more directions than you ever thought possible in one day. and ALL of it is worth it. because when you have a child approach you wide-eyed, proudly showing off a picture of some horse-like creature they've drawn, or telling you about how over the weekend they climbed to the top of some very tall building they can't remember the name of (counting 276 steps all the way up!), you realize that it's such a priveledge to teach them. your influence over them is astounding and their need to make you proud is incredibly sweet. i'd be lying if i said i didn't get frustrated; there are some days i think i'm not enjoying it enough because i'm too busy being annoyed by the little things. but overall, when i reflect on it, i really love being in the classroom and, most of all, talking with children. i find their point-of-view on life more interesting than most adults i know.
but they do wear me out. that's for damn sure.
after therapy i am buzzing. buzzing with ideas of what i want to say to everyone, that i was only just able to say to one person. she pulls things out of me like the slow pulling of taffy and i like myself better after the door closes and i've said goodbye. i look forward to it. it's cleansing--much like a hot shower is after an intense workout. i've pulled apart my head and opened up my heart to someone who described her role in my life as "a black hole", being that she absorbs whatever white light i choose to give her, but dispenses nothing in return. it's really about me finding my own answers, her leading me to them in a sense, but ultimately me circling around until i'm standing a bit more certain in the place i was before. everything about it, i like. i feel it's something i'm doing FOR myself and only myself and in that i take pleasure. the bettering of my spirit--my
self--is really important to me.
tangled up right now, trying to process all that i've learned today and all that i will learn tomorrow. an attempt to be less vague would be futile. i don't know how to clarify my thoughts, i only know that i am feeling them. i am in the center looking at everything swirling, moving in all speeds around me, and i'm thinking about it all...wondering just exactly how it has begun to affect me.
it's 11pm on a sunday night and i'm not in bed. i took tomorrow off in honor of my birthday (which is actually on wednesday) because montessori is paying me to. i fully support employers who give you a day off simply for being born. one of the perks of being a teacher, i suppose.
browsing through myspace blogs, as usual. i feel really distant from john these days and the more i think about it, the more it irks me. writing about it here surely won't help to remedy my feelings of discontent, but i feel the need to get it out. i'm sure our lack of communication is nothing more than just a temporary lapse in connection, but i just hate feeling divided. and i wonder how much time can go by before we start wondering if we can relate to each other anymore. what i hate most is that when we do talk, it's mostly catch up, filling each other in on the general details of things, rather than exploring what is really underneath the surface. we seem to be growing and exploring in different directions. and that's fine. i just worry sometimes that i'm losing touch with something. i wonder if he feels the same.
john, if you're reading this, call me. or maybe i'll just call you first.
