Wednesday, 19 September 2012

The Working Mom

Today was a monumental day in my life.  After much consideration, soul searching, a visit with my former students hair pulling, distress and ice wine, I made a decision to go back to work in my profession.  As a teacher.

Well, as a substitute teacher.  For now.  Until iBean is in school.  This way, I can get out of the crazy house and walk into a building as a professional.  And get PAID.  Cha-ching!  Granted, teaching is not really where the big bucks are.  If I really wanted to make all the money, I would be pole dancing or backhoe operating.  Seeing how I am not so interested in those, although, I have to admit, backhoe operating would make me some sort of superhero wonder woman in iBean's eyes, I chose subbing.  I figured, show up, follow someone else's plans, keep the kids from burning down the school, get paid.
Turns out, it's not quite so easy.

Well, it IS easy to keep the kids from burning down the school.  Especially since there are no lighters or flammables in their cubbies.

Following someone else's well-laid plans?  Also easy. And kinda fun.  During the teacher's prep time, I managed to staple my thumb to a bulletin board, break one of the secretary's pens while trying to fix the offending stapler, jam a photocopier, then UNjam said photocopier with my mad skillz. That photocopier is now my bitch.

What was hard?

Having my own kid in the school.
Scratch that.  School-Sashimi, whom I had the absolute pleasure of teaching today, is a complete darling.  He is curteous, respectful, good natured, and everyone's friend.  I was very glad to spend the day with this little boy whom all the teachers have raved to me about.

What was ACTUALLY hard?

Going to meet the kids coming in from recess only to have one of Sashimi's classmates run toward the door yelling "Sashimi's bleeding all over the place!"

And then I heard him wailing.  With blood pulsing from his head and nose, covering his glasses.  The TA that was with me covered for me while I took him to the office and got help with first aid supplies.  He had his hoodie on backward, which I found odd, but since the hood was catching all the blood, I figured it was meant to be.  As it turned out, one of his good friends invented a game where he put Sashimi's hoodie on backward, then covered his face with his hood and led him around outside.  Into a brick wall.*  At forehead breaking speeds.  But honestly, what the HELL was I supposed to do?  I knew I had to take care of my kid.  Which would probably involve a trip to the ER. But I was supposed to be teaching! ACK! But he was crying and clutching my arm! "MOMMY DON'T LEAVE ME!"  But I was getting PAID to teach!

So I did what any working mom would do.  I called the husband:
T: Serious? Like how bad is it?
Me: Bad enough that I have blood all down my elbow. 
T: F*$! What I am supposed to do with Keesadilla and iBean?
Me: Take them with you, I guess.  I dunno.  Or you could wait until Jocelyn gets there to babysit and come pick Sashimi up.
T: I have a meeting at noon, though...
Me: I'm teaching all day...

Dun Dun DUNNNNN.  The "whose job is more important" standoff.  On my first day back.  Honestly, my job is TOTALLY more important (I mean, jeez, I mould the future of our society), but he makes more money with which to buy ice wine, so...

At this point, another teacher offered to cover for me so that I could drive Sashimi to Tony, then as soon as Jocelyn, my best friend/babysitter/doing-me-a-big-favour-in-the-hopes-of-scoring-some-ice-wine got there Tony and Sashimi could take off.  It is about 25 minutes round trip, not too long. I even met Jocelyn's car as I was pulling out of our subdivision, so she was only minutes away anyway.

I went back to work thinking HOW DO WORKING MOTHERS DO THIS EVERYDAY?!

I pulled off the rest of the day with minimal glitches.  Grabbed a couple of wrong keys, scrolled through my iPod music several times trying to determine which music was actually appropriate for grade 5 and 6 students in the gym (turns out, very little), read a book about why you shouldn't pick your nose, you know, standard elementary stuff. Sashimi made it back to school about an hour or so later with a crazy-glued forehead covered in bandages. He was all smiles, which alleviated my guilt for calling in the husband reinforcements.  Tony made it to work mildly late.  One less bottle of ice wine for me, I guess.

So, to sum it all up, it was a crazy way to get reacquainted with the workforce.  I would not recommend it.  The teaching part, super.  The blood part, not so super.  it was so NOT super it was RUSEP.  That's right.  I went there.


*the wall part was an accident.  Poor kid felt so bad for hurting Sashimi, he cried and said he would never play that game again. Captain Obvious saves the day!
**Good thing for that hoodie, offering a minute cushioning between Sashimi's face and the wall.  It could have been so much worse.
***But then, if he had not been wearing the hoodie, he would not have crashed into the brick wall in the first place. So DAMN THAT HOODIE.

1 comment:

  1. Uncle Leigh says (about slightly larger, unstitched scars): It's ok. Bitches LOVE scars.


Thoughts? Comments? Questions?