Every year I am amazed at how fast the year flies by me. I start every year saying, "There is no way I am going to make it the WHOLE year." Before you judge, let me explain to you why these words come out of my mouth. I become a caregiver to between 20-25 students every year. I am with them from 7:45 in the morning until 3:00 in the afternoon, 174 days for one year. I learn to tell by the look on their face or by the tone of their voice what emotion they are feeling, I give them funky nicknames, I go to their events outside of school, I have formed relationships and memories with these students, and I love them as if they were my own child. As a class, we become a family💗. When May rolls around, those students leave my classroom and I have an emptiness in me😢. Then comes August with a whole new group of students that are trying to fill the shoes of the ones that have left me. They don't know the rules, they are immature, I can't connect with them, and they are just not my angels from the year before. Amazingly, as the year goes by me, I start to make connections, I start to take their worries as my own, my family learns their names and we talk about them at the dinner table, they become a part of me, and they start to fill the emptiness that was left in me by the other class. In May they will leave me, and in August you can hear me saying, "There is no way I am going to make it the WHOLE year."
Well, tonight was the first night of Little League baseball practice. We had our first travel ball tournament last weekend in Arkansas. Baseball and I have a love/hate relationship. I love watching the game and Brody play it, and I love watching the game and hate watching Brody play it. The minute the game starts I get millions of butterflies in my stomach. This is his eighth year playing so you think it would be no big deal for me. When it comes to Brody and sports, I am a worrier. He can hold his own and stay right up there with the rest of his team but I always worry that he is going to get in a slump and everyone else will shoot way ahead of him in skill and ability. I have no idea why I feel this way. I can tell you that it is a miserable feeling. I would love to be able to go to the games, sit back and enjoy them, but instead I sit there and worry with millions of butterflies in my stomach. When the game is over, the butterflies are gone, I hug him...
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