Not ready. Not one bit.

Today we are back in business.
Pencils are sharpened.
Paper and dividers are crisp and new.
New books.
New curricula.
Schedule is written and ready to be followed.

This morning I was ready.
Ready for a great day filled with smiles.
Ready to teach.
Ready to learn.
I was ready.

Then the day began.
Sweet Moses…I was W-R-O-N-G.
I don’t mean wrong like 2 + 2 = 5 wrong…
I mean wrong like oops-operated-on-the-wrong-person-and-took-out-an-organ sort of wrong.
So. badly. wrong.
By mid-morning my mind was screaming….NOT READY!!

I had two children grounded. Two screeching on the back porch. And two insisting that they should have been allowed to graduate from school LAST year.

Today did not go as nicely as I planned in my head.

I really was going to have a good day. In my mind I fantasized about making happy school memories. I lied to myself. Our first days of full-on school schedule rarely go as planned. And rarely go down quietly. The sheer noise is unthinkable. How can these people make so much noise? If I hear one more squeak, squeal, whine, scream or fart-followed-by-giggle noises I will consider pulling my eardrums out as a plausible, even appealing, option.

My two grounded kids are grounded for repeatedly, over-and-over, again-and-again sticking erasers up their nostrils and blowing them out at one another. Quit laughing.
I just knew I was going to be the mom at the ER getting erasers removed from sinus cavities.

After much wailing, pouting, and crying the three youngest children are finally in bed almost an hour later than our schedule dictates. My three older kids are still up doing school. One of them is crying about three history questions that he does not want to answer on paper. The assignment says: “Answer the following questions on your own paper. Please use complete sentences.” He knows the answers. He just will not write them down. One child is hysterical about spelling. And one has been upstairs for a suspiciously long time considering he went up there to brush his teeth.

My schedule is ruined.

The funny thing about today is I like schedules. I like the up-at-6-to-bed-at-9ish schedule. I relish the routine. For some reason, over the summer, when we sleep a little later, and stay up a little later, I forget how hard returning to routine can be. I also forget how close to the brink of insanity one woman can get.

Today.
So, today I am wishing for public school, filled with teachers that are not me.
I am wishing that I remembered transition never goes smoothly around here. I am wishing my expectations for today were lower and my patience was much, much, greater.

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, we will try again.
Tomorrow holds the hope for less nostril projectiles, less screaming, less grounding, and more productivity…Tomorrow holds promise.
I can hardly wait.