Headed back to the trenches.

Today Hubby and I visited the schools where we will be teaching in the fall. In an odd twist, he will be teaching English at my old school, the place I was working while pregnant with Girl Terror. I loved that school. Great administration, wonderful staff, and gorgeous building. He's a lucky man. I will be teaching English at his old school, where he worked before the first Terror came along. I will even be in his old classroom! It's a nice school, too, but not as comfortable or familiar for me.
As I walked around with the principal, chatting with other teachers, I started to feel excited. I checked out my room, and I could totally envision my books on the shelves, my mug on the desk, and my writing on the board. I got my schedule, and immediately I wanted to track down my mentor in the school to see what goodies she could give me to use. I felt the tingle, right down to my toes.
I'm ready. I love teaching. Yes, there are days when I really just want to rip my hair out. The parents get on my last nerve. There is at least one student in every group whose purpose in life is to give me a stroke. Staff meetings can be long, tedious, and full of pompous assholes, talking themselves to death. But... in every class, there is at least one student who stands out. One year, it was the red-haired boy whose mother didn't want him to be a writer, and so he wrote page after page for every assignment I gave. He was brilliant. When I showed his mother his marks for the term, she sniffed and said "You must be a really soft touch." Another year, it was the girl in the front row, who valued her individuality and had a self-confidence that grade 9's rarely show. She did very well, and she was proud of it. She always choose the more difficult assignment if given a choice, just for the challenge. One of my favourite students of all time refused to be quiet in class, ever. She just bubbled over with life. She meant no disrespect, she simply wanted to talk, to visit, and to get to know everyone, including the teacher. She cried when another student talked about a suicidal family member. She jumped out of her seat one day when she saw my belly, swollen huge with Girl Terror, contorting as the baby did gymnastics.
I know it will be hard to leave the Terrors all day. I realize that I've had it so lucky, these 4 years at home. But today I felt that tingle, and a part of my brain that had been on hiatus tuned back in. September is coming, and I can hardly wait.