ASSuming...You Know The Rest

Apparently my last post was my hundredth. Seems like it may have needed some fanfare or something. I guess since I left for over a year and hopped back, most don't know to visit. So, I'll say a party would have been wasted energy.

But, wait, wasted energy...isn't that my specialty? I walk a fine line between being prepared and being neurotic, generally erring towards the latter. I'd say the greatest lesson I am learning from my children is to let go, assume the best, and hope for everything, because anything else is a waste.

Last night...case in point......

I want to digress before I tell the story and do a little qualification here. I promised myself that, in my return to my blog, that I'd be honest. This is my own journal and my relief valve. I am naturally concerned about stepping on toes and offending people, but I cannot allow that to harness me. If you read, read thoughtfully.

So, Ben and Alya chirped all Summer about how much they wanted this one particular teacher at school. A man. 4 first grade teachers, and they want the man. Men aren't teachers. Why would men teach? Women teach. Women with white hair and long skirts teach. They teach and they love and the coddle and they might even rock my babies if they need it. A few parents even approached me over the Summer. "Your two will be in first grade, right?" "You really don't want ________ . He's a nice guy, but he doesn't give extra work. Your kids need extra work." Then last week, I got a call from one of my best friends saying her daughter got ___. I wanted ___. I felt sad for me, glad for her. Suck it kids. Who cares what they want, right?

BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS ABOUT ME! ME! MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Going into our Open House last night, I was a wreck. I'd worked up in my mind that this would be the worst thing ever...them getting this male teacher, and I was fixated (as I always do because...well, the OCD). Now, mind you, Adam had certainly heard my bellyaching, but the kids hadn't. Or I assume they hadn't. Well, they probably had, but let's pretend they didn't (another thing I need to work on - keeping my opinions to a hushed voice between 10 and 11PM). And, as with most things, I think he just tuned me out. Rightfully so, and smart if I might add.

So when the lists went up, there it was.

And I don't know quite what happened, but I realized the kids were going to be thrilled. I texted Adam and he brought them on up to the school. Sure enough, when they saw the list, they were VERY excited. And I when I shook their new teacher's hand and saw his gentle smile, his sweet boys playing in the back of the room and his wife holding their new baby, I realized something. He's Adam.

I'd done the very thing parents have done to Adam....question a male teacher. I'd never done it because I know why Adam teaches. Adam teaches because he loves kids. He loves their energy and charisma and their creativity. He is driven by what they produce. He didn't become a teacher because "that's just what men do"....because it isn't. He did it to be a part of something greater than himself. He did it to have Summers off (true). He did it for the pay (snark). He also does it to take care of us. And here was Ben and Alya's new teacher with his family. I felt stupid for assuming anything at all...only partially forgiving myself because it is only natural to be a bit anxious about something new and different....right?

As Mr. ___________ talked about the year, I listened to his gentle and confident tone and realized that I'd been wrong. I'd been wrong to assume. I'd been wrong to be negative. I'd been wrong to project. Furthermore, shame on me for trying to pull his card before the game has even started. I bet, as with most any teacher, if I find my children need something, I can reach out to him and we can be a team to give them a great 1st grade experience.

So, while I doubt he would ever happen upon my writing, I apologize to him. I apologize to Adam and to Andy and Jamey and Jonathan and Mr. Mahan and Coach Jones and Mr. Highfield and all these great teachers along the way who have taught me, not just in school, but in life.

Assumption and projection are lethal. As a parent, I cannot pass that on to my kids. When we left our classroom last night, a little girl was crying. She is a little girl I know from last year. I knelt down to chat with her. And, while, this experience (a new school year) is absolutely overwhelming for children and parents alike, there is a coping element that the Kindergarten teachers really pressed last year. When my babies left the space under my wings last year and went to school, their teachers told me there'd be an adjustment period and that coping skills are critical. If you approach every new situation with an open and positive mind, coping may be merely perify. Ben and Alya never seemed to be coping last night. They just looked excited to be in the classroom they'd hoped for with the teacher they'd hoped for with friends from last year. Maybe they wanted to be with Mr. _______ because it'd be like being with their daddy.

So, with that, let's raise our juice boxes to a new year. I must trail off now to find "huggies" for water bottles. Adam scolded me last night..."they are not beer cozies," he said. I'm still learning. I am absolutely still learning.