There were TEARS!
So yesterday was the last day of second grade. Well, not for me....for them! They are moving on and I am teaching second grade again next year. This is a new concept for me because I have never taught the same grade twice (at least in a row)!
Let me preface this post with a little bit of personal insight. I am not a crier. I am an only child and I was treated like a girl by my mom and a boy by my dad. I don't know if my dad told me not to cry but crying was not used to manipulate things. You should be truly hurt before crying was necessary. Like when my first boyfriend broke my heart, my dad held me and let me cry it out. But if you scrapped your knee, you had better get up, dust off and move on. Plus I am just not a pretty crier. I get all blotchy and red. The tears don't pour they tend to pool, so I can't see well. My nose instantly starts running which is the most unattractive thing ever. Other people's tears don't affect me either, unless it is at a funeral. So, the bottom line is I don't cry very often.
Our day was going very well. We had 100% attendance! We had finished our memory books including photos glued in the wrong spots, but still super cute and kid created. Our plethora of parent volunteers had served a fantastic breakfast buffet and our party coordinator had a ton of fun games and crafts. A fantastic end of the year party was in full swing but time was pouring out of the second grade hour glass, quickly! So with 15 minutes left, I called them into their last share circle. Ahhh, finally, my class was back under my control. They were so cute in their wiggly, sugar induced states, trying so hard to wait their turn and remember everything they wanted to say. We made it around to me. I told them my favorite activity was the mustache pictures because I will always smile when I see that picture and having them in my class was my favorite part because they were really good together. I was in a state of bliss: the year is over, I survived, I was positive about their progress, confident that they would do well in third grade. It was a good place to be in!
Let me preface this post with a little bit of personal insight. I am not a crier. I am an only child and I was treated like a girl by my mom and a boy by my dad. I don't know if my dad told me not to cry but crying was not used to manipulate things. You should be truly hurt before crying was necessary. Like when my first boyfriend broke my heart, my dad held me and let me cry it out. But if you scrapped your knee, you had better get up, dust off and move on. Plus I am just not a pretty crier. I get all blotchy and red. The tears don't pour they tend to pool, so I can't see well. My nose instantly starts running which is the most unattractive thing ever. Other people's tears don't affect me either, unless it is at a funeral. So, the bottom line is I don't cry very often.
Our day was going very well. We had 100% attendance! We had finished our memory books including photos glued in the wrong spots, but still super cute and kid created. Our plethora of parent volunteers had served a fantastic breakfast buffet and our party coordinator had a ton of fun games and crafts. A fantastic end of the year party was in full swing but time was pouring out of the second grade hour glass, quickly! So with 15 minutes left, I called them into their last share circle. Ahhh, finally, my class was back under my control. They were so cute in their wiggly, sugar induced states, trying so hard to wait their turn and remember everything they wanted to say. We made it around to me. I told them my favorite activity was the mustache pictures because I will always smile when I see that picture and having them in my class was my favorite part because they were really good together. I was in a state of bliss: the year is over, I survived, I was positive about their progress, confident that they would do well in third grade. It was a good place to be in!
The sand finally ran out and it was time to pack up and navigate the hallways to carpool. I gave the instruction and all hell broke loose. Mosh, who has been in my class for two years, gave me a great big hug! Love Mosh! He turned around, walked over to his mom and broke down in tears. That was the end of me!! I started crying then I turned around and more kids were crying. I had moms crying and hugging me too! Everyone was leaking! I hate when people leak...especially when it is me!
There were tears! For almost a hour after they left. I did not realize how attached I had become to these little nerdlets (I am tearing up as I type). It is such a raw emotion and I am stunned at how deeply I am affected. I have taught for 6 years and I have never broke down like I did yesterday. NEVER! I guess I will chalk it up as a new experience and see what happens next year with this new batch of cookies that are coming into second grade. I am sure my teammates (who gave me so much grief about "the flood") will be taking bets on if I will cry or not next year!
There were tears! For almost a hour after they left. I did not realize how attached I had become to these little nerdlets (I am tearing up as I type). It is such a raw emotion and I am stunned at how deeply I am affected. I have taught for 6 years and I have never broke down like I did yesterday. NEVER! I guess I will chalk it up as a new experience and see what happens next year with this new batch of cookies that are coming into second grade. I am sure my teammates (who gave me so much grief about "the flood") will be taking bets on if I will cry or not next year!
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Last Day of School
