This week has gone fantastically well, from just about every possible angle. I've gotten used to the fact that all of my failed birds have come home to roost (the total has gone up to 13, by the way...it now includes the kid who got kicked out halfway through last semester and the kid who I thought was on co-op). I'm having a great deal of fun with my students this year: I'm laughing, I'm joking, I'm smiling, I'm mocking, I'm yelling a bit, and I'm being as firm as I want to be.

Yesterday I told a kid to shut up - he was loudly complaining in my ear as another student tried to tell me something, so without breaking stride I turned my head toward the complainer, shot out, "yeah, shut up," and turned my attention back instantly to the original kid. The Complainer fell back with an amused, slightly horrified expression on his face. We all thought it was funny - including him.

I'm doing really well with my planning this year - I have yet to walk into a single class with only a vague idea of what to do - and I'm actually using my planning sheets to record my ideas and reflect on the classes as they conclude. I've been in to see the admin about a half dozen kids already, and I'm writing everything down on tracking sheets so the principal can't try to hand me my ass when one of my darling's parents pretends that they never knew their child was a problem. (This happened to me again and again last year; it takes time to understand the importance of tracking interventions and issues, and I wasn't terrifically good at it for months and months. Now, of course, I have a shiny new system.)

This is the thing about teachers: we're a special kind of geek. We make our own systems and get really excited about them. We're all proselytizers of some stripe or another - but our religion lives in forms and lists and routines. Sometimes paperclips.

My energy levels have been really high, and I'm deriving a surprising amount of euphoria from just being back and taking my lumps as it were. Dread sucked a lot of life out of the summer, and I'm pleased to have the life returned to me. Also, there's the fact that when you're pregnant, everything has to do with pregnancy. Usually you can trace every physical complaint to pregnancy; now I get to trace my obscene cheerfulness and serenity to pregnancy as well. Good old sedating pregnancy hormones - not only can I sleep at night, but I'm a calm blue ocean during the day. And, y'know, it doesn't hurt that other staff keep stopping me in the halls to tell me how utterly fabulous I look.

The only problem is that I have yet to leave Hogsboro before 5 p.m. any day this week. What with the commute, this means that I have just enough time to shovel food in my maw, do the minimum of planning and prep for the day, and then fall into bed as soon as I can manage it. Chores have become a memory (until today that is) and writing has receded to the distant horizon (much like my social life). I'm trying to remember to bring a disk with me to school so that I can write during my lunch hours until things settle down, but I've only managed this once so far. Still, I'd rather be happy and not writing because I have to go to bed than fantastically unhappy and not writing because it wasn't happening to me, therefore there was no point in writing about it.

I'm still having the occasional nightmare, by the way. Last night I was in SuperTeacher's class again before it segued to being lost in a winding corridor that ended in a whorehouse. (Hmm. Coincidence?)

My two classes of Grade 10 General students are not turning into the horror shows I'd anticipated. Sure, having The Kid Who Was Kicked Out of School For Being An Utter Ass isn't a lot of fun (buddy needs duct tape to keep his blessed mouth closed), but I'm dealing. They have yet to start resenting me for their own poor efforts, so things will remain sweet for awhile (I'm guessing). In the meantime, there's nothing to do but ride the pregnancy euphoria, fill out my tracking forms and not ask why I feel so damn good all the time.

My Grade 11 class is not quite as fun as last semester, but I was utterly infatuated with that class and there couldn't possibly be a better vibe in the world. What I like about teaching that level is that they are more-or-less bright, more-or-less focussed and more-or-less willing to do the work I give them. They're also comfortable enough with the school experience that I can have a lot of fun teaching them without the situation spiralling out of control. There's one kid in particular that's really making me laugh.

On Wednesday he started complaining that his seatmate was absent. "Miss, I can't work alone. Can [kid across the room] come & sit with me?"

"No. He has to stay there."

"But I can't work when I'm by myself."

"I'll bring you a doll," I responded, deadpan. "The doll will keep you company."

Other students who've had me before started hooting & hollering. "No! Not the doll!!" I put Chucky in the seat.

"Now I'm freaked out."

"I'll try to find a better doll for you. Maybe a teddy bear."

"I already have a teddy bear. [Kid across the room] is my teddy bear."

"Nevertheless."

On Thursday, when he found out that his seatmate dropped the course, he asked for the doll. I brought it out while he worked. Soon, the girls in the rows behind him had Chucky, and were playing with it. At the end of the class, one of the girls (who we'll call Kendra) asked if she could take it with her. For the rest of the day, every time I saw her in the halls, she had Chucky cradled in her arms. It made me laugh for hours.

Kendra is a bit of a sweetie herself. That day she'd walked into class and plunked a Special K bar on my desk with a non-committal. "This is for you, miss." It was possibly the sweetest thing I've seen in a year. I was immediately suspicious, but I didn't know her well enough to be sarcastic, so I smiled and thanked her instead. Hmm. Maybe she listened to me yesterday when I talked about getting hungry between periods because I'm pregnant.

I'm amazed.

3 years ago today: "Creatures can panic so much better when they don't have elbows."