Tag - From A Teachers Perspective

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Mama Lion – Hear Me Roar (and then possibly scratch someone’s eyes out)
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I’m Lucky To Be A Stay At Home Mom

Mama Lion – Hear Me Roar (and then possibly scratch someone’s eyes out)

Grade 2: A boy in my class told everyone my jacket was the colour of poop. He called me “Poop Coat” for the rest of the day. The other kids laughed hysterically. Naturally. I mean, they were eight and anything poop related was hilarious. I was obviously traumatized as I still remember this clearly, decades. Grade 6: My three-some of best girlfriends become a lonely party of one when the other two ditched me. I was devastated—stomach aches, didn’t want to go to school, cried my eyes out. Funny enough, one of those bitches and I patched things up the next school year and have been best friends ever since. I should really remind her of how lucky she is that I forgave her. Kids can be mean. Even the kindhearteds can get sucked into a teasing vortex. When I was teaching I was shocked by how quickly things could go bad. Recess could quickly turn into The Lord of the Flies, with sticks and everything. Until I blew my whistle and confiscated the sticks. Children can be like a pack of wild animals – the predators sniff out and circle the weak, ready to attack. When MY child is[…]

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I’m Lucky To Be A Stay At Home Mom

If you’d told me that one day I’d leave my job to be a stay at home mom, I never would have believed it. I went to school to be a teacher dammit. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. As if I’d give that up… Of course I love my kids and I want to be with them. But not like, all the time. I’d always planned to parent AND work—in perfect balance. Because that’s totally doable, right? I thoroughly enjoyed mat leaves with both my babies, but knowing I’d soon be back at work made it easier to enjoy every moment. The light at the end of the tunnel shone bright. Mid-way through my mat leave with my second child, daycare was set up, schedules were organized and I was ready to go back to the classroom I loved, to a job I was really good at, blissfully unaware that things were about to change. At 8 months, our daughter became very ill and was hospitalized. Avery was diagnosed with a rare (as in one-of-a-kind-where-in-the-hell-did-this-come-from-holy-shit) genetic condition. Doctors didn’t have much information so we had no idea what to expect. The geneticist painted a grim picture, tossing out gems like,[…]

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