If you're keeping score, I made it until February 1st, 2012 without losing my voice. Last year that date was January 18th, so I've just been waiting around for it to show up. Me losing my voice sometime during the winter when I get a cold? That's inevitable. Stupid voice. Stupid needing to talk all day to do my job. Stupid stupid. I ate about a thousand Jolly Ranchers today. Jolly Ranchers = cough drops, right? Menthol is so gross.
I spent most of the day writing on a personal size whiteboard which has points for novelty, but it got kind of old being mute. Trying to make freshmen understand what I want them to do is hard enough when I can, you know, speak to them. Urrrghhh.
The best thing I've done all day--no joke--was slather moisturizer on my face when I got out of the bathtub. I feel like it's been so many days in a row of coughing and not being able to breathe properly out of my face that I've dehydrated myself. How can I be so dried out and yet so full of phlegm? You're welcome for that image, Internet. I was going to put a picture here of SpongeBob in that episode where he dries out, but once I Googled that I ended up staring at a picture of him in a banana hammock and I'm just not really willing to go there on the ol' blog tonight.
But you know? Even though I couldn't talk it was a pretty good teaching day. No, I didn't finish grading those damn essays, and no I didn't get a lot of other crap done that I needed to do, but on a kid level it was a goodie. I had two freshmen come in and ask for help and that actually makes me want to do cartwheels. I love working with freshmen in general because of the growth I see during the year--today I also just felt like I connected with a few more than yesterday. So I didn't cross anything off the to-do list. Hell, I didn't even make the to-do list today. But today felt like it counted a little.
Forget potential. I'd be happy if they could leave my class knowing how to sit still and write a paragraph. Or maybe just not talk when someone else is talking. It's all about setting attainable goals.
My own little blossoms of potential need to be tucked in. Henry actually just streaked (yes, the naked kind) through my bedroom to hang up his towel. That kid. He's like a tiny Will Ferrell. My mom (who is his first grade teacher, remember?) told me when I picked him up today that he answered a "why" question about his rabbit story like this:
Q: Why was the rabbit eating carrots?
A: The rabbit wanted to lose weight.