Well it’s official. I have survived two weeks in my new teaching job. I was a bit nervous at first, going in at the halfway mark in the school year. The kids were  attached to their teacher, they had routines, they were going to be upset and questioning and hurt….. That is what I expected at least. What really happened was about five minutes of questions about where the old teacher was and who I was and we were off and running. It amazes me how resilient kids are. I wish I was that tough.

I put on a good act I think. I can roll with the punches and put things behind me and let bygones be bygones and all that…but every now and then I wanna just put my hands in the air and yell “uncle!” Life is hard. Anyone that says otherwise is either selling something or in a coma. I have a pretty good life, all things considered. I have wonderful, healthy, smart, happy (for the most part) kids that I adore. I have a house to call my own, the gospel to guide me, and a job I love. I have it better than a lot of people. Yet, truth be told, I am running scared. I’m scared of making mistakes, missing opportunities, failing my kids, and not being able to fit in my buckle jeans. I’m afraid of letting the wrong people in and shutting the right people out. Like most parents, I’m afraid I’ll wake up one day and find that all my kids have moved on and I am alone.

The walls didn’t come crashing down yesterday, but they did start to wobble. I tried retail therapy, but every shoe I picked up made me want to hurl. I tried cleaning and actually got a nice dent in my office/bedroom. I was still wobbling when my dear daughter suggested going to the gym. I thought about it, but our gym is full of beautiful people with perfect bodies and light. I wanted to wallow alone in the shadows. I did a driveby past my BFW and then ended up at a dark football field/track. It was perfect. I’m not a runner, but I dream of running. If I didn’t have to breathe, I could run forever I think. I ran til my lungs exploded, internally, and then I walked. I took Kelly Clarkson along for the journey, to help me “Breakaway” and it helped.

When I was done, I made my way back to the retail therapy part of town. Now I was ready. Purchases in hand, I went home and drowned the rest of my sorrows in a bag of ruffles and a season of How I Met Your Mother. Today is a bit better but now I feel guilty for the ruffles….or do I? I still have half a bag here on my desk….maybe….nah, I’m out of dip. I’ll have to be strong and push through and keep running…..cause I said so.

Photo credit: http://www.nsmbl.com