Somehow, I have to live life.
I try to sleep every night and when it’s time to start a new day, I have a choice:
I can stay in bed all day
I can TRY to live.
Most mornings, I WISH I could just stay in bed, but soon I hear:
“What’s for breakfast?”
“I love you.”
“Millie is whining, (please) take her outside.”
or other sweet phrases like that.
When my kids don’t follow directions, fight in the morning, or spill their cereal everywhere, I have a choice:
I can get angry,
I can get sad and frustrated,
I can feel sorry for myself that I am here alone figuring EVERYTHING out alone,
I can help them with their problems, as I gently ask them what they could have done differently.
I don’t always make the right choice, but I keep trying.
As I walk through the school door less than 5 minutes before class begins, frazzled and breathless, already looking like a mess, I have a choice:
I can quickly pull it together, making myself ready for another exciting day of possibilities,
I can be overwhelmed wondering how to make it through.
As the day wears on, stuff happens, I get tired, and even more overwhelmed, I have a choice:
I can focus on the “I can’ts” “Impossibles” and “failures,” the leaky ceiling, and ….
I can focus on those small, beautiful moments where the kids (or a kid) shows he/she has learned SOMETHING today!
At night, when I troll social media, I have a choice:
I can focus on the people who obviously think teachers are underworked and overpaid, glorified baby-sitters, and an easy job with summers off
I can ignore the ignorance and focus on those who inspire, motivate, LOVE their fellow man.
Everyday, I have a choice:
I can dwell in sadness, unfairness, anger, and loss.
I can TRY my best to keep on living a grateful life, even when it takes EVERY ounce of energy I have.
I don’t always make the best choice, but everyday I TRY.
As long as I remind myself that mistakes and failures are evidence of a life lived for this day, I know that someday, I’m going to actually be okay.