This is why I don't want a normal job.

About 39 times a year, I question why I went into teaching. Everywhere you look there are articles about low teacher morale, the politics of education and statistics about why no one is going into teaching anymore.

Sadly, many of those articles do reflect the reality of classrooms today. It is a hard, hard job.

But teachers already know that.

As the end of the year approaches, we don't need another article about all the difficulties and obstacles teachers face today. Awareness is great, and all teachers wish the general public had a better understanding of what we do each day, but what we all need now is a pep talk.

We want to finish strong and remember all the good things about our job, in the midst of a time where many feel exhausted and under appreciated.

It's a crazy life. A life that one can only understand once in the trenches: tying the shoes and wiping the tears and teaching the words.

There are some days where on my way home, I am convinced that I am never stepping foot back into my classroom again. It can go on without me. You can find me working at an animal shelter under a heap of puppies. I will just be laying there, arms stretched as puppies and kittens bound across me and lick my face. That is what I will do.

But alas, I wake up the next morning, and I walk into my classroom, and I tie the shoes, and I wipe the tears, and I teach the words.

Today was a bit of a crazy afternoon and to be honest, a crazy week for me, but amid the chaos and tattles and peer arguments, my head started to fill with all of the reasons I could never do another job right now (except maybe the aforementioned job where all I do is lay on the ground and get tackled by baby animals).

I grabbed a sticky note and started jotting down some of the reasons that this is the best job there is. Even when it isn't.

With all of the stress that comes with teaching, I think it's easy to forget all the amazing things I experience as a teacher that would never be the status quo in a "normal job." For example...

1. Small chores being done for you

I can't remember the last time I filled my own water bottle or walked across my classroom to retrieve the coffee from my desk. When I ask the little students to do small chores for me, you would think I am bestowing upon them the grandest honor of all. Students take pride, and gloat shamelessly to their peers when they are selected to complete basic life tasks for their teacher.

Beaming, they wipe off my table, as though the most important job in the world. For some reason, I think this would be an issue in the corporate world if I expected all of those around me to wait on me hand and foot.

"Steve, can you run across the office and rinse out this cup and fill it with water for me?"

"Margaret, I spilled my tea. Could you grab me paper towels and jump up and down on the spill so it all absorbs?"

"Dan, can you come here and open my window halfway? I'm a little warm."

Something tells me I might struggle to develop healthy coworker relationships.

2. The compliments

My classroom is pretty much the only place I am considered "cool."

Small children love to lavish compliments. With my specific job, I have over 700 students in and out of my doors per week, so the compliments reach incredible heights as I get a new group of kids each hour.

A new group of kids to comment on my outfit, lipstick and shoes. Though I should probably take them with a grain of salt (many children still can't tell the difference between me and the building art teacher), I let them go directly to my head.

Why not? If you had tiny humans lavishing affirmations upon you all day, you might get a little pompous, too.

Compliments from children are also contagious. If Maddie compliments me, and Ginny hears it, Ginny will try to one-up the previous compliment with an even better compliment, until I am fending off compliments with quick "thanks, honey, but you need to go sit down."

Again, that same something tells me that I couldn't expect this kind of praise in a "normal" job.



Me, drawn as a queen on her throne. (Those are puffy sleeves.)



This was written to me by a kindergartener who was moving away at the end of the year.

3. But yet, they keep you humble

While this may seem conflicting after pointing out how children make you feel like a million bucks, it should be noted that young children are brutally honest. I was sick yesterday and was struggling through the morning. Students, concerned and confused asked me, "Did you forget to put makeup on today?" "Why does your face look like that?"

Just when your head is getting a little too big, they are there to humble you with their innocent and honest observations about your appearance.

A few months ago, upon returning from Florida, I was rockin' a deep, dark tan. I was flaunting my sun-kissed skin and basically using my classroom as a runway when a 10-year-old boy took one look at me and told me I looked like a "burnt hotdog."

Extra points for the creative simile.



Thanks?

4. The weirdness

If I had to manage adults for a living, I think the turnover rate at my company would be alarmingly high. I am very, very weird . I can't help it. I was born like this. I love that kids GET my weird.

All of the following are statements that would make perfect sense to almost all of the students that walk through my doors:

"If you aren't going to bounce like a baby kangaroo, you will sit on Broccoli Island."

"Ms. Wiley, can we dance to this song 'Spicy Nacho' style?"

"Guys, you know that while Cottage Cheese is still expected behavior, you make me happiest when I don't see any of it at all! Keep it at a nice Sharp Cheddar!"

(Yes, there is a cheese scale for attitude in my room.)

"During the Potato Song, you need to put your body in Chocolate River and stay out of Candy Land."

Need I say more? It sounds even weirder in Spanish.



Agreed, kid. Agreed.

5. The camaraderie with other teachers

While teaching is definitely about the kids, the relationships and bond I have with my colleagues is one of the highlights and most treasured parts of my job.

Teachers have a look they give each other in the hall when they pass and when they can't audibly say, "I am about to pull my hair out if I hear my name one more time..."

Work friendships are amazing. This morning, a colleague, and dear friend, brought me coffee. I frequent the classroom of another friend to break into her stash of 3-year-old gum balls when I need a rush of sugar. Her kindergarteners are unfazed by the sound of clanking gum balls because they are used to be coming in for a handful. I know where the chocolate drawer is in most of my teacher friends' rooms.

Those small interactions, encouragements and moments with my amazing teaching family keep you sane and keep your caloric intake high.

The most comforting thing of all is when you have another adult, like a beautiful, priceless paraprofessional (God bless you, wonderful people) in the room with you and something insane happens and you can look at each other and say, "Are you seeing this?? Is this our life right now?"



I have an open coffee tab with most teachers in my building.

6. Shake your head and laugh moments

I am sure most careers have funny, memorable moments. But oh, if the walls of Room 7 and Room 22 could talk. There are moments in my classroom where all I can do is laugh.

Hilarious, unbelievable moments.

I have a kiddo who is fiercely protective of me. I have had him for years, and we have a very special bond. If this student ever perceives someone isn't treating me well or I am in "danger," he comes to my rescue like a flash of lightning.

A few weeks ago, I was eating an apple and teaching. That combo has never typically worked out well for me, but that day I was confident I could do it.

I had choked a few times and cleared my throat, but finally after the third time I choked on a piece of apple, I exclaimed, "Uh! This apple is trying to kill me!"

Upon hearing this, the student immediately snatched the apple out of my hand and threw it in the trash can forcefully. There was NO place for an apple with bad intentions.

With every bone in his little body, he was protecting me from that apple. It was the most precious thing I have ever seen.

Once, first graders were having a discussion amongst themselves about why I wasn't married yet. Before I could chime in to encourage them to change the subject, a passionate 6-year-old yells, "Don't rush her guys! She's not ready yet!"

Those types of moments are ones that keep me coming back, day in and day out.

A more concise list... (I am getting wordy, and if you are a teacher reading this, you probably should be grading or lesson planning, so I will wrap up here.)

7. Pajama days

These are the best. There is nothing left to say. I am the head of student council and strategically placing these pajama days into the calendar is among the most powerful morale boosters.

8. Birthday treats

It's always some kid's birthday. Except for when I go on a strict diet (2x a week), birthday treats are the reason I make it until 3:45pm.



This was ONE day's worth of birthday treats. #summerbirthdays

9. Summer vacation and snow days

Duh.

10. When you watch students "get it" right before your eyes

This is a magical, inexplicable moment. When you have a breakthrough with a kid and try not to cry and then they laugh at you for being so emotional.

11. It's always an adventure

No day is the same. You can try your darnedest to ensure an airtight plan and seamless routines and transitions -- but EVERY day, something unplanned will happen. Every. Single. Day. You roll with it. You get really good at that.

Just when you think you aren't making a difference, a kid's flip flop breaks so you tape paper all the way around it so they can walk home with their shoe still on.



#changinglives



I don't want a "normal" job.

I want this crazy, exhausting, hilarious, stressful job.

I wasn't born to be normal, anyways.

Finish strong, teacher friends.

A version of this post originally appeared on Count Your Blessings, Not Your Chins.