Not Ready

It's time----oh, it's time.  And I am not ready.

It's time for me to give up my state of natural existence:  stay up till dawn, sleep until 11 or 12, and, for the most part, do what I want.  It's time once again to get myself out of bed at 5:15 a.m. and out the door by 7, five days a week, with the day prepared and the gym bag packed.  There will be no more Popsicles for breakfast (at noon) and what-ever-turns-up for a second meal.  No, now it's back to starting the day with protein bars, protein shakes, fruit, or yogurt, with maybe a sausage biscuit thrown in there every couple of weeks.  More protein for lunch, some peanut butter crackers or a salad, or even the school lunch if there are strawberries....or cake.  Mmmm.  NO!  There must be less cake, and certainly less ice cream, which has acted as a substitute for more than one meal.  Yes, it's time to let that go again.

But I'm not ready.

It's time for shuffle-ball-change, do your best number with a smile on your face and some panache to sell the program.  No, there's no cynicism in that---it's just the art of the sale.  Time to sell some young people on a good diet of strong nouns and verbs, a mental exercise regimen of American literary development.  Time to charm them into developing character and good study habits and respect and individualism.  And while I'm at it, I've got to take time to transition these goals from criterion-referenced standards to the new Common Core, from memorization to synthesis---with kids who don't believe it needs to be written if it can't be said in 140 characters and a hashtag.

Whoa----I'm not, VERY NOT, ready.

It's time to ease up on the lifeline that my family is to me.  I have to be prepared for the fact that my parents won't be in the state much of the next 8 months.  This year, not seeing them from January until April was discombobulating, as though I had misplaced a talisman that gave me courage for the days, weakening my spirits. No doubt, I should be ready for more of the same this fall and winter.  Since I'll be gone from home 12-13 hours a day, there will no longer be time and chance for my sister and me to call each other whenever the urge hits us; I know that I'll lose many thoughts that I'll want to share with her, just for the joy of hearing her laugh or for commiseration on the indignity of the world.  It's much too close to losing my best friend all over again; Sheri has filled that role more than either of us probably ever thought she would, and I am so grateful.   And---oh, be strong---I must give up being able to spend as much time as I want with her baby Allie, my niece and god-daughter, just days short of a year old and changing every day.  It's time to remember that, almost always, I'm very happy alone in my quiet, calm household. 

Today, though, I'm not ready.

There are so many things it's time to put aside:  having unlimited time to run errands, being able to time my shopping and travel to miss traffic, seeing doctors (so many doctors) without missing any work, sitting at the computer and following link after link to political junkie posts on the internet, for HOURS that pass like minutes.  It goes without saying I'll give up reading time, but also time for movies, visits with friends, house-cleaning and -purging binges, and travel, if there were money.  And if I'm honest, I'll hate to give up being able to watch marathons of Law & Order Criminal Intent and SVU whenever I want.

I don't think I need to tell you---I'm not ready.

But I willingly went back to preparing my room three weeks ago.  I switched teacher desks, finding things I'd forgotten, notes and cards from my kids and my peers, drawings and doo-dads they'd leave me.  I carefully moved to a protected spot in my new desk the big pink candy Valentine heart that read "Marry me, " below which Michael Giesecke printed perfectly "...or else" before passing it to me, gosh, it must be 10 or 12 years ago.   I laughed and teared up over letters from Whitney Taylor, Ashlyn Million, and Courtney Carrino.  I bought supplies, more than I wanted, as always.  I updated our department curriculum.  New ideas began to worm themselves into my thoughts:  student blogs!  community book club!  Scholastic magazine!  (All right, nothing there is really new, just not something I've used before.)  I met with new teachers, started sending emails, read education blogs, whined about state budget cuts on Facebook, and stirred up enough dust in my classroom to bring on my usual August sinus infection.  Then today, as I helped the new senior English teacher set up student computers in her room, along came a crowd of my boys from last year, tumbling in the room, hollering my name and laughing and joking, and I fell right in, as though they were my kids....as indeed they are....and I started in with their jokes as though we had only passed a weekend.  They were there to get some attention and scope out their new English teacher.  For me, it was a little different sort of interaction, like winding a watch that has fallen a little behind but is still capable of keeping good time, the right time.

Ah, so there:  I think, perhaps......I'm ready.