Am I Nuts????

All year long I have complained. I have moaned, groaned and begged Jesus to let me stay in bed for five more minutes. I have gone in early, stayed late, and stood, agape, at the front of my classroom taking in the desks. All 28 of them.

I had almost 30 children in my 4th grade class this year. And we ain't talkin' the suburbs. We have stood toe-to-toe on issues like commas in a series, weekly multiplication tests, and who gets to use the new pencil sharpener.

We have gone round and round on who's turn it is to feed the fish (only 1 out of 4, that's 25%, made it through the year unscathed), who gets to be the energy saver and turn out the light, and whether or not they can be trusted to go run an errand for me by themselves.

I have graded placement tests, mountains of narrative and expository essays, middle of the year diagnostics, science projects, and end of the year exams.

I have waited for parents on parent- teacher conference night that never showed up.

I have prayed that some parents on parent-teacher conference night didn't show up.

I have given out Laffy Taffy for right answers, green "X's" for wrong ones, and crazy looks for strange ones (No, Bobby. Eight times six is not blue).

We have survived field trips, holiday parties, and charter busses (No, Bobby. We don't use the potty on the charter bus. Because I said so. Trust me.).

We learned about Ponce deLeon, adding and subtracting fractions with unlike denominators, and wondered if Desperaux would ever rescue the Princess Pea from the dungeon.

We dotted our "i's", crossed our "t's", played in refrigerator boxes at field day (Bobby, we don't try to implode the boxes. It is dangerous. Because I said so.), and sat through endless assemblies.

We complained when Ms. B. made us write forever...but hugged her tight when we all passed the FCAT Writes.

I have come home ragged, tired, and grouchy. I have said that I can not wait for Summer. 28 kids. I have said I felt like I ran a marathon.

So, why, when the last bus pulled out of the drive, and the last of Bobby's pencil shavings were swept, did I sit at my empty desk, look around at all the boxes packed, and treasures tucked away, and cry like a baby? Relief???? Or will I really miss the little buggers? I had decided on relief.

Fifteen minutes later, one of my students was knocking furiously at my door. I could see her smiling face through the little sliver of a window. I opened the door, and she shoved an envelope in my hand.

"Miss Beardsley!!! I ran all the way home to get your present! I forgot it!"

I opened it up, and inside was a handmade pink bracelet. She put it on my wrist and said, "Thank you, Miss B. I learned a lot this year. I will miss you."

She left and I decided, I am nuts. Because I will miss them, too.