It's a new year, fraught with potential. New teachers are like new crushes. Shiny and perfect. Maybe this year the kids will discover a passion for a new subject or rejeuvenate interest in an old one, try a new sport, read a book that completely captures their imagination, realize their potential, gain confidence, grow taller, find a direction for their life. The possibilities for new experiences are endless, shimmering in the air like sparkly dewdrops.
Even for me the possibilites are spread out like a banquet. With all this extra time I'll be able to clean out the garage, write an an additional book, paint the laundry room, lunch with friends, cruise into the city to go shopping, do some hands-on research, whip my garden into shape, finally get the house clean, write more blog posts, cook healthier more nutritious meals....
But the first day is the sweetest. The house is silent. I can do anything I want to for a few whole hours and no one will interrupt me. No one will need a ride, or money, or lunch, or to show me the funniest video EVER on YouTube. I have the whole house to myself. So I'm going to enjoy the solitude while it exists and then savor the chaos when the kids get home...ready to tell me about *their* first day of school.
Lisa
