I Hate Finals Week

I have severe writer's block. The thing with blogs is that it's really fun to write on one, but then I remember that my words will be put out into space and I get too nervous. My resolution this year is to record, and I'm hoping to make a book for my someday family. I tried to do a scrapbook and it sucked, and then I thought I would do an Instagram book and remembered my Instagram is embarrassing.

So here I am, having no idea what to talk about. C'est la vie; it must be done. I am in a weird zone of my blog right now. Do I get down to the nitty-gritty, or do I tell you guys a bunch of non-interesting details about my life? That is the question. I think I'll start with the non-interesting details, if we're going to be straight forward here.

I am still teaching, and my classes are getting into their finals. I have decided this is the worst time of year. Yesterday in a final I saw a 16 year old boy silently start to cry as test anxiety and panic started to take over. I had a very conflicting dialogue with myself. Do I help the boy? Well, it's a final and he needs to do this on his own... But would I want someone to help me? Yes, but again, Kelsey, it is a final and this needs to assess his understanding! I started to cry. Haha, so silly. I shed a single tear for this boy. That's so embarrassing to say. In the end I got up and helped the kid. I helped him plan his essay out and gave him some ideas. I feel a little guilty, because there was some definite nudging on my part, but to see relief wash over his face when he realized he could do it was totally worth it.

I realized two things in that instance:

1. There is nothing worse than finals week.

2. I really, genuinely love the kids I teach.

Somedays I come home from work, throw my bag down and my hands up and tell Scott, "I am so done with this. I am done with those crabby, lazy, no good, rotten teenagers! Why can't they work? Why are they so mean to each other? Why can't they get off their (blank) phones?!" I usually rant for a few more minutes, declare myself done with them for eternity, and then have a three hour nap. There have been times where I have gone to bed and thought, "If I didn't show up to work, or if I never went back, would they notice? Am I accomplishing anything in the slightest with these kids?" On those nights sleep does not come easily.

But then something like that test happens, only slightly different. A kid comes and asks for help, or someone that I usually see alone in the halls feels safe in my room, or they do/say something so absurdly hilarious that I laugh harder than I probably ever have before. I realize that I have the chance to be a constant in their life. I am always there for them, sitting at my desk, probably eating some kind of stress treat to get through the day (like the Mr. Big I have in my mouth as I'm typing this), and ready to help them. All this because I love them. I don't know how or when it happens, but it does.


Well, I didn't mean for this blog to turn heavy. My next one will be very light and fluffy, I promise!