Adulting is hard

Today I am very proud of myself because I adulted very well. This entire week has been filled with more adulting than I feel is my fair share. I've technically been an adult for almost a decade now, but there are still many instances where I'm looking for guidance from an older, wiser, adultier adult.

Insurance, medical, and monetary issues... why can't all of these things run smoothly? After my adult triumph with my insurance company this morning, I treated myself to a celebratory lunch of homemade chocolate-covered strawberries, 2 cans of Coke, and a $5 Little Caesar's pizza, of which I ate 5 out of the 8 slices. That's over half of a large pizza, my not-math-whizzy-people, (it's ok, I'm a physicist, math is my second cousin. ...Really, more like a big brother.) The comfort of food is real. And I have no regrets. Not even one slice!

Guess what? As a teacher, YOU are the only adult in the room. (I know, it's a horrifying thought, feel free to pause to lower your heart to an acceptable rate. Every day I am amazed someone let me be in charge of 25+ young teenagers...) 

I remember the first time there was a spider in my classroom. The first time a girl came to me frantic because her pants button had popped off so her pants wouldn't stay closed. Or the first time a kid came to me with half of his bloody fingernail hanging off. 

These are the times I had to woman up, keep my face calm, and handle the situation like a boss. I smashed that monster of an insect with my best heels, when on the inside I was more terrified than my students. I supplied that precious girl with a few safety pins and pinned her pants together myself, (at first I sent her to my gigantic walk-in closet on her own, but she was struggling so I was summoned.) And I clipped the rest of that bloody fingernail off like a mother who wasn't squeamish of her own child's blood, (kids, don't try that at home. Funny story... it was during my planning period and my student came to me, [because your babies will come to you for anything and everything.] So I walked him to the nurse. He had split his fingernail horizontally about halfway down his nail, hence the blood, and the nail obviously needed to be cut the rest of the way off because it was long and every time it bent it hurt and squirted more blood. [You're welcome for that visual.] And the nurse was too squeamish to do it!!!! So yours truly, who herself hates all things dirty/gross, [have I mentioned the Hand Paint Incident Of 1993? Scarred for life. But I digress!] made two surgical snips to relieve my poor physicist. Whew! Then lots of disinfectant...)

Suffice it to say as a teacher you wear many hats, but as the fearless leader of your adorable troop of minions, you must always wear the adult hat. You are responsible for your babies. For the minutes/hours they are in your care, their well being is in your hands. Good luck to us all!