The Median Sib

My weekend plans have changed somewhat. Instead of camping alone, I’m going camping tomorrow night with PawPaw. That means I can be a little more adventurous since I won’t be by myself. Instead of staying in a nearby state park, we’re going to leave in the morning and travel further away - might even go off the trail to camp. But maybe not. I like having a bathhouse nearby with the all-important flush toilet. I can enjoy all the other aspects of roughing it — but I want a bathroom that consists of more than a shovel and a bush or tree for privacy. I should also add that I like my air mattress, too — and it would be hard to backpack with all the little conveniences I have taken with me the last two weekends that I went camping - i.e. cooler, air mattress and pump, firewood, to name a few. We’ll see how it goes. I’ll take pictures and report back on Sunday.

Today’s QOTD:

“It is not best that we should all think alike; it is difference of opinion which makes horse races.” (Mark Twain)

Yesterday afternoon, I went through a two-hour refresher course on CPR. It included how to use an AED. Until yesterday, I had NO idea what an AED was. The letters stand for automatic external defibrillator. What an incredible machine! Although my last CPR refresher course was just a few years ago, the AED has changed the process. CPR is still done the same way, but if you have an AED, it makes it much easier. The machine literally tells you how to use it. Another part of yesterday’s training was to go over the Heimlich maneuver, and that made me think of Roger who died last week from choking on a sandwich. As I did the maneuver on the mannequin yesterday, I kept thinking of Roger’s death - what an absolute fluke that he was all alone at the time - and how it has changed Patti’s life. Patti called soon after I got home, and we talked for awhile. I feel so helpless that I can’t do anything to help her except listen when her grief gets too much to bear. I grilled myself a steak for dinner — and after watching the video in the class that showed a man choking on a steak, I ate more carefully than I ever have.

I’m a reading specialist, and I love my job. I truly do. I enjoy being at my school, and I enjoy working with children. I love that I’m able to read lots of children’s literature. I love that I no longer have to deal with the stress of grading papers, report cards, and all-day responsibility for a classroom of children. I love it when a kindergartener grabs my hand as we walk down the hall towards my classroom, and I love it when I can joke around with fifth graders as we discuss a book. I love being able to work with children on all grade levels. Most of all, I love that I sometimes make a profound difference in a child’s life.

Despite all that love, I live for the weekends. Every Friday afternoon, the possibilities of the weekend stretch out before me. I anticipate whatever I have planned. Then when Sunday evening gets here, I feel sad that the weekend is over and another work week is beginning.

Despite all that love, I rarely get to school before I have to, and each afternoon I leave as soon as I possibly can. I don’t spend a single minute at school beyond what is needed to do my job well.

Despite all that love, I agree with the quip that the three best reasons for being a teacher are June, July, and August. (Note: Although with new scheduling, August really isn’t part of the summer break anymore, and teachers aren’t paid for those months off work.)

Is it contradictory to love a job so much and still anticipate getting away from it?